Fair

January 26, 2024

“It’s not fair!” If I had a nickel for every time I heard that plaintiff wail when our kids were growing up, I’d be a wealthy man today. Kids have an innate sense of fairness, especially when it comes to themselves. Not much different than adults, really. 

It’s not fair that the well-connected can grease the wheels of justice. A high-priced lawyer can work wonders, running legal circles around a court-appointed novice just out of law school. The fine for driving fifty miles an hour in a thirty-mile an hour zone is the same for the millionaire as it is for the minimum wage worker. Just today in our local newspaper, our New York catch-and-release bail system, a teenager who has repeatedly vandalized local businesses in Dunkirk is out on the streets again with no consequences for his destructive behavior, while his victims bear the full cost of of his illicit activities. It’s not fair.

We expect life to be fair, but the sad legacy of history is a tale of the rich and powerful lording over, and oppressing the poor and weak. It’s been that way since the beginning of time; “might makes right.”

The book of Job is an epic poem about the basic unfairness, the injustice in this world. “Why do the good suffer while the evil ones go unpunished?” This question is debated from every angle, and the answers are not always welcome. The beginning of the book describes a scene in which we are merely pawns in a divine game of chess, victims of a divine pissing match between God and Satan. That’s one way of looking at our suffering, and although Job finally comes through with flying colors, the God it portrays seems a petty ruler who uses us to prove a point.

The bulk of the poem consists of the various ways we try to understand and cope with the injustices life throws at us. But at the end is a surprise; instead of answering our questions, God questions us. He makes no attempt to defend his actions, but instead thunderously declares our inability to understand things far beyond us. The question of fairness remains unanswered, but God’s revelation of himself renders the question moot. When we come face to face with the majesty of the Living God, the Creator of all that is, the sheer glory of his presence silences our lips. Having spent the entire book proclaiming his innocence and God’s injustice, Job finally declares, 

“I’m speechless, in awe—words fail me. I should never have opened my mouth! I’ve talked too much, way too much. I’m ready to shut up and listen.”

I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me, made small talk about wonders way over my head. You told me, ‘Listen, and let me do the talking. Let me ask the questions. You give the answers.’ I admit I once lived by rumors of you; now I have it all firsthand—from my own eyes and ears! I’m sorry—forgive me. I’ll never do that again, I promise! I’ll never again live on crusts of hearsay, crumbs of rumor.”“

  —Job 40:3-5, 42:1-6 

I wish I had better answers to this question, but God keeps some things to himself. The good news in all this is simply that when we are in relationship with God (in Christ), his presence, his forgiveness, his love allows us to leave the answers in his hands, even as we are surely in those same hands, the very hands that were nailed to a cross for us.