Righteous Job: A Symbol of Hope Through Suffering

A Conversation with Theologian Petr Malkov

The Book of Job is interpreted by the Fathers of the Church in a typological sense, and we Christians must remember and understand this. Job is one of those figures in whom the history of mankind is fused into a unified whole.

Why, then, does the Lord test Job? To what end does He seek to lead him? What are the typological meanings found in this Old Testament story? How are its inner contradictions to be understood?

These are the questions we discuss with the theologian Petr Malkov.

I. Repin. Job and His Friends. 1869 I. Repin. Job and His Friends. 1869     

The Holy Fathers wrote of the life of the much-suffering Job as an instructive example for all of us. But does the Old Testament Book of Job teach only the patient endurance of afflictions? Or is there a deeper meaning to this story? St. Ambrose of Milan, for example, wrote: “No one loved God more than Job”…

—Indeed, the Book of Job is a school of piety and humility for all who suffer. But its significance for us Christians is not limited to that. And the quotation you mentioned actually reads a bit differently. St. Ambrose of Milan says: “No one loved Christ more than Job.” It is from this perspective that we must approach this sacred history.

Through his sufferings, Job prefigures Christ and His sacrifice upon the Cross. Let us also remember that Job lived in the pre-Mosaic era—before the giving of the Law. He was a descendant of Esau and lived a few generations after Abraham. The account of Job’s sufferings, which occurred before the Law (that is, before the Law given to Moses on Mount Sinai), prepares ancient man for the coming encounter with Christ and for the understanding of the meaning of Christ’s sufferings, which would be revealed in the Incarnation.

The story of Job is one of the Old Testament narratives that taught the people of the Old Covenant whom they ought to expect, in whom they should place their hope—in God, who would become Man and, as Man, suffer for the world and save it through His sufferings.

In fact, the Old Testament, as believed by all the early Fathers of the Church, is first and foremost a book about Christ. It is the history of the salvation of mankind and of humanity’s path toward the meeting with God who became Man. The Old Testament is viewed as being filled with foreshadowings—the Greek word is types—of the coming of Christ and of the salvation He would accomplish.

Saint John Chrysostom says that the Old Testament is like a sketch, a charcoal outline, which would later be filled in with the colors of the New Testament reality of Christ’s coming into the world. Some of the early interpreters liken the New Testament to a shadow cast backward into the past of the Old Testament. That shadow proceeds from the Church of Christ.

Imagine a church building, a Christian temple, on a bright sunny day. But we are turned away from it and see only its shadow, not the building itself. Yet from the shadow we can surmise that it is a church. We can even discern the shape of the cross upon its dome. But we cannot yet see the color of its walls, nor the placement of its doors and windows, nor its precise proportions—only a grey shadow at our feet...

And thus, the history of the Old Testament is perceived in a similar way—as filled with foreshadowings of the New. Upon the Old Covenant, as it were, falls the shadow of the Church of Christ, within which the long-awaited salvation of the people of the Old Covenant will at last be fulfilled. The sun that casts this shadow is Christ Himself, who is “the Sun of righteousness,” as the prophet Malachi foretells: But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings (Malachi 4:2).

These shadows of New Testament realities, cast back into history, were seen by the saints, prophets, and patriarchs of old. And one of the most striking testimonies to the Cross of Christ—a shadow of the Cross cast into ancient times—is the story of Job. I repeat: Job, through his sufferings, prefigures the Passion of Christ upon the Cross.

Moreover, the thought of Saint Ambrose—that no one loved Christ more than Job—is confirmed by the conclusion of Job’s story: at the end of his path of suffering, the Lord reveals Himself to Job precisely as the coming Redeemer. And Job’s words, I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee (Job 42:5), are explained by St. Ambrose of Milan, Blessed Jerome of Stridon, and the deacon Olympiodorus of Alexandria as a prophetic vision of the Lord revealing Himself to Job as the incarnate God.

Certainly, the Lord did not yet come to Job as One already incarnate—the actual Incarnation would not take place for many centuries. But prophetically, Job sees and foresees none other than the coming Christ. He beholds the face of God made Man.

