Sympathy for the Author

Pleased to meet you. Will you guess my name?

I am a man of wealth and faith.

God’s servant, Satan, millennia before his failed coup, picks me for a game.

He convinces God that if my blessings are gone, I will curse his name.

Satan may test me, but not tempt me or go outside the rules of God’s frame.

I know nothing of what was arranged.

I lose my wealth and children, and sores on my body bring great pain.

What is confusing is that my friends all turn away.

I know I must have sinned to deserve such strain.

I cannot figure out what I did, so I ask God to refrain.

God says the universe is bigger than the moral accounting you obtain.

Justice and meaning cannot be reduced to reward and shame.

I say, “I spoke of things I cannot explain.”

God decides his favor, I will regain.

My sores vanish, and I have new children and greater fame.

I am freed by my honesty with God, not because I was tame.

After all, aren’t we all the same?

Ah yeah ….. a bit profane!

So, what’s confusing you is the nature of my game.

It is Hell on Earth, where you read bad things that happen to people of good acclaim.

Please allow me to introduce myself. Job is my name.