Today, we're going to talk about Job, a righteous man who, according to tradition, almost made it into the inner circle.

The Book of Job, of course, tells the story of a man who suffers immensely, testing his faith. But the Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, adds layers to this familiar narrative. It paints Job as exceptionally righteous, “the most pious Gentile that ever lived,” even calling him "the servant of God"— a high honor indeed! But get this: he was also doubly related to Jacob, making him almost part of the family. He was both a grandson of Esau (Jacob’s brother) AND the son-in-law of Jacob, having married Dinah as his second wife. Talk about connections!

So, why isn’t it "the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Job"? What kept Job from reaching that ultimate level of recognition?

According to the legends, Job’s downfall was his lack of unwavering faith during his trials. He “murmured against God.” Had he remained steadfast, the honor of having his name joined to God’s in prayer would have been his. Imagine that! People would call upon "the God of Job" just as they call upon the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Pretty powerful stuff.

God, as the legends tell it, even remonstrated with Job. "Why didst thou murmur when suffering came upon thee?" He asks, in so many words. "Do you think you are better than Adam, who I punished with death for a single transgression, and he didn't complain? Are you greater than Abraham, whom I tested relentlessly, and who never murmured? Are you more worthy than Moses, who I denied entry into the Promised Land, and yet he accepted it silently? Or even Aaron, who experienced the tragic loss of his sons without complaint?"

Wow. Talk about putting things into perspective.

The contrast between Job and the Patriarchs is stark. As Ginzberg points out, Abraham, addressing God, said, "That be far from Thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked, that so the righteous should be as the wicked." In contrast, Job exclaimed against God, "It is all one; therefore I say, He destroyeth the perfect and the wicked." Both spoke their minds, but their perspectives—and their fates—differed greatly. Abraham was rewarded, and Job... well, Job was punished, or at least, severely tested.

Job, convinced of his innocence, even dared to accuse God of injustice. As Ginzberg phrases it, Job had the audacity to say to God: "O Lord of the world... Thou createst the righteous and also the wicked. There is none to hinder, Thou canst do as seemeth good in Thy sight." In other words, "You made everything, so if things are bad, it's on you!"

His friends, of course, jumped in to defend God. "It is true, God hath created the yetzer hara (evil inclination)," they argued, "but He hath also given man the Torah as a remedy against it." The Torah, in this view, provides the tools to overcome our base impulses. Therefore, the wicked can't just blame God for their actions.

But why did Job go so far? Why these "extravagant utterances"? The legends suggest it was because Job didn’t believe in the resurrection of the dead. He only saw earthly rewards and punishments. Thus, he concluded that his suffering must be a mistake; God must have confused him with someone else.

God, in response, delivers a powerful, almost poetic rebuke, highlighting the intricate precision of the universe. "Many hairs have I created upon the head of man, yet each hair hath its own sac... Should I, then, have mistaken Job for another?" And so on, with rain drops, thunderbolts, gazelles, and hinds. The message is clear: The universe is meticulously crafted and maintained. Nothing is random. How could God possibly make such a fundamental mistake as to inflict suffering on the wrong person?

Even with Job’s harsh words, God wasn’t happy with his friends’ harsh judgment. After all, "A man may not be held responsible for what he does in his anguish," and Job’s suffering was immense.

So, what can we take away from this? Job's story reminds us that even the most righteous among us can falter in the face of extreme adversity. It's a story about faith, doubt, and the immense challenge of accepting what we don't understand. And perhaps, it’s a reminder that even when we feel like God has made a mistake, there might be a larger, incomprehensible plan at play. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a testament to the importance of unwavering faith, even when the world seems to be falling apart.