Be Right III

Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.

 - From Job 42

So here's Job, a highly respected man for his times. He was wealthy beyond measure, and had a large, close, and happy family. He was held in high esteem by his friends. He was a leader. 

We can imagine him being an elder in his church. A local elected official. Everybody always came around to him for donation to this or that charity. He was Grand Marshall of the local parade, more than once. 

And then, when the most horrible of fortunes befell him: the destruction of his property and holding, the death of his children and grandchildren, the liquidation of everything, and then the onset of a debilitating disease, he suddenly found himself with fewer friends, and utter sadness. 

He had enough positive energy to last a while, but when it went on and on, he became bitter towards God. His past had made him accustomed to being right all the time. Nobody ever questioned Job's judgment (aren't rich people always right?). He even felt like God must really think highly of him . . . perhaps he had a sort of pipeline to the Lord's throne, that made him a bastion of wisdom and knowledge. 

He was confident, in his protestations to the Lord, that he could persuade and manipulate God into restoring his fortune. He wanted an apology from God. He want God to respond to Job's own bidding!

In the end of the long saga of Job, we find him realizing how little he did know. He had a lot of knowledge, and a lot of good will. But he was lacking perspective and humility. Job was human and finite. He was mortal. And humanity plus mortal equals - you don't know it all. 

The early years of the Millennial Era finds humanity trusting Science for an awful lot. But do we really think Science has all the knowledge of the ages. Do we really believe that, in one hundred years (let alone a thousand) that 21st Century Science will be regarded as wise beyond its years? There are assumptions we have made, and conclusions in which we are convinced . . . that our great-great grandchildren will mock. There are progressive viewpoints today, that will be considered disgusting, two centuries from now. 

And we have hurt our case for our posterity, by being so hatefully dismissive or previous generations. 

We can be right. We can be always right. But it has to start with being humble. And it proceeds under the presumption that other people, with other views, may have a piece of truth that we are lacking. 

Be right.