Page 2  July 25, 2010
    Job use to be the most popular, respected man in his community.  People looked up to him.  They considered it a privilege if he spent time with them.  Not anymore.  His friends and relatives avoided him at all cost.  Guests who use to dine at his house, eat his food, and enjoy his hospitality considered him a stranger.  Servants who thought it an honor to work for him and promptly carried out his orders now don’t even come when he calls.  And people avoided him because of the offensive odors his diseased body was giving off.  His wife avoided him because of his bad breath.  Children would point to him and laugh at him in the streets.
   
When was the last time you treated someone like this?  You have, and I have.  I remember the first time I held the hand of someone dying from AIDS.  I had to force myself to do it.  What if some needy person comes near you and the smell hits your nostrils.  You want to back away.  There are former friends we don’t want to talk to, bosses we are glad are gone, classmates and teachers we made fun of.  We are capable of the most cruel, inhumane things.  We see a stray dog or cat, feel sorry, give it some food, maybe take it in, but not the stray human.  We shun him, avoid him, and keep the door closed.
   
And what effect does this have?  It only drives him deeper into despair.  In Isaiah we are told that those in hell will be so offensive, we will not even want to look at them.  By treating people as pariahs and offensive people, we are only condemning them more for their sins.  Job felt that way. “Though I cry, ‘I’ve been wronged!’ I get no response; though I call for help, there is no justice.  He has blocked my way so I cannot pass; he has shrouded my paths in darkness.  He has stripped me of my honor and removed the crown from my head.  He tears me down on every side till I am gone; he uproots my hope like a tree.  His anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies.  His troops advance in force; they build a siege ramp against me and encamp around my tent.”  This is about as low as Job or any human can go.  Job described himself as one totally besieged and under attack from God.
     
We will have days when we hit rock bottom, when friends and relatives and even those in the church will not be there for us.  And this alienation will be used by the devil to try and drive a wedge between us and God.  We will feel as though it is all true, that God hates us and is against us.  When was the time you bottomed out?  
    But rejoice!  Job does, because there is a huge difference between what we feel and what is the truth, between how our friends might treat us and how God will treat us.  No matter how dark it may seem to be, there is always a light.

II.  How bright it becomes.

    “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God;  I myself will see him with my own eyes—I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me!”  Friends, let me introduce you to “Goel.”  It is a Hebrew word.  Roughly translated as “kinsman-redeemer,” or simply, “redeemer,” he is your savior, one who comes and helps you when you need help.
    
We often get requests for financial help here at the church.  The first questions I ask is if they have any family and if they have contacted them first.  No, I am not trying to avoid helping this person.  Remember what the Lord’s will is, that we help out those in need, especially family for if we don’t help out family, then we are worse than unbelievers.  My brother has helped me, so has my dad, and I have helped out family, too, especially those under the same roof.
    
The Goel or redeemer was a relative God used to help people in the Old Testament.  Let’s say times got real tough.  Maybe it was due to a famine or recession or whatever.  Things got so bad that you had to sell your farm to pay off your debt.  If you couldn’t earn enough to buy it back, your Goel or redeemer would buy the farm back for you.  Maybe things got so tough that you had to sell yourself as a servant to pay your debts.  Your goel or redeemer would come and pay your debt to set you free.
  
 Finally, if someone murdered you, It was the responsibility of your goel or redeemer to find the murderer and put him to death.  No, this was not vigilantism.  If your death was an accident, the person could flee to a city of refuge and demand a trial to clear his name.  But imagine the effect this would have on you, and on your potential murderer, if he knew that he wouldn’t get away with it; the redeemer would exact justice on him.
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