Job 37:5–14 (NRSV)
God thunders wondrously with his voice; he does great things that we cannot comprehend. For to the snow he says, ‘Fall on the earth’; and the shower of rain, his heavy shower of rain, serves as a sign on everyone’s hand, so that all whom he has made may know it. Then the animals go into their lairs and remain in their dens. From its chamber comes the whirlwind, and cold from the scattering winds. By the breath of God ice is given, and the broad waters are frozen fast. He loads the thick cloud with moisture; the clouds scatter his lightning. They turn round and round by his guidance, to accomplish all that he commands them on the face of the habitable world. Whether for correction, or for his land, or for love, he causes it to happen. Hear this, O Job; stop and consider the wondrous works of God.
Many years ago, on a clear cold night, I saw a full rainbow around the moon—not just a bright haze, but a complete, seven-coloured moonbow. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime sight that I shall never forget.
For me, it was the sheer beauty that evoked my wonder; for Elihu, it’s the drama of thunder, lightning and blizzards. If these, he seems to imply, are beyond our comprehension, how can we expect to understand the course of our own lives?
Nowadays we understand a great deal about storms, snow and even, I presume, moonbows and how they arise. Does this make us less inclined to attribute them to the work of God? For many scientists who are also Christians, knowing how they ‘work’ only arouses more wonder. I learned yesterday from the radio that the earth’s core is as hot as the sun. Isn’t it amazing that we can walk on its crust?
In this passage, Elihu foreshadows the ‘answer’ that God will give to Job at the end of the book. Whatever we may understand about the world, God is the mystery at its heart; and if we want to live with God, we must learn to live with mystery.
Reflection
‘But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I perceived their end’ (Psalm 73:16–17).
Veronica Zundel
