Brother of Jackals, Companion of Ostriches (mid-week)

Brother of Jackals, Companion of Ostriches

Fr. Tony’s Midweek Message

September 7, 2016

In today’s Daily Office reading from the Book of Job, we read one of the saddest and most eloquent laments of all scripture, the weeping to God of a righteous person who has been afflicted with tragic loss: 

I cry to you and you do not answer me;

I stand, and you merely look at me.

You have turned cruel to me;

with the might of your hand you persecute me.

You lift me up on the wind, you make me ride on it,

and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.

I know that you will bring me to death,

and to the house appointed for all living.

Surely one does not turn against the needy,

when in disaster they cry for help.

Did I not weep for those whose day was hard?

Was not my soul grieved for the poor?

But when I looked for good, evil came;

and when I waited for light, darkness came.

My inward parts are in turmoil, and are never still;

days of affliction come to meet me.

I go about in sunless gloom;

I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.

I am a brother of jackals,

and a companion of ostriches.

My skin turns black and falls from me,

and my bones burn with heat.

My lyre is turned to mourning,

and my pipe to the voice of those who weep. (Job 30:20-30).

The Book of Job is all about keeping faith and hope in God even in the face of absolute loss and degradation.  It teaches that such suffering is a mystery that cannot be explained away or reconciled with the goodness and power of God, because God in God’s self is mystery.   And embracing such mystery, trusting in God even in the midst of tragedy, is the way to get through such hardship.   

I received very sad news this week:  the sudden death of a beloved 26-year-old member of my old congregation in Beijing (and little brother to its current pastor).  I also visited a parishioner here who had fallen and was severely injured.  Both sad events reminded me of the shortness and uncertainty of our lives.  Such sorrows give resonance to Job’s sentiment that we seem to be “brothers of jackals and companions of ostriches,” i.e., wretched animals living in meanness and squalor.    

But here’s the thing:  also this week, I witnessed small and not-so-small moments of grace and joy.  An accident that could have resulted in real problems was turned slightly and ended up not a problem at all.    An inadvertent change in routine showed Elena and me how to get a good night’s sleep for several nights running—the first in about a year and a half.   Unexpected assistance from an acquaintance resolved a hardship that I had set aside an afternoon to manage, giving me a unexpected bonus of several hours for a Church project for which I had been finding it hard to find time.

The art of managing our lives graciously amid hardship (and even suffering) lies in large part in the ability to seize upon the good things that are there—and there are always good things—and make the most of them.  Enjoy what you are able to do, and do not regret loss and what you are no longer able to do. 

Regret at loss in large part is resentment at losing control over parts of our life, and a desire for control is one of the elements of pride, one of the seven deadly sins.  This week’s collect puts the spirituality of enjoying the good bits of our lives while trying to graciously deal with the nasty bits this way:  “Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts; for, as you always resist the proud who confide in their own strength, so you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.”

Grace and Peace, 

Fr. Tony+ 

The Examination of Hiob (Satan pours out plagues upon Job), William Blake