~~/*\~~ Cory ~~/*\~~
“Is this crazy?” Cory asked as he drove.
On the speakerphone, Dwight answered lightly. “Possibly. At the meetings we go to, they keep talking about ‘higher powers as we understand them’. That’s the ‘non-denominational’ talk they need so that we don’t divvy up AA Meetings by religion. Neither of us have ever bothered with being ‘specific’ before.”
“Not saying I will again, either. But I was invited.”
“Is that the only reason you’re going?”
“For now.” Cory admitted. “I guess I want to see if they’re genuine. See if they have… anything that I’d want to see in the mirror.” He let out a breath. “Sorry to call you with this. I couldn’t reach Bud. Last I heard he was going on a camping trip, so he’s probably out of range.”
“Flattered to be on the list at all.” Dwight drawled. “Good luck.”
~~/*\~~
Marco was at the front door waiting for him. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” He grinned when Cory got out of his car.
“You said two o’clock.” Cory objected, checking his watch. Inside the hall, music started to play. A moment later, Cory heard a chorus of people singing. Marco hurried him inside. With everyone standing and singing in full voice, the room seemed more crowded than it was. Everyone was dressed up in suits and ties.
The crowd was, on average, younger than he might have thought. Most of the religious types he’d seen were much older than he was. This crowd was a fair cross-section of demographics.
“And yet all of these, although they received a favorable witness because of their faith, did not obtain the fulfillment of the promise, because God had foreseen something better for us, so that they might not be made perfect apart from us.” The Speaker read from Hebrews 11, and then set his Bible down. “Paul was encouraged by all these examples, and in the modern day, we can add another thousand names, including Paul himself. But all these amazing people hadn't seen the fulfillment of these promises. Neither have we, yet. But we're close.” The Speaker smiled. “Imagine this chapter being read again, in Paradise; with all these people listed actually in attendance.”
The audience murmured warmly at the idea.
“We think that the prophets and heroes of the Bible were in some way special because they were recorded. But a lot of the Bible Characters we cite in our studies aren’t named. Like us, they were struggling with their problems. Like us, they had to make their way in a world that wasn’t making it any easier to live a clean, moral life. And like us, they held on. They just held on. To hope, to faith; and to the Promises of Jehovah. The same promises that we’re holding onto now.” The Speaker gestured around at his audience. “What about you? What would your verse in this chapter be? Imagine your name being here too. Do you think these people all thought we'd be telling their stories to millions of people, holding them up as an example of faith? A lot of them had troubles of their own, but this is not a list of condemnations. This is a long list of God’s friends. People He wants us to meet one day.”
~~/*\~~
After the sermon (‘public talk’, not ‘sermon’, Cory reminded himself), there was a song, and then a question and answer study. Cory noted that not everyone was repeating the words in the paragraph. People were giving their own insights, their own experiences in response.
“So, the question from the paragraph…” The man on stage asked. “Why should we not have an excessive interest in material wealth?”
A woman sitting a few rows behind Cory gave the first answer, giving a direct quotation from the paragraph. Cory was focusing on the scripture quoted in a later paragraph, displayed on Marco’s device. ‘They will not build for someone else to inhabit, nor will they plant for others to eat. For the days of my people will be like the days of a tree, and the work of their hands my chosen ones will enjoy to the full.’
Cory had seen images of Paradise, in his studies with Marco. They all followed a certain standard. People in good health and youth, a table full of food, a few exotic animals wandering close and friendly with the people…
He looked back at the quoted verse, suddenly understanding it. It’s talking about a promise that people won’t work for others to get rich. Not like I do today…
And Cory found that he had raised his hand.
Marco jumped, surprised by the motion, but the speaker had already seen him, gesturing with a smile. “Yes, our visiting brother, please?”
The microphone appeared in front of him promptly, and Cory spoke. “I work in an art gallery, and I know the history of some of the pieces there. The artists that history remembers? They hated having to work for a living wage. Their passion was in their creativity. In a world where they never had to fear old age, or hunger; what would they come up with? If you work hard all your life, your boss will never remember; but your family will.”
The last bit was a line that could be taken in different ways, but it seemed to resonate with some of the audience.
~~/*\~~
There was another song, (which Cory barely whispered along with), and a closing prayer, and then the audience broke up into small groups as people found each other. He had arrived at the very start of the meeting. Cory suddenly understood the problem. These people all spoke to each other as friends, so they’d probably arrived earlier.
A young married couple came over and introduced themselves to Cory, shaking his hand. “We wanted to tell you that we enjoyed your comment during the Watchtower.” The young woman said. “You were absolutely right: My dad had a high paying job, but the thing I remember most about it was that he was never home for dinner.”
Her husband looked over in surprise. “Oh. That shows what I know, I had the opposite thought.” He grinned. “My dad worked harder than anyone else I know, to support our family. His boss barely noticed.”
