Fair is not fair.

It shouldn’t take more than a brief glance at the circumstances of life around us to know that fairness is an illusion we subscribe to, not a reality we can expect.  In a number of ways, both personal and through my friends and loved ones, I have been repeatedly reminded that life is, most certainly, not fair.  Unprepared, ill-equipped teenage mothers populate our high schools, but wonderful, responsible people with great resources and hearts full of love are somehow denied or delayed the joy of parenthood.  Wildly irresponsible drivers make it through red lights unscathed, time and again, but a young mother loses two of her three kids when her minivan is run over by an SVU while waiting to make a legal left-hand turn; somehow the other driver walks free.  Cancer, fire, unemployment, heartbreak…sometimes these challenges are brought on by our poor choices, but all too often they strike, seemingly, out of nowhere.  We shake our fists to the sky and lament how incredibly, indescribably unfair it is.

In these moments, when fairness shows its fakeness, when I glimpse behind the curtain and see how illusive justice really is, I take comfort in the story of Job.  It is a very Hebrew story, because it does not subscribe to the New Testament, strongly Christian theology that God must always be “good.”  God, in fact, gives Satan permission to decimate Job’s life.  Much is made over the fact the God doesn’t do the decimating; however, it is clear that God gives consent to Satan’s experiment.  And Job, while refusing to curse God, does do some pitiful whining.

The part of Job I turn to for comfort, however, is Chapter 38, when the Lord finally responds.

From out of a storm,
the Lord said to Job:
Why do you talk so much
when you know so little?
Now get ready to face me!

God then asks Job to account for all of creation, “Were you there when I set the earth on its foundation?  When I directed the oceans to stay within their shore?  Did you teach the lions to hunt or the birds to fly?  Are you the one keeping this whole thing going?”  God asserts that humanity, Job specifically, is in no position to judge God, to claim God is wrong, or unjust – or, as it were, unfair.

I usually prefer to claim scripture like Romans 8:28, We know that God works all things together for good for the ones who love God, for those who are called according to his purpose.  Such passages affirm God’s goodness and the hope that our difficulties and sorrows are actually God’s own handiwork.  God’s divine plan, carried out for our good.

But Job brings me comfort when the trials and hardships are inordinately unfair.  When there seems to be no possible good that could be worth the price I, or my loved ones, have to pay.  When the world just seems utterly unfair.  When I know that these hardships could not possibly be inflicted by a loving God.  I share, in these moments, Job’s lament; if I’ve done something wrong, Lord, just tell me what it is, so I can do better and deserve better. 

I also cling, in these moments, to God’s power and authority: God is still bigger than me.  Only God can judge what is really fair.  Only God can know how much I can take.  It is God’s prerogative to use me against Satan – to prove to Satan and humanity alike that God’s people are bigger than their hurt, that we can have a faith that runs deeper than our blessings.  Like Job, I can beg for a break, I can demand an explanation, but sometimes the lessons of this life that are sent through me, and through my friends and loved ones, aren’t even my lessons to learn.

Sometimes, like Job, you can refuse to curse God, you can conscientiously live for a higher purpose and by a higher code, and God will, inexplicably, still let Satan take stabs at you.  But unless you’ve seen the storehouses of heaven, laden with hail and snow, you’ve got to live with the reality that fairness by human standards is not fairness by God’s standards: and God’s standards always prevail.

I created both you and the hippopotamus. Job 40:15

 

Sometimes a Girl’s Gotta ’ Bludgeon Someone

But Jael, Heber's wife, picked up a tent peg and a hammer and went quietly to him while he lay fast asleep, exhausted. She drove the peg through his temple into the ground, and he died. Judges 4:21

I have such a love/hate relationship with the Old Testament. It can be very complicated theologically to marry the New Testament message of love and forgiveness with the Old Testament's slayings and smitings. Even though I accept that the Old Testament was written from a very different paradigm and understanding of how God can and will act in the world, it would be far more comfortable if God had gone with unconditional forgiveness from the start. But that is not the story we have. Instead we have a sometimes brutal depiction of war, pillaging, smiting, raping, and bloodletting. Despite that, I'm grateful for the record of God and human interaction. It reveals the depth, the breadth, and the complexity of our relationship with the divine. That relationship is not simple, so, despite the many gospel tracts you may have seen to the contrary, let's not pretend it is.

But that's another topic…

If we're going to have to deal with all that Old Testament bloodlust, I'm at least grateful for Judges 4 and 5. People want, with great frequency, to use scripture to oppress and silence women. I revel in a good counter-message.

First you have the judge, Deborah, who should have been home tending to children and making torches, instead going to battle with military leader Barak. He demands her presence because he's too chicken to use the bathroom without her telling him to.

Then when the enemy leader, Sisera, flees the battle, Heber's wife Jael finishes him with a tent peg. It's not enough for the scripture to say she bludgeoned him with a tent peg; it's a Quentin Tarantino special. She sneaks up to him while he's sleeping and hammers the peg through his temple so hard it pins his skull to the ground. This gal has spent her whole life having to submit to men. Her dad chose her husband, her husband has ownership privileges over her, her sons will tell her how to live out her old age, but when this powerful, oppressive, feared leader happens into her tent, she lulls him with false comfort and takes his life with the tools of a woman's trade (the women were responsible for putting up the tents).

Judges 4 and 5: Old Testament Girl-Power. Women do the judging, call the shots in battle, hear the voice of God, and drive tent pegs through villains' temples. Just try to tell Deborah and Jael that women shouldn't teach men or preach the Gospel.

The end of Deborah's song, however, is the most amazing part of the story, to me. Deborah acknowledges the mother of the bludgeoned leader, the anxiety and confusion she must have felt when Sisera did not return from battle. The real source of girl-power is compassion. While gals can definitely get it done, they also seem to comprehend the humanity of others more deeply. In my opinion, it's one of the most amazing things about "Girl-Power," and one way women most often reflect the nature of Christ.

"Through the window peered Sisera's mother;behind the lattice she cried out, 'Why is his chariot so long in coming? Why is the clatter of his chariots delayed?' Judges 5:28