Mankind, as a whole, has contemplated and faced the problem of suffering and pain throughout every age of uncovered history; a problem which has shown itself so potent, so vast, and so obscure that philosophers, scholars, and artists over centuries and innumerous cultures have devoted their lives and work to uncovering its roots, and seeking its end. The components of the problem, although exceptionally complex from an internal perspective, can be consolidated and outlined by three questions. The first is one of origin: what is suffering and why does it exist? The second, then, is one of equity: why do people experience suffering when they have done nothing to deserve it? And the third (as many people and cultures turned toward conceptions of the Divine in response to the profundity of the human condition) is one of fault: if there is a God, and he is sovereign, why would he allow this to happen? While many cultures processed these questions and the overarching problem differently, one culture in particular, produced a foundational perspective upon which many others have then built and expanded, tailoring it to fit their own. This perspective arose from the heart of ancient Israel; from the ancient Hebrew people, one of whom, circa 1800 BCE, penned the inspired work of The Book of Job.1 Religiously and philosophically, this text is one of the most referenced works regarding the questions of suffering and pain in the world, with centuries of subsequent art and literature pointing to its premise in their own attempts to resolve them.2
The focus of this essay is the exploration of western literature between the 16th and 20th centuries that contain traces of Joban philosophy within their doctrine, message, and art. Starting with the protestant reformer, Martin Luther, and his religious, revolutionary work published in the early 16th century, this essay follows the successive centuries by looking into the works and contemporary ideologies of William Shakespeare, Voltaire, Charles Dickens, and Samuel Beckett. The connection between these authors’ ideas and the Joban ideology is subtle but clear, touching, whether directly or indirectly, on each of the three aforementioned and defining questions to the problem of suffering. Through the consideration of each source and their approaches to answering the questions, it is evident that Joban ideology has not only left an irrevocable mark on humanity’s understanding of suffering and pain, but it has also opened a door to many more avenues through which to explore and understand the problem as a whole.
Joban Philosophy: Divine Providence in Unjust Suffering
There are several varying conceptions regarding the origin and cultural intent of The Book of Job, some of which claim that it began as a moral story passed down orally over generations until later preserved in writing, leaving open the speculation of whether it was a true historical account or whether it was intended simply to convey a traditional ideology of the Hebrew faith. Others adamantly believe it to have been a mere work of art, a poem that was cherished by the Hebrew people similar to the Psalms or Song of Solomon.3 Regardless of its original intent or the situation of its founding, it is widely accepted to, in the words of Joban scholar H. L. Ellison, “at least in its earlier formation…express a truth which most today tacitly accept” (Ellison 17). This “truth,” to which Ellison refers is the conclusion of The Book of Job; the Hebrew response to the problem of suffering and the outlining questions that define it.
Job’s story answers the questions of origin, equity, and fault with a revolutionary vision of sovereign permission in place of the traditionally accepted ideology of moral retribution. The first chapter of The Book of Job depicts God—believed by the Hebrew people to be sovereign, just, and morally good—not only permitting the suffering of Job, but ostensibly initiating it with a question: “Hast thou considered My servant, Job…a perfect and upright man, one that feareth God and escheweth evil?” (Job 1:8). By drawing attention to Job’s righteousness, He knowingly makes him a target for Satan’s testing and attack. Satan, the malevolent spirit, antithesis of God, and driving force of evil on earth gambles with God, claiming that if Job were to lose everything valuable to him, including his health, wealth, and family, that his righteousness would inevitably diminish as well. Therefore, God grants Satan permission to test his hypothesis by making Job a target of undeserved pain and suffering. Thus, by Joban philosophy, the origin of suffering lies in the hand of Satan, exacted upon mankind only by the permission of God.
