Interpreting Job, Pt. 2: the Testimony of the Narrator
Job Rebuked by His Friends, by William Blake (1757–1827). from the Butts set. Public Domain.
(A bit long, so thank you ahead of time for hanging in there. . .)
Storytellers have many important decisions to make. One concerns narration style: which one, third-person limited or third-person omniscient? That is, does the narrator of the story have the close perspective of a single character or, instead, a more zoomed-out or detached perspective.
As a couple, we have enjoyed reading Jane Austen novels together over the past few years. We marvel at Austen’s mastery of characters and dialogue, and often pause along the way to discuss the story. We recently finished Emma, and it was interesting to observe the narrator’s insights into the thoughts and motivations of certain characters—e.g. Miss Emma Woodhouse and Mr. George Knightly—while also noting which insights were not given and which minds we could not see into. Mr. and Mrs. Elton are great examples of this narratorial “silence.” (1)
Such narrative decisions naturally affect how the story is told, as well as how it is read and perceived. They can affect which lessons and takeaways are more obvious, helped along by the narrator’s comments, and which are less the case. By creating all of these characters, Austen had the opportunity to demonstrate narrative omniscience with every character, but she chose not to. For the sake of the story she wanted to tell, she made intentional narrative choices along the way.
Consider now the biblical Book of Job. For starters, its presence among the canon of the inspired and inerrant Word of God means that, alongside other biblical books, it was divinely inspired by the Holy Spirit of God and also penned by a human author. As such, the Scriptures reflect both human personalities and tendencies and, ultimately, the divine and distinct purposes of God. (2)
Narration of history doesn’t require omniscience; just information and recall. The rub comes in with the Book of Job in that it contains not just knowledge of events and conversations between men here on earth, (3) but also intimate knowledge of the spiritual realm. There are few windows into the unseen like what we can read in biblical account of Job’s suffering. Readers encounter the narrator’s special knowledge of the intimate events, details, and words of Job 1:1-12 and 2:1-7. This includes an unusual awareness of a conversation between God and the adversary (the satan). In this way, the storyteller has both a limited (human) voice and an omniscient (God) voice.
Why does this matter?
Well, for starters we find it simply fascinating. Recall that third-person omniscient storytelling means that the narrator of the Book of Job is theoretically able to enter into the mind of anyone within the story. However, despite this being the case, it seems that readers are given access to none. It appears that little revelation is given concerning the mind and motivation of the characters involved.
What does this mean? Well, let’s find out.
Part one of this series of blog posts considered the ramifications of the Book of Job as ancient wisdom literature. That is, the book fits squarely within the genre of writing intended for the formation of wisdom. So we read and then reach conclusions with our own skills of wisdom and discernment. And such conclusions will then say or reveal something about us.
So after asking readers to “Remember the Genre,” we now turn to a second consideration.
2. REMEMBER THE TESTIMONY OF THE NARRATOR.
No doubt, readers have their work cut out for them. Yes, the narrator tells the story of Job with an unlimited knowledge, a kind of narrative “omniscience,” such that we are intimately aware of the details and the facts. Yet despite such knowledge, the narrator shares nothing with us about things like the mind and motives of the characters, the lessons to be gleaned, and so on.
The closest any of us can get into the mind of any single character is through mere inference—ie. readers must arrive at their own conclusions through an examination of the words and actions of those involved. To put it yet another way, readers are left to their own skills of discernment. We are given the facts, but no conclusions. And that is part of the lesson, part of the exercise. Such conclusions are to be labored over and discovered through the process(es) of wisdom.
By way of her narration, Jane Austen wrote Emma and other novels with so that readers would come to certain conclusions about various characters and events while, at the same time, leaving other things unsaid and up to her audience. The writer and narrator of the Book of Job does the same. He chose to withhold certain things from readers—things we may never know. (4) But not everything is a mystery, since he bears witness to and includes at least some details.
Character Witness. And what is that testimony? What is the witness of the narrator? What are the things we should know and be certain of? Which details are provided and ought to affect our reading of the story and our eventual conclusions? At long last, here are some of the highlights:
Job was “blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil” (1:1).
Job was very wealthy (1:2-4), and served his family like a priest (1:5).
Job was targeted for a great spiritual attack, which led to great ruin (1:6-19; 2:1-8).
Despite this, Job did not sin with his lips or blame God (1:22; 2:10).
And despite this, Job even managed to worship the Lord in his ruin (1:20).
Nevertheless, Job’s pain was “very great” (2:13).
Job was verbally attacked by his wife (2:9-10) and eventually his friends (4:1–25:6).
The Lord God visited and spoke to Job, which led to his repentance (38:1–42:6).