“Well… Love is loyalty.” Cory said reflexively, a little blindsided.
“Quite right.” The young couple agreed and shook his hand again. “It was good to have you here today.”
“Thank you.” Cory stammered out something appropriate. He wasn’t really sure how to react to a stranger giving him a compliment. It had simply never happened before. Never once, in his life.
As the two people moved on to other people they knew, Cory finally looked around. He’d been to other churches now and then, for weddings and funerals. When they ended, people usually headed out quickly, unless they knew someone. The people here all seemed to know each other.
And his eyes focused on one older woman at the back of the hall, leaning lightly on a walker. It was a sister who had given several answers, and there were any number of people gathered around her, sharing a conversation.
Marco followed his gaze. “Sister Nanette.” He said. “She got that walker last year. She’s been in full time service for longer than I’ve been alive. Did missionary work in a dozen different countries over the years.”
“Marco, how have you been?” An older man said, winding his way up to them on a pair of crutches.
“About like always.” Marco responded lightly and made introductions. “Cory, this is Rennie. He’s one of the Elders in our Cong. Rennie, this is Cory. He and I work together at the Gallery.”
With the ease of long experience, Rennie leaned on one of the crutches and held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Cory shook the hand automatically and looked the older man over as discreetly as possible. No casts, no obvious prosthetic. In fact, on a second glance, he wasn’t much older than he was, but he surely looked like it, given his physical condition. The Elder had been on stage not long before, leading the Congregation in prayer, and his expression suggested he was in some kind of pain…
“Marco, my wife wanted to talk to you about making arrangements for Sister Meredith. She needs a house sitter while she’s away next month. I recall you did it for her last time?” Rennie said quietly to Marco.
Marco caught the hint. “I’ll go and talk to her quickly, while they’re both here. If you can keep Cory company for a bit?”
Rennie promised he would, and Marco excused himself, leaving Cory alone with an Elder he’d never met. “Should I be worried?” He asked lightly.
“Heh.” Rennie smiled. “As you can probably tell, association is a big part of the meetings. It’s tough for newcomers sometimes. We all try to make them feel welcome, but we all have friends we want to talk to.” He gestured at the chairs. “Mind taking pity on me?”
“Oh, of course.” Marco said immediately, both of them moving to sit down. The look on Rennie’s face suggested that it was a relief to sit. “You handle those crutches like a veteran.”
Rennie nodded. “Been using them for twelve years. My legs might move, but they don’t do a good job of holding me up.” He shook that off. “How about you? How do you feel now?”
“Back pain, but nothing that won’t heal.”
Rennie actually laughed. “I meant, after your first meeting?”
“Oh. Right.” Cory blushed. “Well, it was very interesting. And I admit, more than half my doubts about a loving God were taken care of by the study with Marco. A few more by the Sermo-uh, Public Talk. I’ve read more scriptures in an hour with you guys than I ever have in my life, so I’m not about to say the Bible disagrees with you.”
“Which is no small thing.” Rennie nodded. “I was in another religion for most of my life. The Pastor there only ever seemed to talk about money or politics.”
“Yeah, it’s just…” Cory winced. “My problem with your beliefs is the problem I have with all religions in general: If there is a God, then He’s a Giant pretending He cares about ants. Not even ants. Compared to the universe, we’re not even on the scale. The idea that the universe exists just for the enjoyment of the specks on this planet, most of whom are lousy people…” He spread his hands wide. “I don’t believe God cares about us that much, because I don’t believe He could even notice us.”
“If there is a God, then why would He take the time to create something insignificant to Him?”
“Same reason I played with finger paints as a kid and didn’t keep any of them for long. Because I could, and then I didn’t care anymore. Some people believe there’s an intelligent designer to the universe, but everything that came after that was just… left to its own devices, including evolution.” He shrugged. “In the scale of the Cosmos, we aren’t noticeable. And if God noticed us, He wouldn’t be impressed, surely?”
Rennie took the question seriously. “Twelve years ago, I was jogging, as I did every morning, and then suddenly my left leg went numb. I face-planted in the middle of the street until someone noticed me and called an ambulance. A few days later, the tests were done, and they told me my jogging days were over.” He patted his legs. “Threw me for a loop, because I was quite active in those days.
Cory winced again. “I don’t mean to disparage any comfort or help you’ve gotten from your faith-”
“Well that’s the thing. I had no faith left in anything.” Rennie admitted. “I asked my Pastor, he said ‘God only gives people things that are good for them, so there must be an important lesson to learn from it’.” He scoffed. “Aaand, that was the last time I went to the old family church.” He took Cory’s hand, making sure he had the other man’s complete attention. “There was a time when I felt the same way. My life had changed for the worse in an instant, for no apparent reason. I knew life wasn’t fair, but having it be… inexplicable? That was killing my faith in anything at all.”
