What is Truth?
Book of Job
MHA Reacts to the Bible
The morning began as the students of Classes 1-A and 1-B filed into the facility's North Wing, their footsteps echoing in the pristine halls that mirrored their familiar classrooms at UA. It was surreal; the desks, the whiteboards, even the sunlight streaming through the windows—everything was designed to ease the transition back into academic life. Yet, the context was undeniably different.
Aizawa stood at the front of his classroom, his signature sleep-deprived look intact. "Sit down," he said in his usual monotone voice, and the class obeyed, albeit with a few murmurs of protest.
Yamada's room across the hall had a livelier atmosphere, with his booming voice echoing as he welcomed his group. "Alright, class! Let's dive into some English class. But first, roll call! Loud and proud, people!"
Meanwhile, Kayama's classroom exuded a sense of calm authority. She stood by the whiteboard, her warm smile disarming even the most reluctant students. "Good morning, everyone. Let's start by reviewing yesterday's lesson before we move on to something new."
For the remaining subjects not covered by the teachers, sleek humanoid robots facilitated the lessons. Their voices were smooth, their instructions precise, and their efficiency unparalleled. While some students found the robotic teachers unsettling, others marveled at their technological prowess.
By the time 1 PM rolled around, the students were more than ready for their lunch break. They gathered in the cafeteria, some energized, others drained.
As the clock struck 2 PM, they filed into the theatre. Catalyst stood at the front of the room, his celestial robe catching the light, while Otto stood to his side, his glowing "heart core" faintly pulsing.
"Welcome back, students," Catalyst greeted, his voice warm and resonant. "I trust your morning classes were productive?"
A murmur of agreement spread through the room, though some responses were less enthusiastic than others.
Otto stepped forward, a hint of humor in his tone. "And let's give a big hand to our trusty robot assistants for collecting those assignments without any hiccups. They're the real MVPs."
A few students chuckled and clapped, lightening the mood.
"Before we proceed," Catalyst continued, "I want to thank you all for completing the three-question handout we distributed yesterday. Your responses were insightful and, in some cases, quite thought-provoking."
He held up a few papers, the faint glow from his hand illuminating the handwritten notes. "I'd like to share some anonymous excerpts from your responses. Each of you brought something unique to these questions, and I think they deserve to be highlighted."
The room grew quiet, some students becoming nervous of their responses being read.
"One response to the first question stood out: 'To be made in the Image of God means carrying the responsibility to reflect His attributes. It's not about physical appearance but about how we live and the choices we make.'" Catalyst looked up, his kind gaze sweeping the room. "This captures a profound truth. Being made in God's image is less about our form and more about our capacity to embody His essence through our actions and intentions."
Midoriya's face lit up slightly from the positive words for his answer, though he said nothing.
Catalyst continued, "Another response emphasized creativity and morality, stating, 'Being made in God's image means we are creators and moral agents, entrusted with the ability to bring goodness into the world.'" He smiled gently. "Such insight shows an understanding of the privilege and challenge that come with this truth."
Yaoyorozu blushed slightly, hinting that it was her answer.
Moving to the second question, Catalyst's tone grew more reflective. "This question, 'What was Adam and Eve's sin?' prompted some deep thought. One response said, 'It wasn't just about eating the fruit. It was about rejecting God's authority and trying to define good and evil for themselves.'" He nodded. "Exactly. Their act of defiance was rooted in a desire for autonomy, a desire that often leads us astray."
Otto held up another sheet. "Here's one that takes it a step further: 'Their sin was rooted in pride. They wanted to be like God, but in doing so, they distanced themselves from Him and from the harmony they were created to enjoy.'"
Shiozaki's serene expression hinted that this might have been her answer. Catalyst's voice softened as he added, "Understanding this helps us see how our own pride can disrupt our relationships and our purpose."
Finally, Catalyst addressed the third question. "Reconciliation and forgiveness. A vital topic. One response noted, 'Forgiveness is about letting go of hurt, not just for the sake of the person who hurt you but for your own peace and growth.'"
He paused, letting the words sink in. "How true. Forgiveness heals not just the relationship but the heart of the one who forgives."
