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Living in Awe
based on Job 38:1-7, 34-41
by Rev. Randy Quinn

Last summer, I saw a film clip from the award winning British film, Touching the Void.  I don’t know if any of you have seen it – or even heard of it.  The movie is based on the true story of Joe Simpson and Simon Yates.  They were climbing a difficult mountain peak in Peru in 1985 when disaster struck.

They were actually on their way down when Joe’s ice ax lost its grip and he fell.  The fall shattered his leg in several places.  Simon, his partner, worked to save his friend by lowering him on a line and then climbing down himself.

But then Joe fell again.  This time he fell over a ledge beyond Simon’s view or reach.  They were tied together, but neither one of them could do anything to help the other – Joe was dangling over an empty crevasse with a broken leg; Simon was clinging to the rope, using his own weight to keep Joe from falling.

Finally, comes what is arguably the most controversial scene in the movie, the most controversial part of the story:  Simon cuts the rope.  Out of desperation, he lets go and allows his friend and partner fall to his certain death, far beyond the possibility of help every finding him – even if he were to survive.

The movie then follows Simon as he works his way through his guilt, his grief, and his self-doubt while making the trek over the ice to their home camp.  From there he reports the tragic end of his friend’s life.

But the miracle of the story is that, unbeknownst to Simon, Joe survived the fall.  He ended up at the bottom of the snow pack and follows a river between the ice and the earth until he finds help.  He is often surrounded by the shear beauty of the ice caves, but he is oblivious to the wonder of it all.  He simply works his way out of the snow and ice and down the mountain.

In many ways, Job is in a similar position.  Job, too, was cut off from all that he knows is good.  His children have died (Job 1:18).  His property has been destroyed (Job 1:14-17).  And then his own wife blames him for the tragic circumstances of their lives (Job 2:9).

Even his friends all but abandon him to death as they come and plead with him to simply curse God and die rather than cling to the obnoxious belief that he is an innocent man.

While Joe had been left for dead, Job was wishing he was dead (Job 3:11).

But Job has also built a trust in God over the course of his life that allows him to continue living.  He seems to act and speak as if his friendship with God should somehow work to his advantage in his time of need.  He pleads for an audience, for a chance to explain his side of the story (Job 23:4-6).

For those who read the story from beginning to end, this is a clear and certain turning point.  For over thirty chapters we hear Job and his friends discuss why things are happening the way they are and making attempts to explain God’s purpose in the midst of their circumstances.  In the absence of truth they fabricate myths.

Finally, God speaks.  God interrupts the conversation.  But what God says isn’t exactly what they expected to hear.

Let me read some of what God said to Job.

Read Job 38:1-12, 19-24, 34-41; 39:26-27

I don’t really know where to stop.  I could go on.

In response, Job simply “shuts his mouth” (Job 40:4-5).  He is overwhelmed b God’s power and might.  There is absolutely nothing he can say.

One pastor tells the story of the day he took his four year old daughter to the emergency room[1].  She had fallen and needed several stitches in her bottom lip.  He says the nurses strapped her into a Velcro blanket they called a “papoose,” that wrapped around her so tightly she couldn’t move.

She was crying as they put a sterile shield around her mouth.

Her dad tried to hold her hand, but it was wrapped in the papoose.  All he could do was look at her fear-filled eyes.  She pleaded with him to make them stop, but all he could do was tell her it would be alright – even though he wasn’t so sure about what they were doing, either. 

“Hold on,” he said.  “Daddy’s right here.  It’ll be alright.”

Her pleas turned into accusations when she told him to make them stop.

Still he didn’t.  He allowed the emergency room crew to continue their work.

Amazingly, he reports, her response after the procedure was over was to jump into her daddy’s arms and hug him.  She didn’t accuse him of not loving her or not caring for her.  She didn’t run away from him.

Even though he had done nothing to help her in her time of need, she clung to him with complete trust – a trust that had been developed over the course of her young life.  She was not going to stop trusting him just because of her confusion during this one particular set of circumstances.

That is how Job eventually leaves this scene.  He is overwhelmed with awe and wonder.  He now knows what he had always known:  God is bigger than his problems.  God is able to see things he cannot see.  And God can be trusted – no matter what the circumstances of our lives.

As we watch the leaves turn colors, as we experience the days becoming shorter, as we listen to the autumn winds blow, we are invited to experience that same sense of awe and wonder about God.

Now, unlike Job, we can look at the heavens and can explain the difference between a star and a planet.  We know the earth is round and it revolves around the sun along with the other planets, including Pluto – even if the scientists no longer refer to Pluto as a full-fledged planet.  Scientists can tell us about black holes swirling around one another and stars burning out in a blaze of glory.

We also know how animals hibernate in the winter and how the monarch butterflies make their seasonal trek from Canada to Mexico and back again.  We can train the dolphin and the killer whale and we can watch as turtles lay their eggs and go back into the sea.

But even knowing what we know, there is still a sense of wonder that comes when we see the miracles of birth and the mystery of death.  I know I am filled with awe and wonder every time I hear about the incredibly fragile balance of nature that God intended.

Have you ever realized, for instance, what a miracle it is that ice floats?[2]  If water behaved like most other substances and the ice sunk, there would be no polar ice cap.  The sun could not melt the ice from rivers and lakes in the summer.  The mountain snow packs would melt from the top rather than the bottom and we would eventually lose our underground water supplies.

It really is true that the more we know the more questions we have to ask.  And every answer leads us closer to the One who created us and our world.

While the movie Touching the Void comes across as a heroic tale, in my mind it is actually a tragedy.  The tragic truth is that neither Joe nor Simon ever thinks to pray.  There is no prayer for help.  There are no prayers of thanksgiving.  We watch, but we are not led into a prayer of wonder and awe at the beauty of their settings.

Tragically, their life has no meaning outside of the fame and fortune they may gain from telling their story on the screen.  God is not absent, God is simply not acknowledged in their story.

Job may have had his fortunes restored, but his story has long term power because of his trust in God (Job 19:25).

And our lives have the potential to be more like Job’s than either Joe Simpson’s or Simon Yates’.  Our lives can have eternal meaning.  We can learn to trust the One who created us and we can ask for God’s guidance and direction throughout our lives.  As the songwriter has suggested it, we know whom we have believed and we are persuaded that he is able to keep that which we’ve committed unto him[3].

Thanks be to God.

Amen.


[1]  Story told by Tom Are, p. 297-298.

[2]  A self-avowed agnostic told me about this in the context of his coming to realize there must be a God.

[3] Words by Daniel Whittle, 1883 (Hymn # 714 in The United Methodist Hymnal).