Job

Blake's engraving of Job and his family kneeling in prayer beneath a great tree, flocks resting around them in the evening light.
Job and His Family, William Blake, from his Illustrations of the Book of Job (1826). Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Job’s book asks the Bible’s hardest question at book length: why do the righteous suffer? A blameless man in the land of Uz loses wealth, children, and health in a single narrative avalanche – while the reader, unlike Job, watches the heavenly courtroom where the accuser has alleged that all piety is paid piety: “Does Job fear God for no reason?” (Job 1:9). Thirty-seven chapters of anguished argument later, God answers Job out of the whirlwind with questions rather than explanations, and Job is satisfied by presence where he was denied a syllabus: “now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5).

The New Testament’s one direct mention distills the book into a pastoral sentence: “You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful” (James 5:11). James chooses his words against the grain of the book’s reputation – not Job’s patience (he was magnificently impatient) but his steadfastness: he argued, lamented, demanded audience, and never let go of God. And the verdict James draws from the whirlwind and the restoration is the one sufferers most need certified: the purpose of the Lord, however long hidden, is compassion.

Paul quotes the book too (“He catches the wise in their craftiness,” 1 Corinthians 3:19), and Job’s cry “I know that my Redeemer lives” (Job 19:25) has been read at Christian gravesides for two millennia – an Old Testament sufferer’s reach toward this study’s Easter.

In the New Testament