The questions of fault and equity are then left open. Why would a good and sovereign God permit suffering—especially for those who do not deserve it? While these questions contain reasonable logic in their construction, they are rooted in an assumption that God is confined to act within the law of moral retribution, the Deuteronomist code, defined by Old Testament Scholar, Ronald E. Murphy as a belief that “God rewards the good with prosperity, and punishes the evil with misfortune” (Murphy 57). The three friends of Job vehemently stand upon this conviction as they seek to move Job toward restoration, claiming that the only explanation for his suffering is that he committed a grievous sin in the eyes of God.4 The problem with this argument lies again in the supposition that God is restricted to man’s understanding of Him. The friends of Job speak from their experience with religious systems and traditions, assuming God to be the exemplar in their laudation; however, over the course of the narrative it becomes clear that the answers to the questions of suffering cannot be found in religious dogma just as God Himself cannot be kept within its bounds. Old Testament Scholar M. A. Beek expresses that “our articles of faith, our dogmatic assertions and what we have learnt from catechism all are shattered into a thousand fragments when they come up against such terrible experiences as those of Job” (Beek 215). This is ultimately what Job encounters through his experience with undeserved suffering and, as Beek continues, “in breaking with the little God who is found only in man’s little systems, he discover[s] the real God whose actions surpass human understanding” (Beek 215).
Therefore, in order to understand the Joban philosophy on the problem of suffering, one must remove all ideas of suffering as punishment or payment for sin, and accept that it is not a matter of retribution at all, but rather what a sovereign God determines is best and permits. Old Testament scholar Edwin M. Good explains that it is “only when one assumes that suffering is a punishment, does the suffering of the innocent appear unjust” (Good 212). When this assumption is eradicated, then it is easier to see there may be purpose in the suffering of innocents. This is the message of The Book of Job: suffering comes through the permission of a good God, by the hand of an evil force (Satan), without partiality for the innocent or the guilty, all for the purpose of divine work far greater than the mind of man can comprehend. This ideology broke the bounds of the traditional Hebrew understanding of God, and paved the way for others—centuries and worlds apart—to explore the problem of suffering through this new, liberating, and expansive perspective.
Martin Luther: Suffering in Faith and Free Will
At the heart of Martin Luther’s revolutionary work for the Christian religion during the sixteenth century, is the idea that faith outweighs all dogmatic systems and traditions implemented and required by religious institution. The western world in the sixteenth century was characterized by the preeminence of the Roman Catholic Church, the rule of religion over all other forms of authority, with the emphasis again on the ancient ideology of moral retribution.5 Not only was there a barrier constructed to separate man from God with an earthly mediator, but there were requirements placed on every Christian’s head to pay for their sin with penance, and to work for their own salvation with fear and trembling.6 This system produced a significant amount of anxiety and paranoia within the masses under Roman Catholic authority, enabling further manipulation and control within the church through the message of pending suffering, should any sin be found not yet confessed and paid for. To this Luther proclaimed, “The assertion of the papists that human traditions effect forgiveness of sins or merit salvation is unchristian and to be condemned.7 As Christ says, “In vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the precepts of men”” 8 (Luther 535). It is in the same way that Job’s friend’s approached the problem of suffering, an error expressed by M. A. Beek as one “shared with most of us, no matter what religion: the moment we have felt God’s presence we have an irresistible urge to turn our experience into a system or a dogma” (Beek 215).
In this medieval religious system, the requirement of penance is similar to the Hebrew law of moral retribution in that they are both constructed for the guilty, and therefore assume guilt even when the actor is unaware of their wrongdoing. It is for this reason that Job responds to his friends’ accusations, “Teach me, and I will hold my tongue: and cause me to understand wherein I have erred” (Job 6:24). Similarly, Luther writes in his The Smalcald Articles, that “the sins which had been forgotten were pardoned only when a man remembered them…Accordingly, he could never know when he had made a sufficiently complete or a sufficiently pure confession” (Luther 521). It is from these perspectives that the problem of suffering is either attributed or justified in Luther’s world. As mentioned in the previous section on Job, suffering is attributed to sin under the law of retribution; and in the case of Luther’s sixteenth-century church, suffering is also justified and imposed upon the actor in payment for sin. In both circumstances of traditional understanding, suffering is a direct result of sin.
The comparison here, however, lies in the moment Luther breaks the chains of dogmatic tradition as they pertain to suffering, thus addressing the questions of origin, equity, and fault. When Luther turns from this traditional understanding, he creates a moment comparable to that of when Job hears the voice of God and sees Him face to face, shattering the ideology of God’s hand in human suffering. “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee” (Job 42:5). This passage indicates a radical shift, a change from a widely held perspective—as people often base their convictions off of what they “hear”—to a narrow one of unveiled truth—as visual witness often produces stronger grounds for the conversion of beliefs. Likewise, Luther radically shifts from what was widely accepted to a narrow understanding of Divine involvement in humanity. Luther’s revelation holds that suffering originates in the fallen nature of humanity, from the evil and wickedness living within the world. Referring to a passage in the New Testament book, Romans,9 Luther expresses in his work The Bondage of the Will, “It is no small matter to say that man is ignorant of God and despises God, for these are the sources of all crimes, the sink of all sins, nay, the hell of all evils,” and thus, the root of all suffering (Luther 187).