Otto chimed in with a smirk. "And this one's blunt but brilliant: 'It's about fixing what you break. Takes guts.'"
Bakugo's slight shift in posture didn't go unnoticed by his peers.
Catalyst concluded, "Each of you approached these questions with sincerity and depth. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. These reflections not only deepen your understanding but also enrich our journey together."
Otto clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and precise. "Alright, kiddos, let's switch gears. Today, we're diving into something a bit different: the story of Job."
Catalyst stepped forward, his expression turning somber yet resolute. "Job's story is one of profound suffering, unwavering faith, and ultimate redemption. It challenges us to grapple with questions about the nature of justice, the purpose of pain, and the relationship between humanity and the divine."
Otto interjected, his tone more conversational. "To set the stage, let's talk about when and where Job's story takes place. Historically, this narrative unfolds after Jacob's death, during the time when his descendants were living in Egypt. However, the setting of Job is not in Egypt but in the land of Uz—a region often associated with the areas east of Canaan. Think of it as a crossroads of ancient cultures, where different beliefs and ideas converged."
The room fell silent, the weight of their words settling over the students.
"Before we begin," Catalyst said, "I want you to consider this question: What would you do if everything you valued was taken from you? How would you respond?"
The students exchanged uncertain glances. For a moment, no one spoke, until Todoroki quietly said, "I think it would depend on whether I had something… someone… to hold on to."
Catalyst nodded. "An honest answer. And one we'll explore further as we delve into Job's journey. Now, let us begin."
The lights dimmed, and the screen at the front of the theatre came to life.
Job 1:1-5 - Intro to Job
The screen flickered to life, casting a warm glow over the room. The scene opened to a serene expanse of fertile land, rolling hills blanketed in lush greenery under a golden sun. The sound of bleating sheep and the occasional lowing of oxen filled the air, painting a picture of prosperity and peace. Small tents and stone houses dotted the landscape, with figures bustling about, tending to their daily tasks. Catalyst began his narration, his tone both solemn and inviting.
"In the land of Uz," Catalyst began, "there lived a man named Job. A man whose life was marked by both extraordinary blessings and unimaginable trials. The story of Job begins here, in a time and place where wealth was measured in livestock and family, and faith was the cornerstone of one's identity."
The camera panned across the bustling homestead, zeroing in on a tall, weathered man with a strong yet kind face. His clothes were simple but well-made, his posture upright and confident as he greeted workers and oversaw the activities of the day.
Catalyst continued, "Job was blameless and upright, a man who feared God and shunned evil. His life was a testament to faith and integrity."
The scene shifted to Job walking among his herds, pausing to examine a newborn lamb. He smiled, lifting it gently in his arms and calling over one of his shepherds with a quiet word of instruction.
"Job's wealth was unmatched in his time. He owned seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred donkeys. He had many servants, a vast household, and influence that stretched far and wide. Yet, his wealth did not define him. What set Job apart was his unwavering devotion to the Creator."
The camera followed Job as he entered his home. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. Children's laughter echoed through the halls as Job's ten children—ranging in age from young adults in their early twenties to small children—gathered for a meal. The older siblings helped the younger ones to their seats, their camaraderie evident in the way they teased and encouraged one another. The table was laden with food, a vibrant tapestry of family life.
Job stood in the doorway, his expression softening as he observed the scene. His eldest son, a confident young man, poured drinks for his siblings, while his youngest daughter giggled as her older sister gently braided her hair. The warmth and unity of the family filled the room, a testament to the love and guidance Job had instilled in them.
Catalyst's voice lowered, almost as if he were sharing a sacred secret. "Job's family was his greatest treasure. His sons and daughters were known for their love and unity, often gathering to celebrate and feast together. Yet, Job never took these blessings for granted."
The screen shifted to a quiet, predawn scene. Job knelt on a simple prayer mat outside his home, the first rays of sunlight casting a golden hue over him. His eyes were closed, his hands lifted in supplication. Nearby, a small altar bore the remnants of offerings, wisps of smoke curling upward into the morning air.
"After each feast," Catalyst narrated, "Job would rise early in the morning to offer sacrifices for each of his children regularly."
