All right, we’re back on a beautiful Wednesday. I told you guys yesterday I was going to read the Book of Job—and I did. Let’s get right into it.
I only read three pages today, but I was dropping hella notes. I’m using The Message translation—it was gifted to me, and it’s what I had on hand. It’s a contemporary Bible, which basically means they simplified the language. But here’s the thing: the more you simplify, the more you interpret. And I don’t always agree with the interpretations.
For example, the intro says:
Job suffered. His name is synonymous with suffering. He asked, “Why me?” and he put questions to God. He refused to take silence or clichés for an answer. He refused to let God off the hook.
That line, “He refused to let God off the hook,” I highlighted it. That’s how I know this book is often misunderstood. It’s not about Job letting God off the hook. It’s about God not letting Job off the hook. That’s the real message.
Let’s get into Chapter 1.
Job is described as super wealthy; 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 teams of oxen, 500 donkeys, and a huge staff. He was the most influential man in the East.
Verses 4–5 talk about how his sons used to throw parties and invite their sisters. After the parties, Job would wake up early and offer burnt sacrifices just in case any of them had sinned inwardly. Job made a habit of this. That’s the kind of guy he was.
But think about it—he was trying to play God. He thought he could repent on behalf of his children. That’s not how it works. You can’t repent for others. He was trying to create a safety net for them, which sounds noble, but it’s not his place.
Then we get to the first test. Satan shows up when the angels report to God. He’s described as “the designated accuser.” God asks, “Have you seen Job? He’s honest, true, devoted to God, hates evil.”
Satan’s like, “Does Job really love you for nothing? You protect him. You bless everything he does. Of course, he’s loyal.”
So God says, “Go ahead. Do what you want with everything he has, just don’t hurt him.”
And here’s where it gets wild, Job loses everything. Oxen, donkeys, sheep, camels, servants, even his children. All of it. Messenger after messenger comes to tell him the bad news.
What does Job do? He gets up, tears his robe, shaves his head, and falls to the ground in worship:
Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I’ll return. God gives, God takes. Blessed be God’s name.
Not once did he sin or blame God. But here’s a question: is worship the same thing as repentance? Something to think about.
In Chapter 2,
Satan comes back. God again praises Job: “He still has a firm grip on his integrity.”
Satan says, “Skin for skin. A man will do anything to save his life. Hurt him, and he’ll curse you.”
God allows it: “Do what you want, just don’t kill him.”
Satan strikes Job with terrible sores. Job’s covered in ulcers and scabs. He uses a piece of pottery to scrape himself while sitting on a trash heap.
His wife says, “Still holding onto your integrity? Curse God and be done with it.”
Job replies, “Should we only take good days from God, and not the bad?” Still, he says nothing against God.
Then his three friends show up. They tear their clothes, sit with him in silence for seven days. Nobody says a word.
Then, in Chapter 3,
Job breaks the silence.
Obliterate the day I was born. Let it be a black hole. Erase it from the books. Why didn’t I die at birth?
He wishes he was never born. And that is Job’s first major sin. He doesn’t curse God directly, but he curses life itself—and life is God’s greatest gift. By rejecting that gift, he indirectly curses God.
Seven days. That’s all it took. After decades of prosperity, after being the richest man in the East, seven days of suffering made him wish he never existed.
That’s us. That’s all of us. God can give us the world, but the moment we suffer—even a fraction of what Jesus did—we curse Him.
Chapter 4: Eliphaz speaks.
You’ve helped so many people. You lifted up the broken. But now that you’re suffering, you’re falling apart. Shouldn’t your devout life give you confidence? Think—has a truly innocent person ever ended up destroyed?
Then he shares a vision:
How can mortals be more righteous than God? How can humans be purer than their Creator?
That’s the contradiction. Eliphaz says Job is innocent—and also says no one is more righteous than God. There’s no such thing as an innocent man. Only Jesus was perfect.
Calling Job innocent is a disservice. It feeds self-righteousness. Job believes he’s innocent—that’s his sin. His self-righteousness blinds him. He sees his suffering as cruel and unusual punishment.
Eliphaz urges him to call out to God. But Job doesn’t want to, because he thinks he doesn’t deserve this. He can’t see his own pride.
And that leads me to reflect on myself. I’m weak. I’m nothing. I can’t become entitled. I can’t say, “I deserve better.”
Job was way more righteous than me, and even he wasn’t innocent. Even he had pride.
That’s what God is trying to show Job. That’s why He allows all of this. It’s not just a test for Job, it’s also exposing Satan. God knows Satan’s ego. He brings up Job on purpose to provoke Satan into action.
God is puppeteering the whole thing. He lets Satan mess with Job so Job can reach humility and repentance. Satan thinks he’s in control, but he’s just a pawn.
And the biggest difference? Job will eventually repent. Satan never will.
So yeah, we’ll keep reading. But now I finally understand what God is trying to show Job from the very beginning. This isn’t just a story about suffering. It’s about pride. About humility. About surrender.
I love you all.