“But you’re here.” Cory observed.
Rennie nodded. “I remember it vividly. I said the same things you did. If God even notices us, He surely doesn’t approve, or care. So one day, I asked Him.”
“Asked Him?” Cory repeated, feeling a knife edge of concern. “Did He… speak to you in response?”
Rennie laughed. “Trying to see if I ‘hear voices’?” He guessed. “No, not the way you mean.” He patted his leg. “I had just realized I’d have to get a different job, because I couldn’t do the job I had on crutches. And that was just the icing on the week I’d been having, y’know.”
“Believe me, I do.” Cory admitted.
“So I prayed.” Rennie said. “I prayed: ‘God, if You care about me, say something. I’ll listen, if You would just say something’.” He smiled. “At that moment, literally, that moment?” He knocked on the arm of the chair. “The Witnesses knocked on my door. And you know what their opening line was? ‘Have you ever wondered if God really cares about you personally?’”
Cory blurted out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“I know.” Rennie nodded. “The odds of it were so extreme I didn’t believe it was a coincidence. Once I was sure they hadn’t been listening at the door, waiting for me, I asked them to come in, and here I am.”
“We’ve all heard at least a dozen stories like that.” Marco said, rejoining them. “Enough that we’re not even surprised by them. But I always love hearing them.”
“Me too.” Rennie agreed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to Sister Nanette about something.”
Rennie excused himself, and they nodded goodbyes. Cory found he was watching Rennie move on, still on his crutches. “My physio says if I’m not careful with my back, that could be my future.” He glanced at Marco. “Isn’t that a problem? Making him an Elder?”
Marco let out a breath. “I keep tellin’ you, my friend: God doesn’t judge you based on what you can’t do. You didn’t get that from the talk? Everyone who has ever served Jehovah has done so through some kind of hardship. Everyone saw some promises fulfilled, but had to wait for others.”
“And some of those promises are thousands of years old now. How long do you plan to wait?” Cory countered. “What about the ‘men of old’? Their promises haven’t been fulfilled yet, and they went to dust centuries ago.”
“I’ll grant that.” Marco nodded. “But if it had come thousands of years ago, you and I wouldn’t be here. We haven’t gotten that far in your own studies yet, so for now you’ll have to take my word for it: All the evidence is saying it could start any minute now.” He gestured around to the older ones in the Hall. “Some of us have been waiting our whole lives; but none of us felt like it was wasted time.” He gestured back and forth at the people around them. “Ask them, if you want. They’ll tell you the same thing I would: What’s coming is just… worth waiting for.”
“...it’s all just… words.” Cory said awkwardly.
“You’re an art major.” Marco offered. “What would you use to describe Paradise and eternal life to us? For that matter, if you were God, laying down promises of what would come for all Your servants in the future… What would you offer to help them ‘keep their eyes on the prize’?” His head tilted. “For that matter, you heard passages describing Paradise today. What do you think about what you heard?”
Cory struggled with putting it into words. “All your hopes for the future, and all the promises you’re clinging to? They all revolve around obedience first and foremost.”
“You'd rather disobey God?”
“I'd rather the center of my life be something that I'm capable of. Even good at.” Cory countered. “Besides, if we only get God’s love when we obey Him wholeheartedly, doesn't that make Him a dictator, or at the very least, a bad father?”
Marco took the question seriously. “Dictators don't offer eternal life in Paradise. That's an act of love. Dictators don’t put their own loved ones through personal suffering to help the people who still condemn him. That’s an act of sacrifice. Someone who puts you ahead of their profit and convenience? Someone who doesn’t break their own rules, or act hypocritically when it’s convenient? That would be a good leader, wouldn’t it?”
Or at least a good father… Cory thought. I hate that my own father is such a hypocrite about morals and ethics…
Marco had pulled out his device and looked up a verse. “If only you would pay attention to my commandments! Then your peace would become just like a river, and your righteousness like the waves of the sea.” Marco looked up. “Not a threat. Not even an order. A plea. God knows that His way is the best way to live. He made us, after all. He knows what we need. But He respects His own rules. Like choice.”
Cory hesitated to answer, and was searching for something to say. Something that would free him from the obligation of agreeing with Marco, but still accept that he was telling the truth, sincerely. Something that would-
His phone rang.
Yes! Sweet escape! There is a God, and he makes phones! Cory thought, grateful for the diversion. The screen said it was Bud calling. “I should take this.”
Marco nodded, not pushing further. Cory headed off a few feet and answered. It wasn’t Bud’s voice on the other end. It was his wife. Cory listened for a few minutes, and slumped down hard.
Marco saw his reaction and hurried over. He was saying something, asking what was wrong, but Cory could barely hear his voice.