The camera lingered on Job's face, capturing the lines of worry and devotion etched into his features. "Lord," he prayed, "if any or all of my children have sinned and cursed in their hearts, please forgive them."
"Job's prayers were not just rituals; they were acts of intercession, born out of a deep love for his family and an abiding faith in God's mercy."
The scene then transitioned to a wider view of his property, with the morning light spreading across the land, bathing it in a serene glow. Workers were already tending to the animals, and the household hummed with activity.
The screen showed Job walking through his fields again, stopping to greet a group of laborers who bowed their heads respectfully. Job placed a reassuring hand on one man's shoulder, speaking words of encouragement before continuing on his way.
Otto's voice chimed in, his tone curious and reflective. "You know, it's easy to look at a life like Job's and think, 'This guy's got it all together.' He's got wealth, a loving family, respect from his community. But what's interesting is that Job never let those things distract him from what mattered most—his faith."
Catalyst's voice took on a contemplative tone. "Job's story begins in abundance. His life was one of harmony, prosperity, and devotion. But this is not just a story of blessings; it is a story that probes the depths of human suffering and the resilience of faith. As we continue, remember these moments of peace and prosperity. They are the foundation upon which Job's trials will build."
The scene faded to black, leaving the students in the theater with a moment of silence to absorb the imagery and Catalyst's words.
Job 1:6-12 - Satan Challenges Job's Faith
The screen faded from the serene pastures of Uz to a realm unlike anything the students had seen before. Catalyst's voice returned, steady and reverent, guiding them into the next part of Job's story.
"We now shift from the earth to the heavens," Catalyst began.
The screen brightened, revealing a majestic throne encircled by a shimmering rainbow of emerald light. The air itself seemed alive, vibrating with a celestial hum. The throne was set atop a sea of glass, clear as crystal, reflecting the brilliance of the One who sat upon it. Around the throne, flashes of lightning streaked through the golden light, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder.
From the throne came a voice, deep and resounding, like the rolling of mighty waves. Though words had not yet been spoken, its power was evident, commanding awe and reverence.
"This is the throne of the High One Himself," Catalyst narrated softly.
The students leaned forward as the camera focused on the throne's surroundings. Encircling it were twenty-four smaller thrones, each occupied by figures robed in white with crowns of gold. Beyond them, countless souls stood, their presence radiant and peaceful. The atmosphere pulsed with a holiness that seemed almost tangible, overwhelming in its majesty.
From behind the throne, great cherubim emerged, their wings covered in countless eyes, each wing shimmering with an unearthly light. Their voices rose in perfect harmony, chanting, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come!" The words echoed endlessly, each repetition reverberating through the realm.
Shiozaki gasped audibly, her hands clasping tightly in front of her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes as she whispered, "This… this is Heaven. The holiness here is beyond words."
Uraraka, seated nearby, could only nod, her expression a mixture of awe and reverence. "It's… beautiful. But it feels so much more than that. It's like it's alive."
Kaminari leaned back slightly, his mouth slightly agape. "I thought I had an idea of what Heaven might look like," he said, his voice barely audible. "I was way off."
In the background, angelic voices lifted in song, their melody weaving through the thunder and the chant of the cherubim. Each note seemed to carry the weight of eternity, resonating deeply within the hearts of the students. The song was unlike any earthly music they had ever heard, its harmonies stirring emotions they could not name.
Midoriya's pencil trembled in his hand as he tried to capture what he was seeing in his notebook. "There are no words for this," he muttered, his green eyes wide with wonder. "No words at all."
"It's humbling," Yaoyorozu added, her voice soft. She had folded her hands in her lap, her usual composure giving way to a quiet reverence. "To think we are allowed even a glimpse of this…"
Bakugo, though typically brash, seemed subdued. His brows furrowed as he stared intently at the screen. "It's loud," he muttered, "but not in an annoying way. It's… strong."
Catalyst's voice broke through the stunned silence of the students. "The glory of Heaven is not merely a visual splendor; it is the presence of the Almighty. The One who sits upon the throne is the source of all life, all light, and all that is good. This is a place where holiness permeates everything, where worship is as natural as breathing."