In the end, the Lord defended Job against his friends (42:7-8).
The Lord used the priestly intercession of Job to save the lives of his friends (42:8-10).
The Lord accepted (42:9), restored (42:10), and blessed Job (42:12).
These are among the things we must know, the things that will help us to read and discern.
A Godly Man. Surely, the general public in Job’s day must have been aware of him. His vast wealth makes it an almost certainty, not unlike how Solomon was well-known (2 Chronicles 9) for his wealth and wisdom, or how much of the world today is aware of the names of the three richest persons on earth: Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, and Jeff Bezos.
But in addition to this testimony of being incredibly wealthy, the narrator is also very clear in his testimony of Job’s character: “blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil” (1:1). The narrator’s omniscient testimony is that Job’s character was impeccable. One of the irrefutable facts, one of the few points of narrative witness, is that Job was above reproach. He was a genuine God-fearer who not only cared about his own relationship with God, but also that of others. His concern went so far as to intercede and make sacrifices for his family (in the beginning) and for his friends (in the end).
Surely, people must have known this about him, right?
Was this witness to his character as well-known as the (presumed) reputation of his great wealth? At least his closest friends must have known it, right? His wife sure did; and it was his impeccable character that she in the bitterness of grief spitefully used against him: “Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die!” (2:9) It is our opinion that there are several clues in the book that the quality of Job’s character was in fact public knowledge (e.g. Job 29:21–30:10).
This raises a key question: If that’s true, then why did everyone respond in the way that they did?
It’s maddening. That a man of such good character would suffer so terribly is bad enough. It raises so many questions about life, about justice, about God, and more. It cultivates a deeply uncomfortable mystery, an uncertainty that leaves us unsettled. But that Job would suffer on top of that through his loved ones—it adds insult to injury.
Readers of the Book of Job have the unique advantage of learning from the experiences of others. We are not mired in the events themselves, but exist outside of it. We get more of the full picture.
Information. Do you know who did not have this insight? Job. Neither did his wife and his three friends, nor the general public. How did they respond to the ruin? With wisdom or with folly? If foolishly, how? Why? Was it a lack of information? If so, what information would have helped? Would knowing what readers know have helped them to be wise? Are we wiser because we know more? If so, does it mean that information is the key to speaking and acting with wisdom? Or is it the opposite? Is true wisdom and discernment best displayed without all of the information?
The narrator is the most objective voice in the whole ordeal. Though he is not God, he knows the details of the story. And yet, the narrator never tells readers what to believe or think. His job is to report the facts, and he leaves readers with the task of interpretation. The underlying assumption is that readers will learn from what we read and act with wisdom. It is the reader’s job to mine for and discover the wisdom. And such wisdom would be applied (or not) if we should ever be put in the same situation—be it as sufferer or supporter.
So what does this mean for interpreting Job? What do you think?
What is the testimony of the narrator? And how has that testimony affected your reading of the events of Job’s life? Job’s contemporaries knew about his good character, and yet they still responded in their manner. How would we have responded? How would we have interpreted the ruin of his life? Would we have responded like his wife and friends did?
How do we respond to sufferers when we don’t have all of the information? How do we respond when their circumstances don’t seem to align with our understanding of their personal character? How do we respond when, for whatever reason, others’ suffering makes us uncomfortable? If we are confident in our conclusions, is it based on having all of the information? Or are we able to act wisely, even despite not having all of the information? What did Job’s wife and friends do?
How we answer these questions and more is a matter of wisdom and discernment.
The truth is that we will never have the omniscience of the Lord God. Like with the Book of Job, we will never have the full story. We are barely (if at all) able to tell our own stories with third-person omniscience. How much less is that the case with someone else’s story? This is one reason why God is ultimately the judge and we are not.
And yet, we must still live and speak and act in real time, making decisions of judgment along the way—including about ourselves and the people around us. This is inevitable.
And so the question is: will we do so with wisdom?
Stay tuned for further posts to come:
3. Remember the testimony of the Lord.
4. Remember the testimony of Scripture.
5. Remember the testimony of Job.
6. And more!
Sources:
(1) Funny to use the word “silence” in the same sentence as those two, huh?
(2) This view is fundamentally different from the Islamic view of dictation theory of inspiration of the Qur’an.
(3) We consider Job a real and historical figure.
(4) One of the matters about which readers are not given testimony is how much time passed for and between nearly all of the events. Among the very few time-oriented details provided: the initial catastrophe all happened on the same date (noted by “while he was still speaking” in 1:16, 17, 18); and Job’s friends initially sat with him “seven days and seven nights” (2:13). That’s it. Everything else is unknown. This begs the question: What would wisdom say about this?)