Sometime during the meeting, Bud had been found dead in his house. He’d overdosed.
~~/*\~~ Mahala ~~/*\~~
“Mahala! Mahala!”
Mahala woke with a start at the sound of her husband’s cries. Feeling the pit of doom in her stomach again, she rose and went outside to see what had befallen her husband now.
“Look!” Job beamed at her, standing upright for the first time in weeks. His skin was clear. No boils. No sores. There weren’t blemishes on his skin, or scars where they had been the day before. Even the long scratches left by the pottery had healed away.
Mahala stared, not reacting; her brain frozen. She’d been so used to things getting worse with each passing day, the idea of it getting better never occurred to her; and she rejected it reflexively. “Wh…. how?”
Job smiled at her broadly. “How do you think?”
~~/*\~~
In the City of Uz, a small Boy in beggar robes tuned a scuffed and beaten string instrument. The City was still crowded with Angelic beings. Everyone was watching the events surrounding Job.
The fury at what was being said by some of the humans had grown. Some of the spirit beings had been tempted to act without God’s permission. The Boy could relate to the feeling, but had restrained himself. He’d been tempted about such things in the days before the Flood, and had been proven right to trust in Jah.
The Rebels were all there. They hadn’t been this busy in one spot since Babel. Every human in the City had at least one voice pouring poison in their ear, unseen but omnipresent.
I wonder if this was the goal all along. The Boy thought. No matter what Job does, this place is becoming a simmering cauldron of half-truths, resentments and outright lies about Jehovah…
And then, all at once, things changed.
There was a gentle breeze that grew stronger and stronger. It lasted for less than a second. Most of the humans didn’t notice it. But beyond their senses, the effect was far more obvious. All at once, every Rebel Spirit was picked up and pushed out of town, as if a great storm wind had plucked them up and hurled them away, without disturbing so much as the dust on the ground beside them.
Within an instant, all the demons were banished from the City of Uz.
The Boy stood, with a smile on his face. “Jehovah God, who has total authority over the demons, even now, thank you for that.” He prayed. “What should I do now?”
“Now we make it right.” The answer came. “You have remained steadfast in the face of questions, my friend. Others have done less. Would you like to take part in blessing Job for his own integrity?”
The Boy smiled grandly. “I would enjoy that very much.”
~~/*\~~
Job washed thoroughly. Mahala burned the thin, light clothing he’d been in for a week. Neither of them thought it was an actual illness, let alone something catching through the clothes, but Job knew he’d never wear that outfit again.
“Job! Mahala!” Another voice called, and they both turned to see Arit running up the path to the house. “I was in town, and couriers came; one after another.”
“Couriers?” Job repeated. “They came to you?”
“Actually, they came looking for you, my lord.” Arit answered as he reached them, trying to catch his breath. “Apparently, I wasn’t as good at hiding my ongoing connection to you as I thought. Half the town pointed them towards Vede’s stall in the market.”
“How did the potter take that?” Mahala remarked as Arit handed over the sealed scrolls.
“Oddly enough, he was okay with it.” Arit said, still a little stunned. “Some of the things he’d been saying the last few weeks, it took me completely by surprise. He praised me for my loyalty to my previous employer, and remarked that I was to be commended for helping people in their time of trial.”
“Amen!” Job shouted suddenly, reading the messages. “It’s my family. My brothers, sisters… They’re coming. They’re all coming. They’re apologizing for the delay, and pledging to bring financial aid until we can restore what we’ve lost. They’re on their way!
“My lord!” Called another voice. The three of them turned to see a man running from town. As he approached, they recognized him. It was Koreoh. “I bring word from Pah-os, son of Khaldon. He pledges horses from his finest stock, to restore the animals you have lost. He will begin with a gift of strong plowhorses. Apparently, there are people buying out much of what’s available in the City, and they all seek wagons and animals to bring the goods here, as a gift to you.”
Having gotten his breath back from running ahead, Arit nodded. “The same thing happened with Vede. The couriers asked me what the state of your goods and provisions are now, and bought out half the stall on the spot. They pledged to deliver it all tonight, before the rest of the extended family arrives. They didn’t want to cause any embarrassment. After all, there’s a rather large gathering coming, and if you don’t have plates, or food for them-”
“Here comes the first load of food.” Koreoh broke in. A row of donkeys was coming down the road, led by the couriers, all men and beasts loaded down with baskets.
“What. Is. Happening?” Mahala asked in disbelief. “This is like the reverse of when it all went bad. One thing after another comes running up to our door.”
Job was laughing joyfully, holding up the messages. “Open up the kitchen, my love. We have company coming, and need to stock the larder.”
~~/*\~~
“Have I thanked you for your help, Arit?” Mahala asked as the two of them worked in the kitchen.