The camera focused again on the One seated on the throne, though His full form was obscured by the radiant light surrounding Him. Flashes of fire and lightning illuminated the scene, each one revealing a glimpse of unapproachable majesty. The students could barely hold their gaze on the screen, overwhelmed by the intensity.
"It's… it's too much," Jirou said quietly, her hand clutching the fabric of her sleeve. "I can barely look at it."
"That's because we're seeing the holiness of God," Shiozaki replied, her voice trembling. "Even this glimpse is beyond us. Imagine… imagine what it would be like to truly stand in His presence."
Above the throne, a rainbow like an emerald encircled the scene, its hues shifting subtly, almost as if alive. The cherubim continued their chant, their voices blending seamlessly with the angelic song. Every detail of the scene seemed designed to reflect the holiness and glory of the One who reigned.
Otto's voice chimed in, breaking the tension with a touch of levity. "You know, for all our imagination, nothing we come up with could match this. Talk about mind-blowing."
A few students chuckled nervously, their awe undiminished but slightly softened by Otto's humor.
Catalyst continued, his tone reverent. "Heaven is not a place we can fully comprehend, but through moments like this, we are given a glimpse of what awaits beyond. It is a reminder of the holiness of God and the eternal hope of those who trust in Him."
The screen lingered on the throne for a moment longer, the brilliance of the scene filling the theater with a profound sense of peace and awe. The students sat in silence, absorbing the magnitude of what they had witnessed, their hearts and minds forever changed by the glimpse of Heaven.
Some of the students gasped as the camera panned over a few familiar faces.
"Are those…" Midoriya began, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Noah," Uraraka said softly, pointing at the screen. "And Abraham. Isaac. Jacob. They're all here."
"The patriarchs," Yaoyorozu murmured, her hand over her heart. "It's incredible."
Catalyst's voice resumed, gentle but firm. "Not just them. These are all of the faithful who trusted in God, the saints who now dwell in His presence. Their lives on earth may have ended, but their communion with God continues eternally."
Noah stood with his hands folded, his face serene but strong, a symbol of faith enduring through judgment. Beside him was Abraham, whose posture exuded quiet confidence, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the throne. Isaac and Jacob were there as well, their expressions a mixture of awe and joy.
As the camera moved closer to the throne, the light surrounding it intensified, and a voice like thunder rolled forth. The students felt the power of the voice even through the screen, as though the words carried the weight of creation itself.
"Who among you comes before Me today?" the voice of God resounded, filling the space with majesty.
From the back of the gathering, a serpentine figure slithered forward. It was Satan, his form twisted and grotesque. His body shimmered with scales that reflected an unnatural light, his serpentine tail curling and uncurling as he moved. His eyes glowed with malice, and his forked tongue flicked as he approached the throne.
"Him again," Bakugo muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with irritation.
"What's he doing here?" Iida asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I thought heaven was supposed to be… safe."
The scene continued as Satan slithered before the throne, bowing low in a mockery of respect. His voice was smooth but laced with venom. "I have come from roaming the earth," he hissed, "walking back and forth on it."
Satan straightened slightly, his forked tongue flicking as his voice dripped with disdain. "I have seen them all, High One. Among all the earth, none come close to Your standard. They are weak, corrupt, and lacking. And those here—" he gestured mockingly to the sons of God gathered before the throne—"are no better. Their failures in life disqualify them from standing in this holy place."
A murmur rippled through the heavenly assembly, the accusation hanging heavily in the air. The students watching the scene tensed, their unease palpable.
Shiozaki clasped her hands tightly, her face stricken. "How dare he?" she whispered.
God's voice thundered in reply, its power silencing every murmur and shattering Satan's mockery. "Have you considered My servant Job? There is no one on earth like him, blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil."
As God spoke, the space around the throne transformed. Screens of light appeared, displaying scenes from Job's life. The students watched in awe as the images unfolded: Job kneeling in prayer at sunrise, offering sacrifices for his children; Job walking among his servants, treating them with kindness and fairness; Job sharing his wealth with the poor, ensuring that no one in his community went hungry. Each scene radiated integrity and devotion.
Satan's eyes narrowed, his forked tongue flicking. "Does Job fear God for nothing?" he sneered. "Have You not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land. But stretch out Your hand and strike everything he has, and he will surely curse You to Your face."
