4 min read

Job Blessed God for the Evil Measure Too

Herds gone. A house fallen on the children. Job's wife told him to curse. He stayed on the ash and blessed the Name.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Messengers Finished
  2. Shall We Accept Only the Good
  3. With All Your Soul
  4. Akiva Kept Saying One
Job Blessed God for the Evil Measure Too Click for full size

The Messengers Finished

The messengers came in a chain that left no breath between blows. Herds gone. Servants gone. A house fallen on sons and daughters. Job stood up. He tore his robe. He shaved his head. He fell to the ground. He did not curse.

"The Lord has given and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21).

The ash was still warm from the news. Flocks that had been his that morning were a count in someone else's mouth. The blessing went up anyway. He named God for the taking as he had named God for the giving. The mouth did the work before the mind had a theology ready.

Shall We Accept Only the Good

Job's wife looked at the ash and the sores and said what fear often says. "Do you still persist in your integrity? Blaspheme God and die" (Job 2:9).

Job answered that she spoke like the coarse women. "Shall we accept only the good of God and not the evil?" The question was not a riddle for a study hall. It was a man covered in boils refusing a smaller god. The sores still burned. The children were still dead. He would not give the bitter cup a different Name.

David had already practiced the pattern. Affliction and sorrow found him, and he called on the Name. Later he lifted the cup of salvation and called on the same Name (Psalms 116). One voice. Two weathers. Job's ash heap put that pattern on a body that had lost the flocks and the children in a single afternoon.

With All Your Soul

Deuteronomy commands love with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might (Deuteronomy 6:5). The heart must stay whole, undivided, not split among other powers. The soul is costlier. "With all your soul" means even if it costs your life. Psalms already knew the price: because of You we are killed all day long, reckoned as sheep for slaughter (Psalms 44:23).

Shimon ben Menassia pressed the verse in the study house. Are we really killed the entire day? He tied the idea to circumcision, a cut that marks a body as willing to pay. Ben Azzai went further. Love God up to the last breath, so that even the extraction of the soul does not diminish the love.

Eliezer sorted the pair of phrases by what a person values most. For those who cling to the body more than to wealth, the Torah says "with all your soul," be ready to give life. For those who cling to property more than to flesh, it says "with all your might," be ready to empty the storehouse. The command finds the tender place and asks for it. Job had already emptied the storehouse. The sores asked for the soul next.

Akiva Kept Saying One

Akiva sat with students over meodecha (מאדך), your might. Every middah (מדה), every measure God metes out, whether for good or for evil. Love is not a fair-weather contract. It is a stance that names God in the bitter cup and in the cup of salvation alike. Job had already lived the clause on the ground of Uz before the friends arrived with speeches that sounded right and landed wrong.

Centuries later Rome took Akiva. Iron combs worked his flesh. The word "One" stayed on his lips. The soul-clause left the study house and entered an execution. He did not renegotiate the verse when the measure turned. Job's blessing and Akiva's last word share a spine. Two men, different centuries, same refusal to let pain write a smaller theology.

On the ground of Uz the sores still burned. The children were still dead. The blessing stood. Heaven had heard a love that did not wait for restoration to become honest. The evil measure did not get the last word over the mouth.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

2 sources

The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Sifrei Devarim 32:7Sifrei Devarim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Sifrei by Rabbi Shraga Silverstein · CC-BY

The Sifrei Devarim, a collection of legal midrashim (rabbinic interpretive commentary) on the Book of Deuteronomy, grapples with this very question in a powerful passage. It all starts with the verse urging us to love God "with all your soul" (Deuteronomy 6:5). Rabbi Akiva, that towering figure of Jewish wisdom, then asks a compelling question: If we're commanded to love God with all our soul, how much more so should we love God "with all your might" (meodecha)?

What does "with all your might" even mean? Rabbi Akiva explains that meodecha implies that we should thank God for every measure (middah) that He metes out to us, "whether for good or for evil." We’re called to recognize God's presence and purpose in everything, not just the pleasant experiences.

King David understood this deeply. As he says in Psalm 116, "Affliction and sorrow did I find, and in the name of the L-rd I called." Even in the midst of suffering, David turned to God. Later in that same Psalm, he proclaims, "I shall lift up the cup of salvation, and in the name of the L-rd will I call." He acknowledged God in both the bitter and the sweet.