“No need, my lady.” Arit was moving quickly, setting up the food and drink that Job’s guests had brought in. “Vede gave his blessing when Job’s siblings arrived to visit him. I can’t explain it, but the stigma that has made the City reject all those who wanted to help? Somehow it doesn’t extend to his family.”
“Maybe because he isn’t sick anymore?” Mahala wondered, before she shook it off. “No matter. All help is gratefully received.”
They both carried platters of bread, fruit, and meat out to the gathering. Arit laid the platter down, and-
Hoofbeats.
As always, his body reacted before his brain processed, and he froze, feeling the adrenaline pouring into him, feeling his eyes widen in alarm…
“Look!” Mahala said. Her tone wasn’t scared or horrified, and it made Arit turn his head.
What he saw made him hurry. New guests were arriving, herding a small collection of sheep. Behind them, further up the road, he could see more couriers coming, leading at least a dozen camels. He would have to tell them where to take the animals for grazing.
He placed the platter of food between two of their guests, and went to meet the animal tenders. Behind him, in what used to be grazing fields, some tents were being erected by the rest of the caravan. Job’s relatives had brought their own attendants, which meant his family were planning to stay for the full mourning period. They’d already bought out half the supplies and livestock in town. Couriers would have to be sent to call for more, before the City ran out.
“What changed?” Arit marveled. “I tried to buy from people in town, and nobody would help. Is it just because these are all new faces?”
Mahala’s head tilted. “Honestly? I don’t care.” A wild giggle broke past her lips. “It’s a good thing we’ve got so many visitors. I’m running out of room in the pantry for all these gifts.”
~~/*\~~
In an odd way, Arit was feeling the loss of his brother and his friends a lot more today than he had before. A month ago, he would be one of dozens of attendants, helping Mahala and Parisha to prepare a feast for their guests. Their visitors had brought caravans of their own, and had their own staff, but they’d never been in this house before, so Mahala and Arit were directing people half the time, tending to dishes and taking them out to the table the other half.
It was an emotional time. Arit got the conversation in bits and pieces as he brought food and drink out to them all. As he served wine, and poured for Job’s brothers, he heard them sharing stories about the times they had visited in the past, and their own memories of the children.
The second time Arit left the house, he heard Job pouring out the whole story, tears rolling down his face as he shared the way his supposed friends had condemned him in turn. His extended family were sneering in disgust.
The third time, with large platters of food balanced across his arms, Arit heard Job telling a childhood story about Barat, with a smile on his face and tears streaming down his cheeks. Even the happy stories were bittersweet now. He went back into the kitchen and told Mahala to go out and share in the memories.
By the fourth time, everyone was fed, and getting down to business in earnest. The prayers had been offered, and now tributes were being offered. Mahala was taking notes on a scroll, and Arit discreetly looked over her shoulder. Job’s siblings were bringing gifts of money, livestock, perfumes, oils, medicines… All things that would be of use in rebuilding his family finances.
While Arit was collecting the empty platters for a return to the kitchen, he heard a few more of the ‘pledges’ being offered. It was like they were trying to outdo each other.
Hoofbeats.
Arit froze again, feeling the adrenaline pouring into him, feeling his eyes widen in alarm…
But it was the steady canter of more people coming up the road to Job’s home. More attendants, carrying loads on horseback. No charge, no rush, no attack. The hoofbeats were signs of incoming generosity now.
Get yourself together, you idiot! Arit raged at himself. This is a good day. Do you even recognize one anymore?
~~/*\~~
After the ‘tributes’ were offered, the party settled. It was the biggest feast Job had eaten in weeks. The same was true for Mahala and Arit. Job had ordered that they stop attending to their guests and join the meal themselves.
As Job continued his discussions with his family, Mahala noticed Arit wiping sweat away from his face, and went over to talk to him. “You are… ill?”
“Maybe I am.” Arit confessed. “My… My last memory of my brother is him laying facedown on top of me, dead. He covered my body with his own as the horsemen charged us down with lances and swords… Since then, I haven’t been able to hear hoofbeats approach without…” He put a hand over his mouth. “...ooh.”
Mahala nodded, understanding. “When word came that a storm had swept up out of nowhere, and brought the house down on my children, I prayed that the wind would come back and take me too. Job had nightmares about the wind every night. Twice a night, sometimes.” She sniffed. “He would turn to me for comfort, and I wished the windstorm in his nightmares was real, come to take us too.” She wiped her face. “What an awful thing for me to wish for.”
Arit nodded. “I know that not every horse brings death. But it’s just… branded into my heart now. It might be for the rest of my life.”
Mahala glanced around to be sure they had privacy and leaned close, lowering her voice. “Job felt the same way about the wind. Every time it blew enough to notice, he froze, looking up to the sky with fear.”