The students recoiled at the boldness of Satan's challenge, some exchanging uneasy glances. Bakugo's fists clenched, his jaw tight. "That bastard's got some nerve," he muttered.
Then came God's shocking, yet resolute response. "Very well," He said, "everything he has is in your power, but on the man himself do not lay a finger."
At these words, the camera focused on Satan, whose eyes gleamed with malevolent glee. He bowed mockingly once more before slithering away, disappearing into the shadows beyond the throne.
The scene lingered on the throne for a moment longer, the light around it pulsing with an otherworldly rhythm. The sons of God continued their worship, their voices blending in a chorus of praise that filled the heavens.
The screen dimmed, leaving the students sitting in stunned silence. The glimpse of Heaven and the powerful exchange between God and Satan lingered in their minds. The grandeur of God's throne and the audacity of Satan's accusations had left them grappling with questions that now hung in the air.
Catalyst stepped forward, his glowing eyes scanning the room. "I can see this has stirred much within you. Let's take a moment to process and discuss. What are your thoughts?"
Iida raised his hand immediately, his tone measured but urgent. "Catalyst, I'm struggling to understand why Satan was in Heaven at all. Isn't Heaven supposed to be pure, free from the influence of evil?"
Catalyst nodded. "An excellent question, Mr. Iida. While Satan has no place in Heaven as a resident or worshiper any more, he appears here as part of a divine council. This setting reflects a cultural understanding of the time—a courtroom where God is the ultimate judge, and all beings, including Satan, must answer to Him. Satan's presence is not a sign of equality with God but a demonstration of God's authority over all creation, including His adversary."
Uraraka's expression was troubled. "But why would God even entertain Satan's challenge? Job was so faithful. It seems so… cruel to allow such a test."
"God's decision to allow this test was not about cruelty but about revealing the depth and sincerity of Job's faith." Catalyst replied, his tone gentle. "Sometimes, trials refine us, revealing what is truly within our hearts. And as we will see, this test ultimately glorifies God and strengthens Job's relationship with Him."
Midoriya leaned forward, his notebook open. "I noticed something during the exchange," he said thoughtfully. "Satan had to ask permission to test Job. Does that mean God and Satan aren't on the same level?"
Catalyst's expression grew firm. "Yes, Mr. Midoriya. The misconception that God and Satan are equal in power is one of Satan's most insidious lies. The truth is that God is the Creator, omnipotent and sovereign over all things. Satan, on the other hand, is a created being, a rebellious angel who must still answer to God. This passage makes it clear: Satan cannot act without God's permission. His power is limited, and his plans will always be subject to God's ultimate will."
Bakugo scoffed, crossing his arms. "Satan's just a lackey who thinks he's hot stuff."
Kaminari nodded, scratching his head. "Yeah, but why does God even let him roam around? Can't He just… I don't know… zap him out of existence?"
Otto chimed in with a thoughtful tone. "If God wanted to, He could. But consider this: God's patience and justice are beyond our understanding. Even in allowing Satan to roam, God's plan is working toward a greater purpose. Evil may seem unchecked for now, but it's ultimately on a leash."
Shiozaki's voice was soft but resolute. "I'm glad we got to see how much higher the Creator's power is compared to Satan's. The way He silenced Satan's mockery was so… strong. It's comforting to know that evil can't win in the end."
Todoroki, who had been silent, now spoke up. "But why did God bring up Job in the first place? Satan didn't mention him."
Catalyst turned to Todoroki, his gaze thoughtful. "A perceptive observation. God's mention of Job was an intentional act. It highlights Job's faithfulness and righteousness in a way that sets the stage for this test. God knew Job's heart and chose him as an example to demonstrate that true faith is not dependent on blessings or circumstances."
Yaoyorozu interjected, her voice steady but curious. "Does this mean God knew how Job would respond? Or was there uncertainty in Job's reaction?"
Catalyst's expression softened. "God's omniscience means He knows the outcome of all events. However, the test was not for God's benefit but for Job's and for those who witness his faith. It reveals the depth of Job's devotion and provides a powerful testimony that has resonated through generations."
