Robert J. A. Gilbert  

I should point out, before I am accused of “re-writing God’s Word”, that Job is one of the most controversial books of the Old Testament. Biblical scholars may argue that it is an ancient piece of literature originating somewhere in the Middle East, but the style of literature is spot-on with the Classical Greek style of written dialogues and tragic plays.

Job is also one sun-pulling chariot away from several other books that have since been removed from Judeo-Christian canon due to being obviously fictional in their description of God and the Heavens. The god of Job is clearly contrived to serve as a “god in the machine”—a common mechanism also found in Classical Greek literature. Despite this obvious mechanism, many readers have used this description to serve as their own vision of what God looks like (and, consequently, what God is limited to in terms of space, time, and presence).

That being said, I have spent a great many years arguing the point of Job to fellow Christians who claim to have read it, but very obviously show their lack of understanding. For that purpose, I have re-written the ending with a more concise description of the truth.

* * *

Up in Heaven, “Jehovah” listened intently to Job’s words of praise. At last, he turned to Satan, who had been sitting beside him, and handed him twenty bucks. “Okay,” he said, “the bet’s off. You win.”

Satan replied, “But Job has not cursed your name. Through all of this, he continues to praise you.”

Old Jove repeated some of the praises Job had said about him “Suspending the Earth over nothing? Marking out the horizon on the face of the waters?” He shook his head. “He is praising the Creator of the Universe, and…that is not me.” Seeing Satan raise an eyebrow, the Zeus wanna-be explained, “To be honest, I’m just another petty demon-god up here on Mt. Olympus putting on a show to try to get people to worship me.”

“A lot of good that did you,” Satan said, pointing to Eliphaz and his three friends. “These guys are now afraid of you. They think you’re just a god who punishes everybody who makes you mad.”

Jehovah hung his shoulders wearily. “I suppose I could go down there and tell them all that I numbered the stars and built the mighty Behemoth from the DNA up, but I’d just be making myself more of a liar.”

Satan shook his head and handed the twenty bucks back to Old Jove. “I’ll be honest, too. This was never about the bet.”

“It wasn’t?” Jehovah exclaimed, showing an unnaturally high level of surprise for his supposedly immortal nature.

“Nope,” Satan confessed. Pointing to Job, he explained, “Didn’t you notice how much influence that guy had over his friends because of his success and good health? They listened to him, considered him a role model, and all of them worshiped and revered You because of Job’s example. Now look at them. They have not only turned on him, but they will never again follow his example or take his word seriously. They are convinced that he is hiding a secret sin, and not even your intervention will change their opinion now that I’ve made sure it has been so deeply rooted in pride. He’s done as a role model.”

Cackling victoriously, Satan casually tossed the bet money at the astonished Jehovah and saw himself down off the mountain. As he passed through the imitation-pearl gates, he could be heard to say, “As long as there are fools down there who think like that, this trick will never get old.”