This is why the ancient interpreters speak of the Christological meaning of this book. They write that, as a result of his sufferings, Job was granted new and perfect knowledge of God—knowledge of Him as the Wisdom of God, as the Son of God who would become incarnate and take on human flesh.

In Job’s words about God, there is both gratitude for the sufferings sent to him, and yet also a kind of “struggle with God,” reproach and complaint—for Job curses the day of his birth, and even the day of his conception. How are we to understand this contradiction?

—This question has been raised by many interpreters. The Book of Job is, in fact, one of the most difficult to comprehend. Many modern commentators propose interpretations that differ from the patristic view. For example, in contemporary Catholic exegesis, it is sometimes claimed that Job is prideful—Pierre Dumoulin writes about this. According to this interpretation, Job is sinfully proud of his righteousness and reproaches God because he believes that God has unjustly afflicted so virtuous a man.

From the perspective of some Catholic commentators, Job’s repentance at the end of the book is understood as repentance for his pride.

R. Leinweber. Job the Much-Suffering R. Leinweber. Job the Much-Suffering     

Orthodox interpreters, of course, understand Job’s anguish and his words of reproach toward God in a very different way. We must not forget what has already been said: That no one loved the Lord more than Job. His reproaches are the reproaches of one who sincerely loves the Lord, but for some reason finds no response, no visible return of love. Job burns with love for God—one might liken his feeling to that of a person in love—but it seems to him that God is silent in the face of this love.

These are not the words of hatred or bitterness, but of unrequited love. As the nineteenth-century Russian exegete Alexander Matveevich Bukharev rightly wrote: “In the speeches of Job it was always love that spoke—not glorifying love, but love that was bewildered and that lamented to its Beloved, to God Himself.”

As for Job’s curse upon the day of his birth and conception… The ancient Church Fathers typically taught that Job was not cursing his own particular day of birth or conception, but rather the very fact of birth and conception in a fallen, sinful world. Job yearns for the fullness of communion with God, for the fullness of divine presence, for perfect union with God—and he perceives that in a fallen world, such a thing seems impossible. For, the whole world lieth in wickedness” (1 John 5:19), and mankind is immersed in sin. That original blessedness of paradise—of perfect communion with God, in which Adam and Eve dwelt—has been lost after the Fall.

What Job is expressing here concerns what we call original sin, which, according to the teaching of the Church, is transmitted through passionate, physiological birth—through human conception. It is this inheritance of fallenness, inseparably joined with birth and conception, which separates man from God and builds a wall between Creator and creature—this is what Job curses. And yet, it must be said that, most deeply, Job is mourning his own deprivation of communion with God.

At the same time, Job does hold a mistaken notion, which is discussed by the Holy Fathers. And it is for this that Job, indeed, repents before the Lord. His error lies in the belief that the cause and source of his sufferings is God Himself. He believes that all his misfortunes and torments proceed from God. Remember what he says to his wife when she urges him to curse God and die: Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? (Job 2:10).

But this is a serious mistake—for nothing evil, wicked, or harmful proceeds from God. God only permits evil, but the evil itself—the trials and temptations—proceed from satan.

This is a vital theme, directly connected to the true cause of Job’s sufferings, and to the agent of these sufferings—who, paradoxically, becomes in the hands of God an unwitting instrument: satan himself. If we read carefully the first chapter of the Book of Job, we notice something strange: When satan comes before God, it is God who first mentions Job and speaks of his holiness and blamelessness: Hast thou considered my servant Job? (Job 1:8).

It is as though God initiates what follows—as though He prompts satan toward what is to come. What happens could even be described—if the expression be allowed—as a kind of “divine provocation.” For God Himself gives satan the thought that Job must be tested, must be put to trial and tempted. Yet these trials themselves, of course, are not wrought by God, but by the devil.

And why must he be tested?

—The answer to why Job must be tested is directly related to the question of why Job must suffer. Job must suffer in order to attain spiritual perfection. That he might be found worthy of a personal encounter with God. Before his trials, Job had only heard of God—as he himself later confesses: I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee (Job 42:5).

Job sees God coming into the world to be made flesh. God does not desire Job to remain merely a devout and pious man who believes in the true Creator. God desires something far greater from Job.

