"We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly. It is only when we raise our voices that the sparks fly and tiny molehills become great mountains of contention."
My
brother, who understands me better than
almost everyone on the planet, sent me a book for
Christmas entitled Re-Reading Job: Understanding the
Ancient World's Greatest Poem. I love to read and am quite a fast
reader. At 260 pages, this should have been a pleasant afternoon's
work. Instead, Job and I have been locked in mortal combat for nearly
five months.
We
all know the story of the righteous Job and his legendary
patience. It sometimes escapes us entirely that the
person described in the poem is not always
patient and not particularly righteous.
The
Book of Job requires one to accept that
the same Heavenly Father who forbade any unclean thing in
his presence was hanging around and
having a casual conversation with his most unrighteous and
unrepentant son.
They
embarked on a friendly wager using one unlucky man as a pawn by first
destroying all that he holds dear. Lots of chapters later he is
somehow triumphant, and he gets lots more stuff given to him.
This
is how we know that it is important to be patient.
Michael
Austin, the author of Re-Reading Job, suggests that none of
this is true — starting with whether or not there was a man
named Job. Austin makes a very strong case for his arguments. He uses
everything from the Book of Job itself to statements from the First
Presidency to etymology and history to lay out a better understanding
of Job.
This
slim book is rife with ibids and footnotes. There is much to
consider. I have ended up reading a few differing versions of the
original poem. I have wandered into a few other books that had
something to say. I have checked out a few statements that I
questioned (he’s always right). Re-Reading Job has been
a small glorious education in itself.
But
that is not what is taking me forever with this book. It is not
reading the book and the source material that is hindering me. My
problem is trying to un-read Job.
Austin
makes the case that I do not understand Job. This matters, he says
because if I do not understand it I cannot glean the good that is
meant for me there. I believe him. He does point out that we get two
chapters of the story being set up, then
a lot of chapters of Job complaining and his friends being horrible
and then a happy ending. He is right. My understanding was
incomplete.
But
somewhere in my head, the fragmented nonsensical picture I had of Job
remains. Some stubborn shard of me finds it tedious work considering
I already know the story. The story I learned first is useless
and weird, but it is still taking a shockingly great deal of force to
pry it loose.
Brains
are funny that way.
I
have another book that has sat on my shelf largely un-read for years.
It is an epic gothic novel with some nice twists on the manners tales
of yore. It seems to be something I would just love. Now and then I
discover it again and think that it seems exactly like what I want to
read.
Then,
I proceed to read the same 100 pages that I have read umpteen times,
resolve (again) to find the author and challenge him to a duel and
then toss the book aside. But never too far aside. It seems like a
waste of a book that will very clearly be my favorite (it will not).
It seems clever (it is not). It seems like a book that it would be a
shame to miss (it would not).
A
book that I should have traded away at the used book store 15 years
ago has conned me into reading it’s stupid 100-page premise
nearly as many times as I have read 1st Nephi. All because my brain
clings tenaciously to the idea that it is just my sort of thing.
That
silly clinging brain is the same reason I still try to eat shrimp,
occasionally listen to the Beatles and own more planners than one
might be able to use. The gap between what I know and what is, is a
frequent stumbling block for me.
I
have been reading a great deal about the human brain lately. A few
things have stood for out for me. The first thing is that most of
what we believe we know about our brains is not true. But setting
that aside, it is amazing to study the plasticity of the human brain
in light of the terminal inflexibility of the human mind.
A
recent study asked respondents how much information would be required
to make them consider changing their opinion on a particular public
health issue. The answer was heartbreaking. Respondents indicated
that there was no amount of information that would change their
minds. None. There was no expert qualified, no information to be
gathered, no research to be done. They knew what they believed. Never
mind the facts.
We
all do this. Similar studies show that we are more likely to end our
marriage than to cross party lines when we vote. Our ideas are the
objects of greater fidelity than our spouses. We assume that everyone
on the other side of anything are horrible people because we lack the
imagination to consider ideas other than the ones we have fed and
nurtured.
I
am still un-reading Job. Part of my grindingly slow pace is the
realization that if I do not understand Job I probably don’t
understand other things as well. There will be more things to
un-read. There will be more ideas to pry loose.
They
must be pried loose if I am ever to get to the good. It is painful to
un-read. It is tiring and challenging to consider whether
the things we know are things that are. But sometimes, that’s
the path to learning what we must follow.
Luckily,
I have learned that Job wasn’t particularly patient either. So
I have company for the road.
I am me. I live at my house with my husband and kids. Mostly because I have found that people
get really touchy if you try to live at their house. Even after you explain that their towels are
fluffier and none of the cheddar in their fridge is green.
I teach Relief Society and most of the sisters in the ward are still nice enough to come.