The questions of fault and equity, then, must be addressed within Luther’s understanding of Divine providence. In Luther’s theology, man does not have free will. If he did, then he would be able to choose, against his nature, to act perfectly good and just in every way. “What can the will choose that is good when it is itself evil…what choice has the will when reason dictates to it only the darkness of its own blind ignorance? (Luther 186). This position elevates God again to a position of powerful sovereignty over mankind, indicating as well a position of power in the affairs of humanity, as man cannot, of himself, be wholly just. However, Luther is very clear that God does not hold this position as a means for control, but rather as an outlet for the overflow of His grace. “For his whole concern here is to make grace necessary for all men. But if they were able to initiate anything of themselves, there would be no need of grace” (Luther 186). Without the innate wickedness of mankind, the grace of God would be obsolete. Similarly, without the natural state of suffering in the world, there would be need for the comfort of faith in God for salvation. Thus God does not initiate suffering but, as it is the natural tendency of the world, uses it for His own good purposes—especially in the revelation of salvation, the freedom from sin, by grace and through faith. 10 This is ultimately the conclusion Job derived from his experience with God as well—that man cannot comprehend the ways of God, but is wholly dependent on His providence to persevere and be refined through hardships; “He knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold” (Job 23:10).
William Shakespeare: Suffering to Improve Morality
Turning to the early seventeenth century when Shakespeare’s King Lear first appeared to the English public, it is evident that the conception of divine and grace-filled suffering shifted during the brutal medieval years following Luther’s publications. In Shakespeare’s work, there is evidence for the acknowledgement of Joban philosophy, but the emphasis centers on an interrogation of it, rather than on mere acceptance or agreement. England in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was characterized by harsh governing authority, religious conflict, rampant disease, and extreme class distinctions, keeping the majority of the population significantly below the poverty line.11 Thus, sickness, death, persecution and legalism were common traits of Shakespeare’s England. His works as well were replete with these themes, which he used to lead society in the philosophical questioning of the purpose behind human suffering. In The Tragedy of King Lear, Shakespeare presents this question through a fictional, yet exceptionally vivid and relatable narrative of ultimate suffering, pain, and loss. The story follows two main plots which complement each other with comparable suffering, ultimately joining together in the end. In both, it reveals the loss of wealth, status, family, and health, the very same aspects of life that were lost to Job as well. However, where The Book of Job presents unexplainable loss from the human perspective, King Lear depicts loss as a result of the selfish wiles of mankind. It wrestles with the role of nature and the divine in human suffering, and contends with the lack of partiality for the just and the unjust; thus directly addressing the same foundational questions of origin, equity, and fault in the problem of suffering.
While Shakespeare clearly portrays a world in which suffering results from the selfishness and deceit of humanity, he does not leave the audience with any decisive conclusions about its origin. In The Book of Job, Job sees and experiences only the effect of suffering, accepting a divine cause far beyond his understanding. In King Lear, however, Shakespeare presents both the cause and the effect of suffering through the overall storyline, yet leaves the deeper questions of origin to the characters within it. When King Lear first realizes the horror of his state, he immediately questions the divine: “You heavens…you gods…if it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts against their father, fool me not so much to bear it tamely” (Shakespeare 2.4.274-279). While the narrative presents the origin of his suffering as the selfish action of Goneril and Regan, King Lear questions whether or not there is a greater hand at work in it, mirroring the ideas of Joban and Lutheran philosophy on this matter.12 Other characters allude to it as well, as Kent expresses to the French soldier looking for King Lear, “It is the stars, the stars above us, that govern our conditions” (4.4.34-35). Thus Shakespeare leaves the conclusion of origin and fault for the audience to decide; he merely opens the door to deliberate contemplation.