Then there’s Iyyov, or Job, a figure synonymous with enduring hardship. When tragedy struck, wiping away his family and possessions, what did he say? "The L-rd has given and the L-rd has taken away; blessed be the name of the L-rd." (Job 1:21). He blessed God "both for the measure of good and for the measure of evil.”

Talk about a powerful response! But his wife… well, she had a slightly different perspective. "Do you still persist in your integrity?" she asks him. "Blaspheme God and die!" (Job 2:9).

Iyyov's response is legendary: "You speak as one of the coarse women. Shall we accept only the good of God and not the evil?" It’s a sharp rebuke, but it gets to the heart of the matter: Can we truly claim to believe in God if we only acknowledge Him when things are going well?

The Sifrei Devarim doesn't let us off the hook there. It brings up the generations of the Flood and the people of Sodom and Amorah. They were "degenerate by reason of the good bestowed upon them." They became complacent, perhaps even arrogant, because of their prosperity. And when punishment came, they "accepted it perforce" – begrudgingly, without understanding or repentance.

The text then delivers a powerful a fortiori argument – a logical deduction that goes something like this: If even those who are corrupted by good ultimately accept punishment (albeit resentfully), how much more should those who readily accept good also accept punishment with understanding and faith?

That brings us back to Iyyov and his unwavering faith. He understood that true belief isn't conditional. It isn't dependent on a life free of pain or suffering. It's about acknowledging God's presence in all aspects of our lives, the good and the bad.

Remember Rabbi Akiva's words: "For every measure that He metes out to you, whether for good or for evil, (thank Him)." It's a radical idea, accepting the difficult alongside the pleasant. But perhaps, in doing so, we can find a deeper, more resilient faith – a faith that truly loves God with all our soul, and with all our might.

Full source
Sifrei Devarim 32:6Sifrei Devarim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Sifrei by Rabbi Shraga Silverstein · CC-BY

Deuteronomy, or Sifrei Devarim in Hebrew, commands us to love God "with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might" (Deuteronomy 6:5). Seems straightforward enough. But the rabbis of old, they just couldn't leave it at that. They dove deep, wrestling with what those words truly demand of us.

The phrase "with all your heart"… well, that’s about keeping your heart whole, undivided. It means not entertaining other gods, not letting your loyalties get split. As the Sifrei Devarim itself suggests, it's about avoiding polytheism, the belief in multiple gods. It's about a singular, unwavering focus.

"with all your soul"… now that's where it gets intense. The text suggests it means loving God so much, even if it costs you your life. It brings to mind the verse in Psalms (44:23), "For because of You we are killed the entire day. We are reckoned as sheep for the slaughter. But Rabbi Shimon ben Menassia offers a different take. He asks, "Are we really killed the entire day?" He connects this idea to the mitzvah, the commandment, of circumcision. A ritual act that, in a way, symbolizes a willingness to sacrifice.

Ben Azzai takes it even further, suggesting that "with all your soul" means loving God right up until your very last breath. Loving so intensely that even the extraction of your soul doesn't diminish that love.

And then there's the question: Why both "with all your soul" and "with all your might"? Rabbi Eliezer grapples with this. He posits that it depends on what we value most. For some, their physical well-being, their body, is more precious than their possessions. For them, the Torah says, "with all your soul" – meaning, be prepared to give up your very life. But for others, their wealth, their "might," is what they hold dearest. For them, the Torah says, "with all your might" – be prepared to surrender everything you own.

That the Torah tailors its message to our individual struggles, recognizing that sacrifice takes different forms for different people.

So, what does all this mean for us today? Are we being asked to literally give up our lives or fortunes? Maybe, in extreme circumstances. But perhaps it's more about the daily choices we make. Where do we invest our time, our energy, our resources? What do we prioritize? Are we living with an undivided heart, a soul ablaze with love, and a willingness to sacrifice for what we believe in? Are we ready to give up what is most precious to us, whether that be our comfort, our security, or our ego, for something greater?

These are difficult questions, questions that have echoed through generations. And they're questions worth wrestling with, because in that wrestling, we just might discover the true meaning of loving with all our heart, soul, and might.

Full source