We know that before his suffering, Job believed in the true God. He offered sacrifices for his sons, serving as a priest outside the priestly line, like Melchizedek of the Book of Genesis. He did not belong to the line of Aaron, nor even to the people of Israel, yet living in a pagan environment, Job fulfilled a true priestly ministry to the Most High, the God of Heaven.

But he was capable of more. And the Lord sees the potential of every man—the measure to which each may attain holiness. Job’s capacity was immense. And the Lord permitted Job to endure trials and sufferings in order that, through them, he might reach the summit of spiritual perfection—the utmost fullness of sanctity, prophecy, and the understanding of divine truth.

For it is through suffering that a man is perfected…

The Sufferings of Job—A Refining Fire

Job’s sufferings are a kind of tempering force. For this reason, God prompts Satan toward temptation. Satan, albeit unwillingly, becomes an instrument in God’s hands so that Job might attain even greater spiritual perfection.

This, incidentally, is directly related to the question of the presence and operation of evil in the world. Very often, God turns evil into good. Even the greatest moral evil—supreme evil—He makes to serve as a tool for the triumph of perfect righteousness, of perfect holiness. Take, for example, the death of the Lord Jesus Christ on the Cross. At first glance, it appears to be the ultimate triumph of evil—the world, under satanic influence, murders its own God. Yet through this, the world is saved. Evil becomes the vehicle for the salvation of the cosmos—of all mankind in Christ, who rose from the dead and redeemed the entire human race by His blood.

So also in the Book of Job, through unjust suffering, through torments that seem without cause—for Job is righteous, holy, and blameless—he attains the highest perfection possible to man in the pre-Christian era, before the redemption. And having been prepared and elevated by such suffering, he is granted the supreme gift: a direct encounter with his Creator. He speaks face to face with God. Thus, the sufferings of Job are deifying sufferings.

Many perceive suffering as punishment and ask, why do the righteous suffer, while the impious live in ease and joy?

—There is, of course, some truth in the words of Job’s friends who say that God sends suffering as correction for man’s sins. We know the proverb: “A man won’t cross himself until the thunder claps.” It speaks to this exactly. A man who does not wish to be corrected, who refuses to overcome his sin or begin to live a moral life, is sometimes corrected by God through suffering—through the misfortunes that befall him. Only through suffering does such a man come to church, realizing he cannot face his troubles by his own strength. Then his life may change—he may become a Christian.

In this sense, suffering is a form of divine punishment—but not a punishment rooted in divine wrath, but in divine love, after the biblical model: For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth (Hebrews 12:6)

The Lord never sends a cross beyond one’s strength. That too is crucial. Even Job, like any other man, had his limits of endurance, and had those been exceeded, he could not have borne his suffering. That is why God places limits on satan’s attacks against Job. The key condition is: But save his life (cf. Job 2:6)—that is, do not take his life. Also—do not take his reason. For if Job lost his sanity, he might begin to blaspheme God in madness and rage. This condition is also set by God against satan.

Thus, we see that while God permits Satan to act against man, He places strict bounds on that activity, so that the cross we bear in our trials never surpasses our true strength.

Returning to suffering as punishment: such punishment for correction may be sent to some people. And we must acknowledge and understand this honestly. For many, suffering is a direct response to sin—to their rebellion against God.

But for the righteous, as I’ve said, suffering becomes the opportunity to ascend to higher levels of spiritual life. Just as metal is tempered on the anvil by the hammer’s blows, and becomes stronger and purer, so the righteous man, enduring suffering and bearing his cross with humility and love for God, ascends from one degree of perfection to another.

The sufferings of Job led him to a personal encounter with God, to that dialogue between him and the Almighty.

That dialogue raises questions: God does not answer Job’s questions, but instead poses His own. Why? And why does He not reveal the true cause of Job’s sufferings?