Iida adjusted his glasses, his tone analytical. "Satan's argument seemed calculated. He suggested that Job's faith was only a result of his prosperity. Do you think that's a common tactic of evil—to undermine faith by attacking its motives?"
"Absolutely," Catalyst replied. "One of Satan's primary strategies is to sow doubt about the sincerity and foundation of faith. By attacking Job's motives, he attempted to discredit not only Job but the relationship between humanity and God. However, as we will soon see, Job's faith was far deeper than Satan's accusations."
Uraraka looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed. "But isn't it risky? I mean, letting Satan test Job could have gone horribly wrong. What if Job had failed?"
Catalyst smiled gently. "While from a human perspective it might seem risky, God's understanding and plan are perfect. Even if Job had struggled, the story's purpose—to explore the nature of faith and suffering—would still stand."
Midoriya raised another question, his pen poised over his notebook. "When Satan challenged God, it seemed like he was trying to provoke Him. Does Satan actually believe he can win against God?"
Otto answered this time, his tone serious. "Indeed. Satan's rebellion is rooted in pride and deception. He's deluded himself into thinking he can disrupt God's plans, but deep down, even he knows he's outmatched. His goal isn't to win outright but to cause as much chaos and harm as he can, and prove that humanity is not worthy of the Creator's mercy."
"So he's basically throwing a tantrum on a cosmic scale," Bakugo muttered, earning a few chuckles despite the heavy topic.
Catalyst nodded, his expression grave. "In many ways, yes. But his actions also serve to reveal truths about God's justice, mercy, and sovereignty. What Satan intends for harm, God uses for good."
The students sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the discussion settling over them. Then Catalyst gestured toward the screen. "Now, let us see how this challenge unfolds. Prepare yourselves, for what comes next will test not only Job's faith but perhaps your own understanding of suffering and perseverance."
Job 1:13-22 - Job's First Trial
The screen flickered back to life, and a chilling scene unfolded. Satan descended from the heavens, his serpentine form leading a host of shadowy, grotesque demons. The sky darkened with swirling storm clouds, the air crackling with malevolence. His eyes gleamed with sinister delight as his voice hissed through the air.
"The High One's confidence in His blameless servant," Satan sneered, his forked tongue flicking. "I will strip him of everything, and he will curse the Creator to His face. Come, my servants! We have work to do."
The demons surrounding him howled in eager anticipation. Their forms shifted and twisted, each one reflecting pure malevolence. They screeched and scattered, descending upon the earth like a plague. The screen shifted to the land of Uz, serene and bustling moments earlier, now trembling under the growing storm.
The screen opened to a tranquil morning on Job's estate. Fields stretched endlessly under a soft, golden sun. Oxen pulled plows, and donkeys grazed peacefully. His servants worked diligently, their chatter filling the air with a hum of activity.
Suddenly, the earth seemed to tremble. The distant sound of galloping hooves grew louder, and from over the hills appeared a group of Sabeans. Their eyes glowed with a malevolent, unnatural light, and their movements were swift and purposeful. Demonic possession was evident in their inhuman strength and coordination.
The Sabeans descended upon the unsuspecting workers like a storm. Shouts of warning and screams of terror echoed as the raiders overpowered the servants. The oxen bellowed in fear, their reins cut as they were driven away. Donkeys scattered, some captured and herded by the attackers. Blades flashed in the sunlight, and the servants' resistance was brutally quelled.
One servant, barely managing to evade the attackers, sprinted toward Job's house. His face was pale with fear, and blood trickled from a shallow cut on his cheek.
The screen shifted to another part of Job's estate, where sheep dotted the lush hillsides. Shepherds stood watch, some gathered in groups, others tending to individual tasks. The tranquility was shattered by a sudden flash of light.
A bolt of lightning struck the ground, igniting the dry grass. Before the shepherds could react, more bolts followed in quick succession, creating a fiery inferno. Flames consumed the fields, the sheep bleating in panic as they were caught in the blaze. The shepherds, too, were overtaken, their cries drowned out by the roaring fire.
A lone figure stumbled through the smoke, his clothes singed and his face streaked with soot. He made his way to Job's home, coughing and wheezing.
