Thursday • 9/12/2024 •

Thursday of Proper 18

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 50; Acts 15:1-11; John 11:17-29

Job 41 (a departure from the Book of Common Prayer)

This morning’s Canticles are: following the OT reading, Canticle 8 (“The Song of Moses,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3-4, BCP, p. 94)

Lessons on humility from Behemoth and Leviathan. As we saw yesterday, Yahweh is reducing Job to the realization that he does not have the capacity to defeat the powerful and the proud: “Look on all who are proud, and bring them low; tread down the wicked where they stand. … Then I will also acknowledge to you that your own right hand can give you victory” (Job 40:11-12). As final proof of Job’s incapacity, Yahweh brings forth two untamable monsters, Behemoth and Leviathan. 

Behemoth (literally, “Beasts”) is a huge vegetarian beast that lives in the marshes (40:15,21). It is powerful (“its limbs like bars of iron” … “if the river is turbulent, it is not frightened”), if not especially dangerous. Who could tame it (“can one … pierce its nose with a snare”)? Who would want to tame it? A strong strand of scholars’ commentary on Job suggests that the prototype for Behemoth is the hippopotamus. If so, the poetic imagery expands its proportions: “It makes its tail stiff like a cedar … It is the first of the great acts of God” (Job 40:19). The modern reader—well, this one, at least—can almost not think of a huge dinosaur like the brontosaurus or the stegosaurus. The Behemoth is an ancient curiosity of God’s inventiveness—its “why” and “wherefore” are beyond Job’s comprehension. 

Leviathan, the main topic of Job 41, appears in other biblical passages as a terrifying and dangerous sea dragon (Psalm 104:26; Isaiah 27:1; Psalm 74:13-14—see also Job 3:8; 7:12). It’s curious to me that Peter Kreeft credits J. R. R. Tolkien with translating the Book of Job for the Jerusalem Bible, when Tolkien himself says that the only translation he managed for that project was Jonah (Peter Kreeft Three Philosophies of Life, p. 62; Humphrey Carpenter, The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, p. 378). Still, the description of Leviathan in Job looks so much like Tolkien’s dragon Smaug in The Hobbit that it’s not difficult for me to imagine Tolkien finding inspiration from this text in Job: 

Can you fill its skin with harpoons? …
No one is so fierce as to dare to stir it up. …
Who can penetrate its double coat of mail? …
Its back is made of shields in rows, shut up closely as with a seal. 
Its sneezes flash forth light …
From its mouth go flaming torches; sparks of fire leap out.
Out of its nostrils comes smoke, as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
Its breath kindles coals, and a flame comes out of its mouth.
Its heart is as hard as stone…
When it raises itself up the gods are afraid…
Though the sword reaches it, it does not avail,
nor does the spear, the dart, or the javelin….
The arrow cannot make it flee…
it laughs at the rattle of javelins. …
On earth it has no equal, a creature without fear.  

Many commentators find the prototype of Leviathan in the crocodile—but if so, the poetic imagery leaves that point of departure in the dust. Here is a monstrously terrifying creature. Tellingly, for the lesson in humility that Yahweh is impressing upon Job, the description concludes: “It surveys everything that is lofty; it is king over all that are proud” (Job 41:34). 

“Four days late…” There is only One who is powerful enough to conquer Leviathan, the deadly dragon. There is only One who is ancient enough to comprehend Behemoth, God’s oddity. That is the One who, in John’s Gospel, comes for Lazarus—the One who comes, as the gospel song by Karen Peck and New River says, “Four Days Late … and Right on Time.” (songwriters: Aaron and Roberta Wilburn):

The news came to Jesus: “Please, come fast,
Lazarus is sick and without Your help he will not last.”
Mary and Martha watched their brother die.
They waited for Jesus, He did not come,
And they wondered why.

The deathwatch was over, buried four days.
Somebody said, “He’ll soon be here, the Lord’s on His way.”
Martha ran to Him and then she cried,
“Lord, if you had been here, You could have healed him.
He’d still be alive…

“But You’re four days late and all hope is gone.
Lord, we don’t understand why You’ve waited so long.”
But His way is God’s way, not yours or mine.
And isn’t it great, when He’s four days late
He’s still on time.

Jesus said, “Martha, show me the grave.”
But she said, “Lord, You don’t understand,
He’s been there four days.”
The gravestone was rolled back, then Jesus cried,
“Lazarus come forth!” Then somebody said,
“He’s alive, he’s alive!”

You may be fighting a battle of fear.
You’ve cried to the Lord, “I need You now.”
But He has not appeared.
Friend don’t be discouraged,
‘Cause He’s still the same.

He’ll soon be here, He’ll roll back the stone,
And He’ll call out your name

When He’s four days late and all hope is gone,
Lord, we don’t understand why You’ve waited so long.
But His way is God’s way, not yours or mine.
And isn’t it great, when He’s four days late,
He’s still on time.
God, it’s great, when He’s four days late
He’s still on time …

“If you had been here…” An underappreciated, but wonderful, part of the story of the raising of Lazarus is contained in our reading today in John 11. As Jesus arrives in Bethany, Martha (sister of Lazarus) comes to meet him. Yes, this is the whining, complaining Martha of Luke’s gospel (“Jesus, can’t you get my sister Mary to help me? I’m doing all the work here all by myself.”) In our reading today, Martha says to Jesus, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died” (verse 21). At first glance, this looks like another complaint from the familiar fault-finding Martha we know from Luke. But there’s something different here. Martha goes on to express a belief that Jesus can bring Lazarus back to life. She is hesitant to dare to ask outright for that miracle. She cautiously hints instead: “But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” (v. 22)

“Yes, Lord, I believe…” When Jesus tells her Lazarus will rise again, she’s not exactly sure what he’s telling her. It’s as if she can’t presume to hope for Lazarus’s death to be reversed. She hedges: “I know he will rise again at the resurrection.” And that’s when Jesus drops another of the “I AM” statements we find in the book of John. This one’s a bombshell: “I am the resurrection.” Those who believe in him, though they will die, they will live, Jesus says. He asks Martha if she believes this. And what we get from Martha is the clearest, most emphatic recognition of Jesus by anyone in the entire book of John: “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” To grasp the import of this statement from Martha, we only have to compare it to Peter’s declaration in Matthew 16, where Peter says, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven” (Matthew 16:16-17). 

Martha recognizes Jesus as God even when a miracle seems far-fetched. Job never loses trust in God even when his own restoration seems unrealistic. What gifts these stories of faith are for us!  Do we trust that he will always be “on time” for us? I hope we all do.

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+