In the same manner, Shakespeare highlights the Joban idea of undeserved suffering by portraying the unjust pain and loss by the considerably most honorable characters. Cordelia, Albany, Edgar, and Kent all demonstrate virtue in their actions and thoughts throughout the play, yet they are not exempt from the snare of pain and loss. Cordelia, arguably the most virtuous character in the story, is ultimately the one who faces the harshest end. However, it is not only the just who suffer: Gonreil, Regan, and Edward all face brutal death at the end of the narrative as well, addressing the concept that suffering shows no partiality. It is for this reason that the mad Lear says to Gloucester who has recently lost his sight, wealth, and title, “Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light. Yet you see how the world goes,” to which Gloucester replies, “I see it feelingly” (4.6.150-152). This statement expresses the Joban idea of the inability to comprehend injustice in suffering, yet the overwhelming ability to experience it.
Ultimately, Shakespeare takes a different approach on the problem of suffering. While he does not provide conclusive ideas on the questions of origin, equity, and fault, he directs the audience to something more significant, presenting two ideas of good that comes through suffering. The first is an increase of empathy, as displayed in King Lear after his loss; “Take psysic, pomp; expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, that thou mayst shake the superfluex to them and show the heavens more just” (3.4.33-36). The second is an ability to give comfort to others, as the suffering Edgar is comforted by the suffering of King Lear. “The mind much sufferance doth o’erskip when grief hath mates and bearing fellowship. How light and portable my pain seems now, when that which makes me bend, makes the King bow” (3.7.112-115). Thus Shakespeare provides hope by acknowledging purpose within suffering, but leaves the audience to contemplate whether or not it is divinely ordained.
Voltaire: Optimism and Purpose amidst Suffering
Breaking into the eighteenth century, the Enlightenment uncovered new perspectives and fresh revelations on the problem of suffering through the rampant ideas of liberty, equality, justice, scientific discovery, and reason among all else.13 The famous French philosopher, Voltaire, who lived through the struggle of the American Revolution and the birth pains of the subsequent French Revolution, who was saturated in Enlightenment thought and difficulty, addressed the problem of suffering through his comic novella, Candide. While it is frequently interpreted to be a philosophical argument against Leibnizian Optimism—a belief that the world in which humanity lives is divinely constructed as the best of possible worlds, and therefore signifies purpose in all forms of suffering—the work concludes with a similarly optimistic perspective that seems ultimately to compliment Leibnizian philosophy.14 While the conclusions of Voltaire and Joban philosophy differ slightly on this matter, they possess many similar perspectives on the questions of origin, equity, and fault.
All of these questions are addressed together in the final chapter of the book through Pangloss’s conversation with the wisest philosopher in Turkey. In this moment, even the faithful Pangloss experiences doubt regarding divine goodness, and asks him why humanity exists, supporting his question with “there is a horrible deal of evil on the earth” (Voltaire 205). To this, the Dervish responds with a parable; “When his highness sends a ship to Egypt, does he trouble his head whether the rats in the vessel are at their ease or not?” (Voltaire 205). Thus, the origin, equity, and fault of suffering, as expressed by Voltaire, lie in the divine providence of a God with a larger purpose for humanity. As God carries out His greater purpose, He permits impartial human suffering in order to accomplish a larger, more important task. The Dervish explains that the only thing to do with questions such as these it to “Be silent,” and he closes the door, symbolizing inaccessible knowledge (Voltaire 205). Likewise, when Job contends with God, seeking clear answers for the suffering in his life, God responds to him in the storm; “Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?” (Job 38:2). God rebukes Job’s complaint as it comes from a place that lacks understanding, undermining His purposes. After hearing the voice of God, and witnessing His sovereignty which far exceeds that of man, Job replies, “I have uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I understood not.” (Job 42:3). Job resolves to hold his tongue, as Pangloss and Candide are instructed to do by the Dervish.
In light of this conclusion, Voltaire presents optimistic hope for humanity in that there is purpose for the suffering, and joy to be had in the ordained life God gives. At the very end of the final chapter, Pangloss considers that the reason Adam and Eve were placed in the Garden of Eden was “to dress it,” or to work in service to God (Voltaire 207). Thus the protagonists conclude that in this life of inaccessible understanding, “we must take care of our garden,” doing the work that humanity has been given to do, finding contentment and joy within it (Voltaire 207). John N. Pappas, in his article “Voltaire and the Problem of Evil” expresses, “[The problem of evil’s] conclusion resounds throughout his works: metaphysical inquiry is futile. Since he cannot see the universe as God sees it, man will never know the answers; he is better off escaping the dilemma through more practical activities” (Pappas 205). Pangloss ponders too that had their suffering not taken place as it did, then they would not have arrived where they were, in a place of contentment, experience, and trust in divine sovereignty.