The scene transitioned again to pastures where Job's camels roamed. The camera captured their majestic forms, symbols of trade and prosperity. Servants moved among them, ensuring their well-being. The peace was shattered by the sound of war cries.
Three raiding parties of Chaldeans appeared on the horizon, their movements coordinated and relentless. Armed with spears and swords, they descended upon the servants, their glowing eyes revealing the demonic forces driving them. The servants tried to defend themselves, but they were no match for the attackers' ferocity.
The Chaldeans rounded up the camels, herding them away as spoils of their raid. The pastures, once vibrant, were left in chaos—bloodstained grass, broken tools, and the lifeless forms of the servants.
Another servant, battered but alive, escaped the massacre.
Later, the first servant finally arrived at Job's estate. He burst into the house, collapsing at his master's feet.
"My lord!" the servant gasped, clutching his side as he struggled for breath. "The Sabeans… they have attacked! They killed your servants and took the oxen and donkeys. I alone escaped to tell you!"
Job's face tightened, but his expression remained composed. "The Sabeans? No…" He looked toward the horizon, his lips moving in silent prayer. "Those poor men…"
As Job absorbed the servant's words, another servant came through the doorway. He collapsed, his voice hoarse.
"Master Job," he choked out. "The fire of God fell from the sky! It struck the sheep and the shepherds. They are all gone… consumed in an instant. I alone escaped to tell you."
Job briefly closed his eyes, processing the news. His hand gripped the edge of his chair.
Before Job could say anything, a third servant ran inside Job's house, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He fell to his knees as he reached Job.
"The Chaldeans, my lord!" he cried. "They formed three raiding parties. They swept down on the camels and killed all your servants. I barely escaped with my life!"
Job's shoulders sagged, but he did not speak.
The screen darkened momentarily, and the next scene began. It showed the eldest son's house, where Job's children were feasting. Laughter and music filled the air, the warmth of familial love evident in their joyous gathering. Outside, the sky grew dark, and the wind picked up, rustling the trees with increasing force.
Without warning, a tornado tore through the landscape, its roar deafening. The walls of the house trembled, windows shattering under the pressure. The children's laughter turned to screams as the structure gave way. The roof collapsed, followed by the walls, burying everyone inside under a mountain of rubble. The storm passed as quickly as it came, leaving silence in its wake.
The screen shifted to a lone servant, crawling out from beneath the debris. His face was streaked with blood and dust, his movements slow and pained. He made his way to Job's home, tears streaming down his face.
"Master Job," the servant said, his voice breaking and his body trembling. "Your sons and daughters… they were feasting in your eldest's house. A great wind came suddenly from the wilderness. It struck the house, and… and it collapsed. They are all dead. I am the only one who survived."
Job stood frozen, the words sinking into him like jagged stones. His breath caught in his throat, and the color drained from his face. The weight of the news crushed him, each word a blow that tore deeper into his soul. The loss of his children—his precious sons and daughters, the joy of his life—was a pain too immense to fathom.
His hands trembled as they reached for the doorframe to steady himself. His knees threatened to buckle, but he did not fall. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks, his expression vacant and hollow. The room around him blurred, as if the world itself recoiled from the enormity of his grief.
The screen shifted to a dark, storm-laden sky where Satan and his followers gathered on a barren, charred plain. Satan watched the unfolding chaos with a wicked grin as the demonic entities under his command returned to him one by one.
"It is done," one demon hissed, its voice like the scraping of metal. "The Sabeans and Chaldeans have ravaged his herds and slain his servants."
Another demon slithered forward, its form wreathed in flickering shadows. "The fire of God fell, consuming his sheep and shepherds. The humans believe it was divine wrath."
A third demon, its wings tattered and blackened, snarled, "The great wind has taken the house of his children. None survived."
Satan's laughter filled the air, harsh and cruel. "Excellent. Let us see how long this 'blameless' servant can endure. His cries will echo in the heavens, and he will curse the Creator for His neglect."
The screen shifted back to Job, now standing amidst the desolation of his once-thriving estate. The sun, once warm and golden, seemed pale and distant as it cast long shadows over the land. The fields were empty, the charred remains of sheep smoldered in the distance, and the rubble of his eldest son's house loomed ominously against the horizon. The weight of the reports from his servants pressed heavily upon him—his wealth, his servants, and now his beloved children, all gone in the span of moments.
