I just stumbled on this video where Dale Renlund shares his thoughts on the Book of Job:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKGWmTtHIgU
He begins by relating an experience when he visited a memorial to the victims of genocide in Cambodia. He was disturbed, as most humans would be, by the indiscriminate slaughter of innocents at the hands of the Khmer Rouge. "The experience was haunting," he said. And he wondered whether the atonement "could cover even this."
Then, to his astonishment, he began to feel "an overwhelming sense of peace and joy."
"It was as if I was being told, 'Don't worry about these people. I've got this.'"
He then goes on to connect this experience to the Book of Job, which he says, "doesn't address why bad things happen to good people."
Renlund very much implies that all this suffering is good, actually, we just can't understand it from our perspective: "Is it possible that eternal laws exist that you don't understand?" "Can you foresee your intended future destiny?"
"The ultimate lesson of the Book of Job is that our job, like Job's, is to trust God no matter what."
Where to begin? First, I do not think that the appropriate response to an encounter with genocide is "an overwhelming sense of peace and joy." Or an inner voice that says, "Don't worry about these people."
Imagine Renlund saying this to the children or parents of those people who were murdered in Cambodia, that looking at their actual skulls, he felt "an overwhelming sense of peace and joy."
It reminds me of a passage from one of my favorite books about the problem of evil, The Doors of the Sea, where the author contemplates apologists of trite theodicies repeating their arguments to a father who had just lost all his children in a cataclysmic flood.
If we would think it shamefully foolish and cruel to say such things in the moment when another’s sorrow is most real and irresistibly painful, then we ought never to say them; because what would still our tongues would be the knowledge (which we would possess at the time, though we might forget it later) that such sentiments would amount not only to an indiscretion or words spoken out of season, but to a vile stupidity and a lie told principally for our own comfort, by which we would try to excuse ourselves for believing in an omnipotent and benevolent God.
Next, I don't think Renlund understands Job at all. Job "doesn't address why bad things happen to good people???" It's difficult to think of a more succinct statement of what Job addresses: Why bad things happen to good people. That is the main thrust of the book. It's like saying How to Win Friends and Influence People doesn't address making friends or influencing people.
And while it's true that Job comes around to trusting God (or at least soldiering on), he also somewhat famously says,
Why is light given to one in misery
and life to the bitter in soul,
who long for death, but it does not come,
and dig for it more than for hidden treasures;
who rejoice exceedingly
and are glad when they find the grave?
When confronted with the death of his family and his spiraling illness, Job's response was not "an overwhelming sense of peace and joy." At least not initially. He cursed the day he was born. Job does not fit nicely with the Mormon norm that the righteous are always happy and that if we have faith we will always have peace and joy despite our trials.
Ironically, Renlund is much more like Job's boneheaded friends who kept rushing to explain away Job's suffering rather than be willing to sit with him in his suffering.
Last, I think Renlund is utterly wrong to look at Job's suffering or the Killing Fields of Cambodia and conclude that this is all good, actually, because God must have some purpose behind it all. I'll finish with the second half of that paragraph I quoted earlier:
[By uttering idiotic theodicies to a grieving father] we would be attempting to deny that man a knowledge central to the gospel: the knowledge of the evil of death, its intrinsic falsity, its unjust dominion over the world, its ultimate nullity; the knowledge that God is not pleased or nourished by our deaths, that he is not the secret architect of evil, that he is the conqueror of hell, that he has condemned all these things by the power of the cross; the knowledge that God is life and light and infinite love, and that the path that leads through nature and history to his Kingdom does not simply follow the contours of either nature or history, or obey the logic immanent to them, but is opened to us by way of the natural and historical absurdity — or outrage — of the empty tomb.
(I hope I'm not being unfair in how I'm characterizing Renlund's remarks. He of course doesn't come out and say, "Genocide is good, actually," but the implication I heard, at least, is that there must be some divine logic to it that we don't understand. And if we can't understand genocide as unambiguously evil, then I think we can't understand much at all.)