The word survival means living through or living over. Those who have survived a particular horror such as the Shoah or particular wilderness experiences such as the Babylonian exile must face the daunting reality of how does one live through such an event, precisely because one must live through such moments if one is to survive. The idea of survival intimates a mandate to live again, but this kind of living through can never be as it once was, for the landscape has been transformed. Fretheim correctly observes, “We need to be confronted more directly and more often with our known and our unknown participation in the causes of suffering, and reflections on such questions can be helpful to that end.”19 Fretheim points to a two-fold imperative here. It might be a deep seated reluctance to face oneself and thereby one is unable to ever face the reality of one’s complicity. As suggested elsewhere in this study, I would argue that facing oneself in whatever way, and for whatever reason, has to be one of the most difficult and challenging things that one does, and yet it is only in so doing that the possibility exists for a beginning to clarity as to why certain things transpire. So the “why” must be asked not to diminish faith, but to face the possibility that the answer lies within our human purview. Moreover, the “why” question must not be silenced by others either by casting misplaced fear, or the suggestion that asking such questions reflect a lack of faith. We might very well learn from Job an essential lesson in terms of how humans might relate to God, and not only on the occasion of one’s personal pain and suffering, but particularly in times when one is not personally involved. What is of significance here is the fact that one who takes the relationship with God seriously, must in fact have the level of confidence to ask personal and existential questions. In matters of gravity, one should have to face the devastating statement, “you should have asked,” or “you should have said something.” Job asked, and after the “God Speeches” in which Job seems to have been taken to task by God, God then extols the sustained righteousness of Job. One of the qualities that we might determine from the “God Speeches” is not that Job should not have asked questions, persistently so, as is sometimes concluded by some interpreters, but that the questions of Job might not have been encompassing and universal enough. It is not that Job should not be concerned about himself, but God invites Job to think of all of creation, and even the inherent realm of divine responsibility. In this regard, Job invites all interpreters to pose significant and large questions to God not only about oneself or for that matter one’s community or nation, but for all people wherever there might be evidence of injustice, and particularly circumstances where God might be held accountable. It is precisely God’s encounter with Job at the end of the book that suggests something of a divine mandate to question in a wide-ranging way. Among the many pertinent questions that we are compelled to ask, perhaps the most challenging is that of God bringing suffering on the innocent for reasons that only God knows; reasons that are never told to the suffering, and to those who wonder and lament. Thus, it is that the prophetic voice today must not focus narrowly but be attentive and accountable to the entire world where there is injustice and oppression in whatever way.
With life comes suffering in a variety of ways, not simply the possibility, but the certainty of suffering. And regardless if this is the result of human finitude, limitations or fault still human acknowledgment leaves us wondering, perhaps about what we perceive as the unfairness of it all. Or as Hall sees suffering, “Life depends in some mysterious way on the struggle to be . . . If nothing were inaccessible, nothing out of reach, and there were no unfulfilled dreams or wishes, there would also be no wonder, no surprise, and no gratitude.”20 Hall’s point regarding the struggle to be is well taken, and it certainly underlines humankind’s ongoing journey, one that is not unencumbered, but is filled with hills and blind corners. However, it still seems somewhat more of a justification of that which we cannot fully understand, and in a way are forced to embrace, comes from God. Are we then given pain so that we can understand the value and the wonder of joy and happiness? When one takes this to a logical conclusion, it seems that we encounter the Shoah along the way and we are then left speechless. What possible justification is there!
Cost of Saving Nineveh
As one reflects on the book of Jonah, and moves beyond what has become something of a simplistic tale of “Jonah and the Whale,” and indeed beyond the ill-conceived idea of Jonah being xenophobic and the purveyor of ideas that historically have lead to an anti-semitic perspective, we once again encounter the issue of theodicy. We know now, and the prophet and the people knew then, that the Assyrian kingdom had a propensity for the abuse of power, and impulse for violence, as witnessed when the Assyrian Empire destroyed the Northern Kingdom of Israel in 721 BCE. Given this, the searching and difficult question must be asked: why would God set out to save a nation, particularly with the somewhat extreme measures witnessed in Jonah, knowing that Assyrian Empire would in fact come to destroy Israel? So then, the question arises as to whether God should be proactive in saving Israel knowing that destruction looms or simply allow Israel, the people, including the innocents, and land to be punished? Part of the complexity in Jonah is the fact that it not only points to the theme of divine mercy for all people, including the Assyrians whose track record for abuse of power and violence is known and documented, but also the question of divine justice. Thus, would a just God save the Assyrians, or for that matter invite the Assyrians to repentance knowing that with the possibility of repentance, these very Assyrians will indeed destroy Israel? In this regard, perhaps one might argue that Jonah, aware as he was of the Assyrian history and propensity for violence, and the execution of unbridled power, simply did not want to have God exercise what is very much a part of who God is, namely a God of justice and mercy. One might also argue with some justification that one should not be condemned on the basis of what one imagines might happen in the future. This is a philosophical principle that humans might employ in pondering human realities, but it poses greater complexities with regard to God. It is far too easy and perhaps even simplistic to speak of devastating punishment and violence such as exile and Shoah; slavery or war,