Job's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground. The students watching the scene in the theater could almost feel the crushing weight of his grief. His hands trembled as they reached for the hem of his robe, gripping the fabric tightly before tearing it apart in an outward expression of his anguish. The sound of the fabric ripping echoed, a sharp contrast to the eerie silence surrounding him.
With shaking hands, Job reached for a blade. The students flinched, but their concern turned to solemn understanding as they watched him shave his head. This act, an ancient sign of mourning, was deliberate and sacred. The once-proud figure of Job was now bare and vulnerable, stripped of all but his faith.
Then, Job did something unexpected. Rather than collapse entirely under the weight of his sorrow, he lowered himself to the ground in worship. His forehead touched the dust, and his voice, though trembling, rose in a steady cadence:
"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised."
The theater was silent. The students watched, captivated by the rawness of the moment. Job's words echoed with a deep understanding of the fleeting nature of life and possessions. His posture, one of humility and reverence, was a stark contrast to the devastation around him.
Catalyst's voice interjected, gentle yet firm, as the scene froze on Job in his act of worship. "In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing. His faith held firm, even in the face of unimaginable loss."
The scene resumed, and Job's voice carried on in prayer. He did not curse God, nor did he demand answers. Instead, his words reflected a heart that, though broken, remained steadfast. The winds around him seemed to settle as if the earth itself paused to witness his unwavering devotion.
The screen shifted back to Satan, who paced furiously, his serpent-like tail lashing against the scorched earth. His glowing eyes burned with rage, and his fangs glinted as he bared them in fury.
"He still praises Him!" Satan roared, his voice echoing across the desolate wasteland. "After all I've taken from him—his wealth, his servants, his children—he dares to bow and worship! This pathetic display of faith is nothing but stubborn ignorance!"
One of the demons slithered closer, its voice grating like the scraping of metal. "Perhaps the loss was not great enough, Master."
Another demon emerged from the shadows, its voice eerie and cold. "What of his wife? She still lives. Why not take her life?"
Satan turned sharply, his glare piercing the demon that dared to speak. "Do not think I have not tried!" he spat, his tail snapping against the ground. "She is protected by the High One's forces. But no matter." His pacing resumed, his tail raking through the ash. "Her grief and despair will serve me well. I will twist her anguish until it becomes a weapon against him."
Before Satan could elaborate further, a brilliant light pierced the oppressive darkness. The demons recoiled, their twisted forms retreating into the shadows, hissing in fear.
A seraphim angel descended, its six wings glowing with radiant fire that burned away the gloom. The air hummed with its authority, and its presence was both magnificent and terrifying.
"Satan, the Lord summons you to His throne," the angel declared, its voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. Its gaze fixed unflinchingly on the Prince of Darkness. "You are to give account for your actions."
Satan sneered, his forked tongue flicking in defiance. "Summoned again so soon?" he said mockingly, though a flicker of unease crossed his face. "How tiresome."
The seraphim remained unmoved by his taunts. "You will come. Now."
Satan's followers hissed in frustration, their collective anger rippling through the air, but none dared to challenge the angel. Satan straightened, his expression shifting to one of feigned indifference. "Very well," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The High One wishes to see me; who am I to refuse?"
As he prepared to depart, his mind raced with schemes and excuses. He would not admit failure, not before the heavenly assembly. "If I cannot break Job with loss," he thought to himself, "I will shatter him with suffering. His faith is a brittle facade, and I will expose it. This charade of faith will not endure."
With a flick of his tail, Satan turned to his followers. "Prepare yourselves. When I return, we will have new orders."
The seraphim's light intensified, and with a wave of its fiery wings, it transported Satan away from his dark dominion. The demons melted back into the shadows, their whispers of malice fading into the void as they awaited their master's return.
A/N: We're back with the next installment in this MHA Reacts to the Bible series!
Creative liberties were taken with a few scenes, especially the ones involving Satan. The description of Heaven (specifically the Throne of God) was based on Revelation 3. I understand words can do little to describe how magnificent of a place it is though.
Please leave any comments or critique. If you have any suggestions, feel free to share.