Our own modern Job

Chuck, an outgoing, well-rounded giant of a man, talented in every aspect of life, was an avid conversationalist. I seldom had a short talk with Chuck, unless we were chatting on the phone. He yearned to be with a person, rather than just converse over the wire. His many stories, riddled with striking detail and amazing developments, seemed to always carry a message of holiness or some spiritual awakening.

Like Job, Chuck never questioned God’s authority. 

Chuck's Reprieve & Reward: "You got that right"

By John Pearring


http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/100320.cfm
Job 42:1-3, 5-6, 12-17
Luke 10:17-24


Is it reward or a just reprieve as the final point of Job? Does Job’s faithfulness to God, in both repentance and submission of will, get rewarded? Or, are the miseries of life simply reprieved, a cancellation of due punishment? I believe it’s a lot of both.

The scripture on Job this past Saturday, chapter 42, painfully reminded me of a good friend who recently died, suffering much like Job through arduous, unwanted, and unfair illnesses in his final years. Pondering on that painful study of Job, though, I saw into a grace and faithfulness which Chuck so remarkably represented. His final days are almost a mimic of Job.

Chuck died of complications from more than a handful of ailments on August 15 at the age of 88. Depending on your own age, he had a full run, or he was taken too soon. That’s something that Chuck would’ve said.

We haven’t been able to have a service for Chuck due to the shutdown of gatherings endemic with a pandemic. I was just notified, though, that finally, on November 18, we’re having a rescheduled rosary and Mass beginning at 5:30 at Our Lady of the Woods. A family and friend’s celebration of life will also take place near Florissant, CO on October 10, where his ashes will be interned on his daughter’s mountain property that Chuck loved so much. You can get further details from his son David August if you'd like to attend.

Job, laid out with boils head to toe, had the privilege of being visited by friends in his struggle with debilitating and near-fatal misery. Chuck August, however, was not surrounded by his friends. This is the COVID era. The time where we die alone. After 10 days in the hospital with terminal diagnosis, he returned home for 10 more days of hospice under the 24x7 care of his son and daughter-in-law, and the assistance of special caregiver, Regina Montesano.

Chuck, an outgoing, well-rounded giant of a man, talented in every aspect of life, was an avid conversationalist. I seldom had a short talk with Chuck, unless we were chatting on the phone. He yearned to be with a person rather than just converse over the wire. His many stories, riddled with striking detail and amazing developments, seemed to always carry a message of holiness or some spiritual awakening.

Like Job, Chuck never questioned God’s authority. Everything has a purpose he would remind us, even when nothing seemed to make any sense. I remember him saying once, in his slow seal-this-to-your-memory way, “Nothing surprises God. Nothing gets by him. Everything happens because he allows it. If you know that, nothing can shake you.”  

If you ever said anything that made spiritual sense, Chuck would add right away, “You got that right.”

“Dad showed the outward evidence of peace,” when he died, his son Dave told me. Only David, his wife, and his sister Carrie were able to interact with their Father over the last few weeks of life. HIs other three children, and the surviving members of 18 grandchildren and 27 great-grandchildren could reach out only by phone. Friends, all of us, were cut off too.

Job also did not get to be around the full breadth of his kin. Everyone had been killed in one catastrophe or another. The COVID catastrophe shut out Chuck’s family, and friends. Their loneliness, though, was filled with the constant presence of God. Though painful and unfortunate, the miserable time prepared both for a closer intimacy with their creator.

I’m almost positive that Chuck spoke Job’s specific admonition in his confession, probably word for word. I can hear Chuck say. “I know you can do everything. And I know there’s nothing you can’t do.”

There was a John Wayne way about Chuck in both his phrasing and his actual bigger than life personality and presence. 

Yet, the final part of Job’s story is also Chuck’s story. Scholars argue over whether the final chapter of the Book of Job typifies our heavenly reward, or is a crude deus ex machina, an emotional, magical reprieve from the tragedy of the story. 

Either way, reward or reprieve, the scripture’s intention has been conclusive. God’s relationship to us does not end in misery when we trust him and remain faithful. Whatever happens, and however it presents itself, God’s promise of eternal life is one of joy. We’re likely and assuredly united with family and friends. Maybe even possessions and responsibilities. Most certainly, glories not yet known.

(Chuck's obit can be found here, and his famous chili recipe can be found here!)

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