St. Job the Much-Suffering St. Job the Much-Suffering —In fact, God does directly and clearly reveal the true reason for Job’s sufferings. One must understand the following: Today, we usually read the Book of Job in the nineteenth-century Russian Synodal translation. But our ancestors also knew the Church Slavonic text, which was translated from the Greek original—the Septuagint. This ancient translation, already known in the third century B.C., was used by the Greek Church Fathers who interpreted Job. The Russian Synodal version, however, was translated from the Hebrew Masoretic Text—a version that was compiled much later, by the end of the first millennium A.D. These two textual traditions differ significantly in details. [This also applies to our English language translations, such as the KJV and other modern versions of the Old Testament. Ultimately, anyone who wishes to study the Old Testament with the Orthodox understanding must go to translations of the Septuagint.—O.C.]

When the Byzantine Fathers interpreted Job, they read the Greek Septuagint, to which the Slavonic text corresponds in meaning. And if one renders into modern Russian (or English) what God says to Job at the end of their dialogue (as it appears in the Slavonic and Greek), it reads something like this: “Distort not My judgment. Dost thou think that I have dealt with thee for any other reason, but to show thee righteous?”1

This directly explains the purpose of Job’s suffering: All that befell him was permitted by God so that Job might be “shown righteous.” (Note: this meaning is not preserved in the Russian Synodal translation.)

What does it mean to be “shown righteous”? First and foremost, for the instruction of others. The story of Job teaches us how to endure suffering. But not only that. Job is a type of Christ. His righteousness prefigures the righteousness of Christ. His holy and blameless suffering is a foreshadowing of Christ’s Passion. Through Job, we come to understand the mystery of the Cross.

Finally, this teaches that only one who lives a holy, humble life and bears suffering with sanctity and devotion will be made worthy of a personal encounter with God—refined and elevated through suffering.

So God does explain to Job what has happened to him.

As for the questions God poses to Job, this is divine instruction. Through these questions, God reveals that He has fashioned the world in mystery, in wisdom, in beauty—and that man cannot comprehend the fullness of the divine plan for creation.

All of this leads Job—and us with him—to contemplate the Wisdom of God, by which and in accordance with which all things were created. The Hypostatic Wisdom of God is Christ Himself before His Incarnation, as He revealed Himself to people in the Old Testament: I wisdom dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witty inventions... Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom: I am understanding; I have strength (Proverbs 8:12, 14)

In this divine speech addressed to Job, the ancient interpreters see an allusion to the coming Christ—the Incarnate Wisdom, who created all things, arranged all things for man’s benefit, and who shall save man through the Cross and Resurrection.

Here is a veiled declaration of the eternal and all-wise plan of salvation—a plan that existed from before the foundation of the world. For God, in His omniscience, foresaw that Adam would fall, and He created the world in such a way that man could be saved—and created man himself in such a way that God could unite Himself with him through the Incarnation to defeat sin.

This divine song in the Book of Job, praising the world’s beauty and the wise order of creation, is also a hidden promise—that the Lord Himself shall come into the world and save it.

Furthermore, God speaks to Job of two terrible beasts—Behemoth and Leviathan. Both are images of satan. And the Lord shows Job that man cannot defeat them on his own. This speaks of man’s helplessness before sin, which holds sway over the human race after the Fall. It proclaims that man cannot save himself, cannot attain perfection on his own—but in God, he can.

Only in God does man find perfection, salvation, and victory over sin. And God says: I am ready to help, and I have prepared all things perfectly and wisely, that in Me thou mayest overcome sin.

Thus, the Lord answers Job’s question—by asking questions Himself. In doing so, He teaches Job the mystery of Christ and the mystery of salvation through the Cross and the victory over satan and hell.

How does the Patristic tradition explain the reason for Job’s suffering?

—The ancient Fathers see Job’s suffering as a painful, yet beautiful gift from God—one that elevates him to even greater spiritual perfection, to theosis. According to St. Gregory the Great, all that befell the sufferer was as if God were saying to him: “You were condemned in order to be crowned; you were tried to be made a wonder to all under heaven. Before your suffering, you were known only in one corner of the earth; afterward, the whole world will know about you. The dungheap where you sat will be more glorious than any royal crown. Kings will desire to behold you, your labors, and your triumphs. I have made your dungheap a paradise; I have planted upon it heavenly trees... I tried thee not to destroy you, but to crown you; not to disgrace you, but to glorify you... Though there be no sin to correct, yet there is still virtue to increase.”

