“As I have observed, those who plough in evil
sow and reap a harvest of suffering” (Job 4.8).
There’s a rather mind-bending science fiction novel written by Greg Egan from the nineties called Quarantine. The setup is that one day all the stars beyond our solar system disappear from our sky because a barrier or shell suddenly manifests, blocking off our view of the universe. What we find out in the end is that the rest of the galaxy placed it there because we humans and our rather narrow view of possibilities were infecting the rest of the races out there.
It’s quite a wild tale. But it comes back to the idea in quantum physics that observations are what determine reality. That, at a quantum level, when two distinct possibilities exist both of them are in the process of happening until someone views them. In other words, anything is possible until someone makes an observation.
Which brings us to Eliphaz’s words above. This is, like last week, part of his opening argument, his rebuttal to Job’s assertion of his innocence. And it rests upon the wisdom of the Trio and how they understand the world. This, Eliphaz says, is what I have observed about the world.
Seeing is believing, he reminds us. Being an older and wiser man, he has seen sunrises and sunsets and what’s been illuminated in the hours between. And his own eyes have shown him that there’s only one possibility to what’s happening here, and that is the reality that bad things don’t happen to good people. If you find yourself suffering, there’s some wrongdoing in your life for which you’ve yet to repent. That’s just how the world works.
What our narrator in the novel Quarantine learns is that humans have this unevolved part of our minds that can’t accept more than one possibility; it’s what is enabling us to, basically, control the rest of the universe. Despite what every other world might be able to understand, we humans are making everything into one thing or another.
It’s not a conscious intention for the characters of the novel any more than it is for Eliphaz. He isn’t there to try and control Job’s reality. He’s just trying to share his hard-won wisdom. He wants to help. And he can’t accept that there’s more than one possibility in what he’s seeing. I get it. It’s difficult to do. Accepting this idea means giving up some of the control I want to have over the universe. If anything is possible, then what kind of handle do I have on reality?
But that’s part of the story here, isn’t it? Neither Job nor Eliphaz or me have any ability to control the world around us, no matter how much we may assert our observations of what is and what isn’t. It’s scary. It leaves me feeling like the solid ground beneath my feet may actually be sand, and the bright daylight is night.
Of course, it also challenges me to imagine what might be possible.
Holy One, help me be willing to be uncertain so I might imagine what’s possible.