Charles Dickens: Suffering and the Loss of Morality
The economic and industrial growth of the nineteenth century provided success and flourishment to the western world in ways which it had never seen before. While the expansion brought more efficiency and fullness to the life of mankind as a whole, it left many vacancies as well, particularly in terms of morality. As Charles Dickens depicts in his novel, Hard Times, society during this period entered a state of intellectual, emotional, and spiritual numbness, in which humanity was compelled to observe the world and act through logic and reason alone, adopting a “scientific attitude” to address every aspect of the human condition.15 As Dickens paints a picture of this emotionless world, it becomes evident that any form of the divine is left out of it as well, thus also depicting a world without the hand of a sovereign and good God ordaining it. Yet interestingly, the story is told from an omniscient narrator, alluding to the presence of God in relaying the story, like a parable that Christ would have used to convey His message and purposes. By this perspective, as expressed by Victorian scholar Dr. Thomas Vargish, “we are encouraged to see past the narrator’s consciousness with a challenging but nevertheless reassuring constancy to a world beyond” (Vargish 90-91). Ultimately, the world of Hard Times is disastrous, a hopeless and despairing picture of mankind, proving to the audience that the philosophy of sole logic, reason, and the “scientific attitude” is flawed, and that the absence of God—of divinity, emotion, empathy, morality, and feeling—is unsustainable.
As expressed before, both Job and Candide conclude their questions of suffering by resolving to accept that they may never understand the sovereign plan of the divine, but that they will trust it and find joy in life regardless. This conclusion requires faith; and faith in the world of Hard Times is unacceptable; only logic and facts are approved. However, the book shows that this method does not sustain the characters, as the lives of those who lived by it were destroyed. Louisa, feeling trapped in a loveless, logic-based marriage expresses to her father, “All that I know is, your philosophy and your teaching will not save me. Now father, you have brought me to this. Save me by some other means!” (Dickens 176). The statement that her father’s teaching led her to the compromised and painful place in which she abides, implies that suffering originates in the flawed systems of mankind (like the ancient Hebrew law of retribution, or the system of penance from Luther’s world), which themselves come from pride, as seen in the characters of Mr. Gradgrind and Mr. Bounderby. Her plea, “Save me by some other means!” indicates that there is another method for fulfillment in life unrelated to mere logic and reason, as discovered by both Job and Candide in relinquishing their need to comprehend and trusting the sovereignty of God instead.
Similarly, Stephen Blackpool and his star-crossed lover, Rachael, arguably two of the most honorable characters in the novel as well as the poorest, are trapped in suffering due to the same systems of man. The insertion of this subplot into the novel serves to demonstrate that morality does not prevent suffering, but often makes it even more inevitable. A moral person cannot succeed in the world of Hard Times, as morality requires empathy and belief in a higher (and rather obscure) set of governing rules, both which were renounced and expelled from this society. However, this world lacks grace for people of every state, as suffering ultimately visits all the characters—moral or immoral—in one form or another.16 Thus, there is no partiality of suffering in Dicken’s world, but the trials of each character serve to further the message of divine involvement in humanity. Vargish expresses again regarding providence that “[Dickens’] heroes and heroines inevitably return to some sense of the fitness, propriety, congruity of their relation to what happens to them” (Vargish 90). It is by this method that Dickens reveals his intended message through the resolution of the characters’ trials at the close of the book.
Like the story of Job, Hard Times concludes with restoration and a message for the audience to consider. Ultimately, the character who experiences the most fulfilling life is the one most untouched by the restrictions of the mechanistic, faithless world—the world that always seeks a logical answer. The character Sissy Jupe portrays contentment with the inexplicable aspects of life, just as Job resolved to do after having endured undeserved suffering and witnessing the providence of God;17 and it is her humble, imaginative, faithful position that is lauded in the end, suggesting that Dickens acknowledges this Joban philosophy that some bounds to understanding are not meant to be traversed. He demonstrates that when they are, mankind suffers, concluding that it is best to be humble and to leave the supreme facts to the sovereign divine, and enjoy the bliss of not always knowing the answer to all of humanity’s “whys.”
