Life isn’t fair. Helpless children suffer for their parents’ mistakes. Some who work hard are cut down prematurely by accident or disease. Others who hardly work inherit the wealth of someone else’s labor.

People of faith seem as subject to the luck of the draw as the weekend gambler. As if by a random dealing of the cards, some are born into wealth and influence. Others start their journey with weak bodies, troubled families, and economic hardship.

The burden of wisdom

Solomon, wise as he was, observed long ago that life on earth fails the test of fairness. In his later years he wrote, “I returned and saw under the sun that—the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding, nor favor to men of skill; but time and chance happen to them all” (Ecclesiastes 9:11).

An R-rated insight

For as long as possible we try to shield our children from the naked injustices of life. We talk to them about the wisdom of hard work and good choices. We teach our little ones that good things happen to good people and that bad things happen to bad people. But in reflective moments, we know that the rules we teach only work for some of the people, some of the time.

The logic of irreverence

Our suspicions, if true, lead to uneasy thoughts. If life is not fair, maybe God is not fair.

We are not the first to have doubts about the fairness of God. The author of Psalm 73 felt his faith crumbling under the weight of unfair circumstances. At first he was afraid to say what he was thinking. He was overwhelmed by injustices that shouted down his faith. In the shadows of his mind he wondered whether his belief in God had been a waste of time and opportunity (v.13).

A view from the sanctuary

Then something happened. From a window in “the sanctuary,” the songwriter saw further than he had ever seen before. The future of those he had been envying came into focus. A life that began like a street game of craps took on the look of the end game of chess. Suddenly the author of Psalm 73 remembered that no one outthinks God’s final moves.

Nothing had changed but his perspective when the songwriter wrote, “Thus my heart was grieved, and I was vexed in my mind. I was so foolish and ignorant; I was like a beast before You. Nevertheless I am continually with You; You hold me by my right hand. You will guide me with Your counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You” (vv.21-25).

But what if we don’t find comfort in thoughts of heaven and the future?

Another view of unfairness

For those who aren’t satisfied with the promise of something they can’t see or touch, the Bible offers another answer. From the period of Abraham comes the story of a man who struggled for his sanity in the aftermath of personal loss. For a while it looked like Job might lose not only his faith but his mind as well.

Along the way, well-meaning friends turned against him. They accused him of hiding the wrong that would explain his suffering. In long speeches and drawn-out arguments they insisted that Job couldn’t fool them by his false claims of innocence. Together they condemned him with the logic of their theology. They argued by theory and practice that God is fair. They wanted him to admit that we experience happiness or pain in proportion to our own choices.

Job didn’t buy it. He argued with his friends. He was furious with them. He knew they were wrong. He wasn’t hiding a secret sin that would explain why he was suffering and they weren’t.

Closing arguments

This time God used a violent thunderstorm rather than the quiet of a sanctuary. As Job argued with his friends, dark clouds moved in (Job 37). Lightning flashed. The ground shook. And out of the storm God broke His silence (38). Yet when God spoke, He didn’t give Job the answer of Psalm 73. He didn’t tell Job to wait for a future day of judgment. Neither did God point to the risks of living in a fallen world. The Lord didn’t even blame Satan for sponsoring all the terrible things that had happened to Job, his wife, and his children.

Instead, God took Job to the forest. He took him to the ocean. To the mountains. To a midnight sky. To the flashing violence of a thunderstorm. To the shadow of His presence in nature. To the natural wonder of a God who uses the blackness of night to give birth to the morning.

Job saw the natural world around him as he had never seen it before. It was as if he had heard God say, “Look around you. Look at what I have already done. If you can hear My voice in this powerful storm, and if you can see My signature and fingerprints all over the world around you, can you trust Me to know what is best for you now?

If we could have seen Job through the eyes of his friends, we would have seen his muscles relax. We would have heard him say to an invisible Presence, “I know that You can do everything, and that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from You. . . . I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You. Therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:2-6).  

Father in heaven, sometimes we too feel as if we are going to lose our faith in You. Sometimes we are so angry, and so sad. Please take us into Your sanctuary and into the forest. Then Father, please let us see the greatest unfairness of all. Don’t let us rest until we see Your Son suffering for our wrongs, and dying in our place. —Mart De Haan