Arit blinked. “I… I hadn’t noticed.”
She nodded seriously. “But then… Jehovah spoke to him out of the windstorm, apparently. A ‘gentle’ voice, according to my husband.” She almost laughed. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure I believed him, about hearing the voice of God, but… Now, when the wind blows, he looks up eagerly. He’s always waiting to see if he’ll hear that ‘gentle voice’ again.”
Arit nodded slowly. “Maybe I’ll get lucky. If I hear enough hoofbeats today, all with good news, maybe it’ll come to mean something different for me too.”
Mahala squeezed his arm. “I hope so.” She said with affection.
As if to answer them, they both heard hoofbeats. Mahala’s hand tightened slightly on his arm. He pushed the instinct down, appreciating her reassurance as he looked out the window. A trio of horses were coming down the road towards the house. Familiar horses.
Mahala saw them too. “Okay. Maybe not ‘good news’ every time.” She said with a drawl.
But this time, with the aid and comfort of so many, Arit actually grinned. “Better go see what they want. If they try to tell Job’s family that they shouldn’t be here helping him, they’ll find a rougher reception than they got last time.”
~~/*\~~
Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar climbed down from their mounts, and traded a hard look. They saw all the new arrivals, and had probably been passed by a caravan coming with gifts for Job.
Arit went out to meet them. “Honored sirs.” He bowed, greeting the town elders.
“We need to speak to him, Arit.” Eliphaz said seriously.
“I’m afraid that will be difficult today.” Arit said politely. “As you can see, we are inundated with guests, offering financial and emotional aid to the honored Job. In truth, we’re running out of room for all the well-wishers and their gifts.” He let that linger. “My master is accepting all visitors. It’s quite a challenge to keep up with them all, even now that he has been restored to full health.”
Bildad and Zophar traded a knowing look. Eliphaz leaned forward. “This is important, Arit. You’re well within your rights to condemn us for the way we acted last time. But since then, something has happened, and we need to speak to Job.”
The intensity of his voice made Arit pause. It was true, he’d been taking advantage of the changed circumstances to make the three most respected people in town wait. He didn’t like the way they’d left things last time any more than Mahala did.
But now that he looked at them properly, he wondered what had happened since they’d left. The three of them were shaken. Their eyes were haunted, their posture was terrified. They’d come on horseback this time, rather than walk to Job, like the last time. They weren’t that far from the City. The only real reason to come on horseback was to carry a load, or move in a hurry. And they didn’t seem to have much in the way of goods with them. Not compared to everyone else who was coming to the house today.
“...please, Arit.” Eliphaz said quietly. He sounded desperate, which was something Arit had never heard from the three of them before. “He’ll want to hear this.”
Despite himself, Arit still wanted to say no. These men were vastly superior to him in social rank, and they were nearly begging him for help. After feeling so helpless for so long, Arit enjoyed it more than he should. He took a moment to smack that feeling down. Job wouldn’t gloat. He reminded himself. Aloud, he lowered his voice. “I’ll see what I can do.”
~~/*\~~
Mahala sidled up to her husband. “What did I miss?”
“My eldest sister has taken a tour of our land since she arrived.” Job said in a low voice. “She’s dispatched her people back to the City to buy lumber and tools to rebuild the pens, the fences, the sheds… We’ve got livestock again, all of a sudden, and nowhere to shelter them. A few of our guests are organizing their people to start building already.”
“It’s wonderful.” Mahala admitted. “I was so shattered that things could go bad so fast, and it never occurred to me that things could be made better so quickly.”
“I want to make an offering to Jehovah. To thank Him.” Job admitted. “I haven’t done that in far too long, given the circumstances. But using animals brought by the family seems almost impolite, given the distance they’ve traveled and the likely cost they’ve covered-”
“If you’d like an alternative…” Mahala lowered her voice. “...we have three more visitors.”
“Have them join the gathering.” Job said immediately, when he saw his wife’s face. “Oh. Them.”
She nodded. “They look… if I didn’t know them better, I’d say ‘humbled’.”
Job smirked at his wife’s tone of voice. “Humbled?”
“Stricken, really.” Mahala nodded. “And since Arit and I couldn’t agree who would get to strike them first, I wonder who got the honor.”
“Mahala!” Job scoffed.
“Let me send them away.” Mahala asked hopefully. “We’re finally getting our lives back on track. I don’t know what they want this time, but…”
Job looked into her eyes, and sighed. “It’s not like last time.” He said. “I promise. It won’t be like last time.”
~~/*\~~
“Where did you find these?” Arit asked, as yet another crowd of livestock was brought up the path. Seven bulls, and seven rams. “It’s an expensive gift. Especially today. How far did you have to go to find someone still willing to sell this many high-quality animals?”
“We didn’t buy them. These are our best.” Bildad said quietly.
