Job CCCXIV

 Job 35:9-16, “Because of the multitude of oppressions they cry out; they cry out for help because of the arm of the mighty. But no one says, ‘Where is God my Maker, who gives songs in the night, who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth, and makes us wiser than the birds of heaven?’ There they cry out, but He does not answer, because of the pride of evil men. Surely God will not listen to empty talk, nor will the Almighty regard it. Although you say you do not see Him, yet justice is before Him, and you must wait for Him. And now, because He has not punished in His anger, nor taken much notice of folly, therefore Job opens his mouth in vain; he multiplies words without knowledge.”

The only thing more off-putting than condescending, sanctimonious self-importance is when you couple them with an inflated ego that thinks it not only knows everything, but the reason for everything. Sprinkle in the name of God liberally, not because you are deferring to Him in the matter at hand, but using His name as validation of the rightness of your position, and it becomes difficult, if not outright impossible, to see the individual as likable.

My dad was one of the most gracious people I’ve ever known. He would extend the benefit of the doubt and try to see the good in someone even when scraping the bottom of the barrel and finding little, if any, redeeming qualities. Even the man who once commented that an individual trying to pass himself off as a Bible scholar who obviously knew nothing of what Scripture says, at least had straight teeth, had his limits.

That moment came shortly after my dad became pastor of the Messiah church, the church built next to the orphanage so the children would have a place to attend regular services, since there was no such church in that part of the city. Believers still gather, fellowship, and worship to this day, and it has grown over the years, but back then, it was only a couple of hundred people, plus the children and the orphanage staff.

One day, my dad got a call from another pastor in a different region of the country asking if we would host an evangelist from England and let him speak in our church. The pastor, whom my dad knew well enough, vouched for the preacher, and my dad agreed, slotting him to speak at a Sunday morning service.

My dad was informed that the evangelist would be in touch to hammer out the details, and a few days later, true to his word, he called. Anyone who knew my dad can attest that he was a jovial and gregarious man. He was always smiling, always had something nice to say, was always polite to a fault, and never went out of his way to drone on about his bona fides. Not so with this individual. After giving his name and asking if this was the pastor of the church he was to minister at the following month, he proceeded to regale my dad with all the places he’d preached, and once that was done, he went on to itemize his list of demands.

He needed three hotel rooms for himself and his entourage, nothing primitive, preferably something with at least three stars, a car to shuttle them from the hotel to the church and back since they would be arriving by train, and if the church was planning on any sort of post-service meal, there were a handful of dietary restrictions we should make the cooks aware of. By dietary restrictions, he did not mean allergies, but rather trivial things like a fresh fruit plate instead of a fruit salad, individual rolls instead of sliced bread, and so on.

My dad had planned to put him up in a hotel, although finding one with multiple stars in the area is a big ask, so that didn’t bother him overly much. He likewise understood that people have their preferences. Even though one could question why you would insist on being an unnecessary burden on a church body you were supposedly coming to serve by demanding things that were not, culturally speaking, normal fare as far as food goes, that didn’t push him over the edge either; what did it was the man’s insistence on being addressed by his title, rather than his name, if any of the congregants wanted to engage him in conversation.

“If any of the people want to approach me after my talk, please have them address me as Evangelist Rick,” were his exact words. Not brother Rick, but specifically evangelist Rick, as though that carried a greater weight than being called a brother.

That was when my dad’s inscrutable niceness cracked. Although he was never quite as barbed or acidic as yours truly can be, and often is, my dad was no lightweight. In the calmest voice he could muster, in his heavily accented English, my dad said, “Let me stop you there. I get the feeling we lowly folk are not deserving of being graced with your presence, sir. Perhaps you need a bigger venue to prove that you can walk on water. Have a good day.”

As I was reading Elihu’s words to Job, the same smug, condescending, entitled spirit stood out, reminding me of this event. If all one ever does is look down on everyone else, demanding respect without earning it, demanding to be heard even though what they have to say is banal and lacking in insight, it’s not because they are spiritually superior; they just think themselves to be.

It wasn’t Job and Elihu that God looked upon and deemed blameless and upright. There was only one whom God singled out: Job. Yet Elihu, in his hubris, saw himself as more righteous by far than Job, insisting that he knew the mind of God, His purpose, and His reason behind why Job was in the state he was in.

If you have to tear someone down to build yourself up, that tells me everything I need to know both about your character and your level of spiritual maturity.     

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Posted on 29 June 2026 | 11:29 am