BEYOND OUR REACH

The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power; in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.” (37:23)

In Samuel Beckett’s play Waiting For Godot, two absurd little men in bowler hats sit on a bench killing time and endlessly discussing the awaited arrival of a certain mysterious personage named Godot. But Godot never shows up. In fact, nothing really happens in this play at all. Whatever does happen is insignificant; whatever is done is not worth doing; whatever is said is idiotic. There is (to borrow the title of another celebrated play by Jean-Paul Sartre) No Exit for these men from a plight that is as meaningless as it is torturous. They are trapped inside a box called life, in which there is just enough light to see that there is nothing to be seen.

If Job were to end at Chapter 37—if, let us say, the closing words were those of Elihu in 37:23, “The Almighty is beyond our reach”— then the effect of this book would be very much like that of Beckett’s absurdist play. Elihu’s final speech, as climactic and inspired as it may be, would fall flat without a sequel. But the story of Job does not end here. Rather, it ends with what theologians call a “thephany”— that is, with God Himself appearing out of the blue and taking center-stage to have the last word. Yes, strictly speaking Elihu is right that God is “beyond our reach”; but this same God reaches out to us, and this is the essence of theophany. “Godot” shows up after all.

American astronaut James Irwin has observed that “man walking on the moon was nothing, compared with Jesus walking on the earth.” Is such a God really “beyond our reach”? Or is He, to those who take hold of Him in faith, eminently reachable? As Moses taught the Israelites, “Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach” (Deut. 30:11). This is the God in whom Job has trusted all along, the God who ultimately reveals Himself as “Immanuel,” God with us.

The word theophany comes from two Greek words meaning “God” and “appear.” A theophany may thus be defined as an appearance, a revelation, a direct manifestation of God to man. It is the theophany that finally sets Job apart from the category of “wisdom literature.” For in the wisdom books there are no visions or supernatural events; there is no “thus says the Lord,” as there is constantly in the prophetic Scriptures. In the way of wisdom there is still divine revelation, of course, but it is a different mode of revelation. Wisdom is the Sermon on the Mount, not the Transfiguration.

Wisdom literature, then, tends not to traffic in the charismatic. But Job, in the final analysis, is a charismatic book. As much as the great majority of its theology may be said to be studiously non-charismatic, the ending is frankly and melodramatically supernatural. As much as we have had to focus relentlessly on the cross in order to understand Job’s predicament, in the end it is as if Job is allowed to come down from his cross. He is delivered and restored, and this begins to happen through the Lord Himself speaking to him in an audible locution lasting four chapters. The very idea of the author of Job presuming to pen words directly from the mouth of God—this must have set the traditional audience of wisdom literature on its ear. Yet even from the opening chapters of Job, in which Heaven was thrown wide open, has not this book presented itself as a supernatural thriller, a classic of spiritual warfare? Right from the beginning we should have said to ourselves, If the Lord would deign to talk plainly with Satan, who hates Him, then how much more plainly will He talk with a human being who loves Him!

This is exactly what Job has been pleading for all along: a personal audience with the Lord. It is also the thing that has most infuriated Job’s friends, this longing of his for some direct, charismatic, divine intervention in his situation. Job bets all of his marbles on a deus ex machina resolution, a bet which to his friends seems reckless and irresponsible. This same reaction, incidentally, was shared by the opponents of Jesus: the very idea that God Himself, in Person, should pay the world a visit! But just so does the book of Job end, with the Lord paying the world a spectacular visit and (as we learn from the Epilogue) bringing with Him a foretaste of the glories of His kingdom.


Mason, M. (2002). The Gospel According to Job: An Honest Look at Pain and Doubt from the Life of One Who Lost Everything. Crossway.