And St. John Chrysostom writes: “The king upon his throne is not so glorious as Job upon his dunghill: for after the throne, there is death; but after the dunghill, the Kingdom of Heaven.”

Why did Job’s wife try to compel him to blaspheme God? Who is this woman, what was her role?

—Many Fathers note that Job’s temptations increase in intensity. First he loses his wealth, then his children—each affliction worse than the last. And the final, most subtle temptation comes from the person dearest to him—from his beloved wife. This is the most difficult trial. Through the wife, satan acts. St. John Chrysostom even suggests that satan may have appeared to Job in the likeness of his wife—as a kind of phantom. But even without accepting that idea, we must acknowledge the clear truth, that unlike Job, his wife lacked firm faith in God. She believed God was the source of her husband’s suffering; she was convinced that God was cruel and hated Job. And according to the Old Testament worldview, hatred must be met with hatred; enmity with enmity. She reasoned in a pre-Christian way.

A clear parallel may also be seen with how Adam was tempted through Eve. Eve did not urge Adam to blaspheme God, but she enticed him to break God’s commandment—that is, to step outside obedience to God. Job endures the very temptation that Adam once failed to overcome in Paradise. And this is a crucial step for Job on his journey toward encountering God.

In Paradise, Adam and Eve neither repented nor remained faithful; they lost God and were cast out of Eden. Job’s temptation also comes through his wife, yet he does not succumb—and this becomes the first step toward Paradise.

Why were the words of Job’s friends, which seem just on the surface, displeasing to God?

—There are several reasons and significant layers of meaning. Job’s friends were pious in their own way—he would not have befriended wicked men. Much of what they say is considered by the Church to be sound and even authoritative. Their words are often quoted in patristic writings and textbooks of dogmatic theology to affirm certain doctrinal truths. And they are partly correct in saying that God chastens the sinner for his sin.

But when these words are applied to Job, they become slander against a righteous man. The friends speak as though blind, insisting that Job suffers because of his sins, as all sinners do. Yet Job was righteous and holy! God Himself testifies of this before satan: There is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil (Job 1:8)

Job’s friends either cannot or will not understand that suffering may serve not only as punishment for the wicked but as a means of sanctification for the righteous. They also reduce theology to mere rationalism. They presume they know everything about God, believing themselves to be wise, experienced, serious men.

These two points—that Job’s friends speak truths, but only partial truths, and that they approach the knowledge of God with a rationalistic mindset—make them, according to St. Gregory the Dialogist, types of New Testament heretics. For heretics also speak partial truths. They embrace one aspect of truth and reject another.

Classic examples are the heresies of Nestorianism and Monophysitism. The Nestorians rightly affirm that Christ is truly man, but fail to proclaim that He is also truly God. The Monophysites rightly affirm that Christ is truly God, but they deny that He is also fully and truly man. Both err by dividing the truth and not confessing it in its fullness—and thus they fall into heresy.

Another hallmark of heresy is excessive rationalism. The extreme Arians of antiquity—Aëtius and Eunomius—tried to penetrate the mysteries of the Holy Trinity using diagrams and logical schematics. This led them to ruin.

So too, Job’s friends speak falsely of God, not because everything they say is wrong, but because they speak with a narrow and rationalistic spirit—unlike Job, whose understanding is deeper and rooted in living faith. For this reason, God does not accept their words. But let us not forget: Job offers sacrifice to the Lord on their behalf, and God forgives them for Job’s sake—for his love and intercession.

Let us now sum up our discussion. What does the life of the Much-Suffering Job teach us?

—It teaches us steadfast endurance in suffering, love for Christ, faithfulness to God, and hope and trust that even in the darkest circumstances—in apparent abandonment by God, in imprisonment, in sickness, in the death of our loved ones—the Lord loves us, the Lord is with us, always ready to help, to comfort, and to grant us boundless and everlasting blessings. For some even in this life; but above all, for all in the life to come. Job is an image of suffering, and an image of hope—hope that is born through suffering.

Hieromonk Raphael (Popov)
spoke with Petr Malkov
Translation by OrthoChristian.com

Pravoslavie.ru

5/19/2025

1 This thought doesn’t even appear at all in the KJV.—O.C.

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