Arit raised an eyebrow. “If you’re trying to buy your way back into his good graces, I’m afraid that time has passed.” Just then, he saw Mahala waving a signal. “I’m told that you’re invited up to the house. Shall I take these animals somewhere?”
“Yes, please. But keep track of them. We were told to bring them for a specific purpose.”
~~/*\~~
The three Elders waited until Job had a break in the conversation. It took long enough that Arit could square their livestock away and rejoin the gathering. Seeing the sudden shift in Mahala’s expression as they approached, Job’s extended family followed her gaze. Not all of them had been to Uz before. Even fewer of them knew the three Elders enough to recognize them on sight. But there was a lull in the conversation as Job gave the three his full attention.
Eliphaz, apparently the spokesman for the group, stepped forward towards Job… and lowered himself deliberately to his knees, groveling outright. Bildad and Zophar followed his lead.
“You were right, and we were wrong.” Eliphaz said simply.
(Author’s Note: I’m messing with the timeline here. I mentioned before that a plain reading of Job suggests that Jehovah might have spoken to Job, and to the three false comforters, while they were all still there together after their long speeches. In fact, Job 42:10 says: “After Job had prayed for his companions, Jehovah removed Job’s tribulation and restored his prosperity.”
So, moving the timing of their apology, and the animal sacrifices they offered was a choice on my part. The reason for this is because I wanted to show the complete reversal of Job’s fortunes. Since the calamities came, one after another, all on the same day, I wanted the blessings to do the same. Miraculously healing Job’s physical health would have been instant. Having all his family and friends arrive would have taken a little longer, given the distances likely involved. Restoring his wealth and children would have taken longer still, given the numbers.)
The sudden show of submission set off a murmur from those watching. Arit and Mahala traded a stunned look. What had happened?
“As we made our way home after leaving you…” Eliphaz said softly. “We were… stopped. Someone spoke to us.” He lowered his voice. “God spoke to us.”
Job swiftly understood. “Ah. What did He say?”
Zophar looked up at him sharply. “That’s it? You just… accept that?”
“Jehovah spoke to me too.” Job said plainly. “What did He say to you?”
“He was… angry.” Eliphaz said with a shudder. “In my life, I have wondered at the possibility of hearing the voice of Jehovah. I finally did, and He only spoke to condemn me as a liar.”
“Not a liar.” Bildad offered. “He said that we did not speak the truth to you, Job. Not about Him and His ways. But I swear, it wasn’t a deception, it was-”
“It was still wrong.” Eliphaz cut him off, not wanting to go into it any further. “Job, we were commanded by God to bring you seven bulls and seven rams, for you to offer as a sacrifice on our behalf, praying for our forgiveness.”.
Job rose to his feet, took in the three of them with hands spread. “Come with me, brothers. Let’s do this together.”
~~/*\~~
They went to the rubble of Barat’s house. It had been left since the funeral. There had been no workers to clear it away. As they approached, the whole company went with them, but they stayed back from Job and the three Elders, unsure of what was happening now.
Job reached the debris first, and began looking through it, until he found a large, heavy stone. With a vitality that belied what he’d been going through for weeks, he rolled it away from the wreckage, to an open spot on cool green grass. He then went back, looking for more. His friends understood as well, and joined him, digging through the soot-stained pieces, looking for stones that would work.
There were murmurs about Arit, as those watching asked if they should help. Arit waved them down. Job’s confrontation with three people who had been his friends had driven a wedge between them. One that would influence the leadership of the City of Uz for years to come, if it wasn’t mended. The four of them sat at the City Gates, dispensing wisdom and judgment upon the locals. A rift there would have serious ramifications for the future.
Eliphaz knows that. Arit thought. He surely thought Job would be dead by now. With him restored to full health and financial security, in spite of what his three ‘friends’ said of him, their judgment has been proven meaningless in full view of everyone…
Which is why Arit made sure the four men worked alone. Job would have been justified in demanding they be exiled from Uz entirely. Instead, he was treating them as equals in a task given to him by God.
While everyone watched, the four divided friends brought together an altar from the wreckage of what Job had lost, so that he could offer sacrifices of gratitude for what he had been given.
(Author’s Note: This act of constructing the Altar together is my own invention. The three were directed to offer a large sacrifice for their own sins, and Job would pray for their forgiveness.
Job’s relationship with the three false comforters was not discussed beyond that point in Job 42:10. But if these four men were the most influential and respected in their community, then a continuing feud between them would have been problematic. Also, we know from Job 4:12-16 that at least one of these men was under a demonic influence when he made his speech regarding Job’s character. With every other attack on Job reversed, I assumed the three elders might be the same. They had made their position clear, and Jehovah had told them directly that they were wrong. Job was a righteous man. It stands to reason he would settle a grudge.)