Samuel Beckett: Purposelessness of Suffering and Unanswerable Questions
The restorative aftermath of World War II, while seeking to reconstruct the broken world, also released an onslaught of questions centered on human suffering, the problem of evil, and the possible role of divinity in the chaos of it all. From the two great wars, in which millions of people were killed, homes destroyed, history’s art and culture burned and lost, the overall sentiment of mankind in this moment was “disillusionment.”18 From this source of thought, Samuel Beckett presented to the world Waiting for Godot, an interpretation of the state of mankind, the “human perplexity,” and the case of suffering, intending to acknowledge and salute the disillusioned state of mankind.19 In doing so, the play is replete with unanswered questions as well as obscure, variable attempts to answer them. Even simple questions in the world of Godot cannot be definitively eased: “You’re sure it was this evening?” “What?” “That we were to wait.” “He said Saturday. I think” (Beckett 11). Where Dickens’ world believed an answer to every problem could be deduced through fact and logic, Beckett’s believes the opposite: there are no answers, only the mere speculative hope that one day there potentially could be an answer.
Beckett makes many biblical references throughout the course of the play, the majority of which are slightly off track or incomplete, as in the first and very important case, “Hope deferred maketh the something sick, who said that?”20 (Beckett 8). His use of biblical evidence reveals an intentional inclusion of religion—the presence of the divine—in the process of evaluating the disillusioned state of mankind, thus opening the door to Joban ideas. In the same way, however, that the religious systems of Job’s time were insufficient in explaining the actions and purposes of God, so are the scraps of biblical evidence that Beckett uses in Waiting for Godot. While they do not offer conclusive evidence, they do provide some form of obscure direction for the question of suffering. Toward the end of Act I, when Vladimir encounters the boy who works for Godot, he asks, “What do you do?” to which the boy replies, “I mind the goats, Sir.” (Beckett 34). The ensuing conversation reveals that the boy has a brother who “minds the sheep” and who is frequently beaten by Godot. The goat-keeping boy, however, is never beaten. The biblical reference here originates in the Gospel of Matthew where Christ presents a parable using sheep as the righteous and goats as the unrighteous among men.21 The significance, then, of the beaten sheep-keeper and the cared for goat-keeper is that the suffering of the righteous is prevalent once again, implying that there is no equity in suffering within the realm of mankind.
At the beginning of Act II, similar to Act I, Estragon enters having been beaten by an undefined and unknown mob for no reason at all, as he determines. “I wasn’t doing anything.” “Then why did they beat you?” “I don’t know” (Beckett 39). Again the play depicts undeserved suffering, yet also with an undetermined origin. Estragon underwent a beating, harm and pain that, to him, appeared purposeless; a vision which Beckett leaves with no further evidence or explanation. From the disillusioned, wilderness perspective of humanity, there seems to be no purpose for suffering at all. Such is the perspective of the undeserving sufferer; yet the decision to linger in the abyss, the wilderness of disillusionment where answers are inaccessible, and hope is always deferred, is entirely in their hands. As Vladimir and Estragon contemplate, “Let’s go.” “We can’t.” “Why not?” “We’re waiting for Godot,” they reveal their bondage to the unanswered questions (Beckett 10). As they wait for Godot to come, they hope for answers which will not be revealed to them; yet keeping their minds always fixed in that place, they trap themselves in a wasteland of misery. Their lives depend on the arrival of Godot—their decisions, progress, and joy all hang on his deferred coming. Beckett closes the play with the very same stagnancy: they do not move, alluding to the fact that their lives will indefinitely pass in the same manner. However, the hopeless, monotonous sensation left to the audience is what ultimately reveals the message: leave that mindset behind, leave the metaphysical contemplation that chains mankind to a bed of hopeless despair as they seek answers that are not available. Leave Godot behind and stop waiting for him; find passion and desire in the life that is given to humanity to live, and be content. When mankind acts in this manner, as Job, King Lear, Candide, and Louisa demonstrate in their stories, along with the supporting doctrine of Martin Luther, the withered tree of Godot suddenly dissolves, and in its place grows a luscious, refreshing, strong and prosperous tree of life, which man can cultivate in peace and contentment all his days.22 Such is the life of an undeserving sufferer in the sovereign hands of a good God.
May 10, 2019
Endnotes:
(1) Ronald E. Murphey, in his book, Seven Books of Wisdom explains that while its exact date of origin has been speculated by scholars, it is widely accepted by the Israeli religious leaders to have been composed in the patriarchal era (the time of Abraham), which is circa 1800 BCE.
