Eventide & Altar

Job says it at the worst hour of his life. His friends are hounding him. He believes the hand of God has struck him. From inside all of that he says, "I know that my Vindicator lives." He does not say it because he feels better. He says it because it is the one thing left that is solid.

You have stood at more graves than you can count. This reading has probably been read at some of them. It is usually heard as comfort, and it is. It is also a hard sentence, spoken by a man who has not yet been answered.

Job claims something specific. My own eyes, not another's, shall behold him. He does not want a report from someone else. He wants to see for himself. He also says from my flesh. He expects to have a body. Whatever your own body is carrying tonight, Job expects it to be part of what stands there.

The psalm gives the same hope in plainer words. I believe that I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Some of that seeing may still happen here. Some may wait until the end. The Church asks you to hold both.

Job does not know how his story ends. The book has not told him yet. He speaks the sentence anyway, and the sentence outlasts the argument he was in. Most of what has held you up over the years was probably said the same way, before the ending was known.

The Luminous Mysteries tonight, since it is Thursday. Offer the fourth mystery, the Transfiguration, for everyone you have loved who saw light on a mountain and still had to walk back down.

• For the grace to keep saying "I know" when we cannot yet see, we pray to the Lord.
• For everyone whose friends have explained too much and comforted too little, we pray to the Lord.
• For all who have died, that their own eyes now behold him, we pray to the Lord.

Say Job's sentence out loud once before you sleep: "I know that my Vindicator lives." Then say the name of one person you believe is with him now.