Mahala had excused herself as soon as she realized what Job was building. As the Altar was finished, she returned, leading the first ram. It was a fine one. Healthy, and with plenty of meat and fat on its frame. It would make a generous sacrifice on an altar.
Beaming, Job immediately started leading those assembled in prayers of thanks and praise. Dressed properly again, unbowed by poor health, it was almost like old times.
Except that his siblings and guests were attending, and not his children.
Mahala felt a spike. Reassuring Arit had put it into sharp focus. It would never be exactly like old times. Whatever bizarre occurrence had inflicted this pain on the family, the specter of it would cast a shadow for the rest of their lives.
~~/*\~~
Hours later, after everyone had retired for the night, Mahala stood in the front doorway to their house, gazing up at the moon, thinking deep, troubling thoughts.
Job came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “What are you thinking?”
“It’s getting better, I know.” Mahala sighed hard. “They came, and we can rebuild now with what was offered. In town, they’ve even decided we aren’t cursed, after those three idiots admitted they were wrong, to the point of groveling.” She sighed. “Though I admit, I had wondered if even a direct word from God Himself would have managed to teach them humility.”
Job chuckled. “Things are finally starting to improve, to be sure. But you seem… unwilling. I noticed that when we were offering the sacrifice and prayers to Jehovah, you withdrew.”
“I had duties, with guests in the house.” She defended herself.
“But that’s not why.”
Mahala kept staring up at the moon, before she sniffed, starting to cry. “What if it happens again?”
Job hugged her. After so long being unable to stand the irritation of his own clothing against his boils, it was a blessing to feel the warmth of the woman he loved. “My dearest one, I don’t know what happened, or why. But I know that we came through it once; and it is over now.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Mahala whispered. “Whatever the reason for… all of it may be, even if only random chance… If it really is over now, and Jehovah is blessing us again, then restoring wealth, land, flocks, livestock is easy. That’s happening already. The only other thing we’ve lost that He can give to us is…”
Job swiftly understood. “More children.”
Mahala broke down weeping. “It’s been one thing after another since the day they died. Even if it never happens again, we’ve lost…” She sniffed. “All our babies are gone, husband.” She pulled his hand closer, kissing it and resting his palm over her heartbeat. “If Jehovah thinks even He can just replace our babies with new ones and all is better again-”
Job shushed her gently, pulling her into a hug. “My love, nothing will ever replace them. One thing we’ve proven now is that Jehovah knows people as individuals. We aren’t ants, impossible to tell apart. We aren’t replaceable toys to Him. Neither were our children. And if we are blessed with more children after this, then it will be a blessing.”
“Will it?” Mahala hissed to herself, and Job could hear all the pain and grief and fear combined filling those two words.
“It will.” Job said with certainty. “Mahala, the one thing I am certain of now, is that through all of this, Jehovah has never forgotten me. He won’t forget the children we’ve lost either. One way or another, someday we will see them again.”
“What if it happens again?” Mahala grated. “The only thing worse than going through this would be to go through it twice.”
“I know.” Job admitted, and with just two words, she could hear all the suffering and fears of his own time of suffering, still simmering away somewhere inside. “But we’ve survived every hard moment of our lives until now. Things we never thought we’d make it through? We’re still here. If it happens again, then we will endure again. What can life throw at us that is worse than what we’ve already overcome?” He hugged her tightly. “Endurance brings its own strength, and its own rewards, my love. If it happens again, God will still be with us, and we’ll still be with each other.”
She sniffed again, squeezing her eyes shut. “I gave up. When it got really bad, I didn’t even consider the possibility of it getting better anymore.” She covered her face with one hand. “What an awful thing for me to do. What an awful way for a wife to treat her husband at his darkest hour. I don’t want to inflict that on another child.”
Job just held on tighter. “But you’re still here with me.” He reminded her. “I understand your fear very well, my love. Maybe more than anyone else in the world. They were my babies too. But you are a wonderful mother. Not ‘was’. ‘Are’. You’re a wonderful, loving mother, who has no children. This house was full of love and light and laughter while they were there. If we vow never to feel that kind of love for anything, ever again? Then the dark days have beaten us. Compared to that, does it matter if we have our money back? We can’t be so afraid of losing something that we won’t dare feel a moment’s love for it.”
She understood what he was saying. Losing their children had been the start of their downfall into misery. Having children again would start to heal the pain, even if it didn’t bring back what was lost. It would fill their house with life again; and that would bring joy.
“I promise, whatever happens, we’ll get through the hard times.” Job crooned in her ear. “And the good times will only be truly good if we’re together.”
She looked up and pulled her husband into a kiss. “I’ve missed you, husband. I’m tired of lying awake, all alone in our bed.”
“I’ve missed you too.” He kissed her back emotionally, and they went to their room.
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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