(2) H. L. Ellison, in the opening chapter of his book From Tragedy to Triumph: The Message of the Book of Job, shares excerpts from prominent scholars and theologians that the premise of Job’s story is one of the most widely learned and accepted understandings of the problem of suffering.
(3) A chapter titled “A Modern Scholar Looks at Job” in Ellison’s book provides details regarding the many speculations of the origin of the text.
(4) On page 57 of Murphey’s book, he explains that the friends of Job stand firmly on the law of retribution in their attempts to console him. “Job must have sinned; no other explanation is possible.” The speeches of Job’s friends are replete with this message, and can be found in chapters 4 through 25 of The Book of Job.
(5) E.G. Schwiebert, in his book, Luther and His Times, presents an opening section titled “The Medieval Church at its Height.” In this section he outlines the domineering state of the Roman Catholic Church during the Middle Ages, along with its power over the people and the monarchy.
(6) The New Testament Scripture, Philippians 2:12, states “Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” This is often used as a justification that man must earn salvation through his own effort. An opinion grounded in the law of retribution.
(7) Section from Luther’s Smalcald Articles titled “Human Traditions.” This is hosted in the book, Martin Luther: Basic Theological Writings translated by Timothy F. Lull, cited in the “Works Cited” section below.
(8) Luther quotes Matthew 15:9 where Christ addresses the Pharisees on the topic of legalism within Judaism.
(9) From Luther’s The Bondage of the Will, and refers to the New Testament passage, Romans 3:10—“None is righteous, no not one, no one understands, no one seeks for God. All have turned aside, together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.”
(10) From the New Testament passage, Ephesians 2:8—“For by grace are ye saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift.”
(11) In chapter one and two of Shakespeare’s England, titled “The Age of Elizabeth” and “Religion” (see References), Sir Walter Raleigh presents the historical background to Shakespeare’s life and works.
(12) Joban philosophy assumes sovereign permission in the origin of suffering (see page 6 of this essay), and Lutheran philosophy acknowledges the wickedness of mankind as the origin of all suffering and pain (see page 8 of this essay).
(13) Information from the introduction of The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The Restoration and the Eighteenth Century (see References). This source contains extensive history and context regarding the shift into the Enlightenment.
(14) Peter Kivy, in his article, “Voltaire, Hume, and the Problem of Evil” presents a section entirely devoted to defining Leibnizian optimism (pages 214-217 of the scholarly journal; see References).
(15) In The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The Victorian Age. 10th Ed., Vol. D. (see References), the editor, Stephen Greenblatt provides an expansive introduction into the Victorian era, explaining the industrial rise and the moral decline. The term “scientific attitude” is on pp. 13.
(16) In “Book the Third” of Hard Times, Dickens presents the final trials of each of the characters and their resolutions.
(17) This occurs in Job 42:1-6.
(18) From the introduction of The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries. There are detailed descriptions of the effects left by the world on humanity. The term “disillusionment” is on pp. 8 and 10.
(19) From the cover of the Grove Press copy of Waiting for Godot (see Works Cited), a review published by The London Times. “…one of the most noble and moving plays of our generation, a threnody of hope deceived and deferred but never extinguished; a play suffused with tenderness for the whole human perplexity; with phrases that come like a sharp stab of beauty and pain.”
(20) From Proverbs 13:12—“Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.”
(21) From Matthew 25:31- 46.
(22) “When desire cometh, it is a tree of life.” The man who trusts in the sovereignty of God, not questioning His purposes nor denying His power, even through suffering, receives the desire of peace and joy, and wields a tree of life. The concept of cultivating the garden is again from Candide (see page 13 of this essay).
Works Cited:
Beckett, Samuel. Waiting for Godot. Grove Press, Inc. New York, 1954.
Beek, M. A. A Journey through the Old Testament. Translated by Arnold J. Pomerans. Hodder and Stoughton Limited, London, 1959.
Dickens, Charles. Hard Times. Edited by Fred Caplan. W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. New York, 2017.
Ellison, H. L. From Tragedy to Triumph: The Message of the Book of Job. The Paternoster Press, London, 1958.
Good, Edwin, M. Irony in the Old Testament. The Westminster Press, Philadelphia, 1965.
Luther, Martin. “The Bondage of the Will;” “The Small Catechism;” “The Freedom of a
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