Books for the Belly of the Whale

As the author of a book on Job, I am occasionally expected to know something about suffering. Unfortunately, I don’t know very much. And I especially don’t know things like, “why do people have to suffer?” or “what does suffering mean?” In fact, the only important thing that I know about suffering is that it really, really sucks. And when it happens to me or to people I love, I want it to stop happening as soon as possible.

This accounts for my basic rule for taking medicine: “never take anything unless something hurts.” When I can relieve physical or psychological anguish by taking a pill, I thank God for creating a universe that has pills in it. People who say stuff like, “headaches are not caused by a deficiency of aspirin” are missing the point. I don’t care why my head hurts; I care how I can make it stop.

When it comes to emotional and existential suffering, the remedies have to be different, but the philosophy behind the treatment is the same: the goal is not to turn my suffering into beauty, truth, or poetry. The goal is to turn my suffering into not suffering.

This has actually been an issue for me for much of the past three months, as, along with the rest of the world, I have adapted to the new normal of the COVID-19 Pandemic. Yes, I have been trapped in my house, but, thankfully, it is a house with a lot of books. And because…