Sermon for October 21st, 2012 - Revision history

Iraneal: 14 revisions

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Iraneal at 08:30, 21 October 2012

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Iraneal at 08:29, 21 October 2012

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Iraneal at 08:29, 21 October 2012

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Iraneal at 07:39, 21 October 2012

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Iraneal at 07:13, 21 October 2012

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Iraneal at 06:43, 21 October 2012

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 The cover of our bulletin for this sermon series loosely quotes this poem:  "In a world of suffering and pain, where can wisdom be found?" I hope the answer--that it can't be found, at least not in this life, and not by us--doesn't disappoint you too much.  Since I set up that false expectation, I guess that's my fault.  What can I say?  It ain't fair?  That's far too callous a place to end, especially for those who have, or will, experience tragedy and suffering in this life.  Job may not offer understanding, but I believe it does offer something for those who suffer and those who grieve.  It offers comfort.  I think there are three great principles that we can pull out of this passage, and out of Job's experience--principles that I hope will comfort you and give you hope when tragedy strikes.
-#Grief takes time.  When Job loses everything in chapter 2, his immediate response is to bless the Lord.  I don't think that's evidence of some superhuman faith.  I think it was just habit kicking in. In tragedy, we are comforted by our favorite quotes, our customs, and traditions.  But ironically, in the long haul tragedy forces us to change those customs, because we are forever changed by our loss.
+First: Grief takes time.  When Job loses everything in chapter 2, his immediate response is to bless the Lord.  I don't think that's evidence of some superhuman faith.  I think it was just habit kicking in. In tragedy, we are comforted by our favorite quotes, our customs, and traditions.  But ironically, in the long haul tragedy forces us to change those customs, because we are forever changed by our loss.
 Grief takes time.  Job's suffering and anguish last for three quarters of the book. It's only after today's passage, chapter 30, that Job has finally exhausted everything he has to say, all his questions, all his grievances, all his accusations and anger.
@@ Line 89: / Line 89: @@
 But then something interesting happens.  When Job has reached the end of his rope...God is there waiting.  I think he was there all along. Listening. Grief takes time, but God (more than Job, and us) is patient.
-#When tragedy strikes, hold tightly to what you know about God.  Maybe for you that's God's sovereignty.  Maybe it's God's love. Whichever one it is for you, cling to it because it will get you through. It's ok to question, to doubt, even to get angry.  But hold on to at least one thing you know about God.  And the things you don't know, don't understand? Let them go. God can be what you need him to be and still have enough mystery to account for the rest.
+Second: When tragedy strikes, hold tightly to what you know about God.  Maybe for you that's God's sovereignty.  Maybe it's God's love. Whichever one it is for you, cling to it because it will get you through. It's ok to question, to doubt, even to get angry.  But hold on to at least one thing you know about God.  And the things you don't know, don't understand? Let them go. God can be what you need him to be and still have enough mystery to account for the rest.
-#The third thing is simple:  It's always darkest...just before the dawn.
+The third thing is simple:  It's always darkest...just before the dawn.
 We live in the wake of the life of Jesus Christ, the son of God.

@@ Line 122: / Line 122: @@
 No matter how long the road
 No matter how dark the night
-God will lead you through it to a brand new day.
+God will lead you through it to a bright new day.

@@ Line 95: / Line 95: @@
 We live in the wake of the life of Jesus Christ, the son of God.
 We have a hope and a comfort that Job never knew.
-When the son of God rose up from the grave, it was with the promise
+Because when the son of God rose up from the grave, it was with the promise
 that someday we too would conquer death and darkness.
 We work toward a Kingdom where suffering and loss will be no more
@@ Line 110: / Line 110: @@
 He asks us to carry each other's burdens, too.
-Let this be your prayer in the midst of tragedy
+So let this be your prayer in the midst of tragedy
 Let this be your hope and your comfort
 That in your hour of greatest need

@@ Line 87: / Line 87: @@
 Grief takes time.  Job's suffering and anguish last for three quarters of the book. It's only after today's passage, chapter 30, that Job has finally exhausted everything he has to say, all his questions, all his grievances, all his accusations and anger.
-But then something interesting happens.  When Job has reached the end of his rope...God is there waiting.  I think he was there all along. Listening. Grief takes time, but God is patient.
+But then something interesting happens.  When Job has reached the end of his rope...God is there waiting.  I think he was there all along. Listening. Grief takes time, but God (more than Job, and us) is patient.
 #When tragedy strikes, hold tightly to what you know about God.  Maybe for you that's God's sovereignty.  Maybe it's God's love. Whichever one it is for you, cling to it because it will get you through. It's ok to question, to doubt, even to get angry.  But hold on to at least one thing you know about God.  And the things you don't know, don't understand? Let them go. God can be what you need him to be and still have enough mystery to account for the rest.
@@ Line 93: / Line 93: @@
 #The third thing is simple:  It's always darkest...just before the dawn.
+Let this be your prayer in the midst of tragedy
+Let this be your hope and your comfort
+That in your hour of greatest need
-When my grandmother died a few years ago at the age of 76, it was a sad and difficult time for my family, but I don't think I would call it a tragedy.  My grandmother had lived an entirely full life; she did everything that she was supposed to do, everything she had wanted to do.  She got to see her six children grow up and get married, her grandchildren, and even several great-grandchildren.
-−
-When my father died of a massive heart attack at the age of 48, three of his four children were still in high school, and one (me) had just graduated from college two weeks before.  I'm grateful my dad got to be there at my graduation from college, but he wasn't at my wedding, and he never got to hold any of my three children.  I think he would have been proud to see me standing here today preaching to you.
-−
-My dad knew of my sister's dream to someday become a pilot, but he wasn't there to celebrate the day she got accepted into the Air Force Academy, or the day she graduated from pilot training school.  He didn't get to walk her down the aisle four years ago, when she got married to another young Air Force Pilot, Mark Jennings.  And he wasn't there to hold her and comfort her just one year later when Mark was killed by a runaway car while doing yard work in his front yard.  Nine months later, my sister gave birth to Katie, conceived the night before Mark died, and born into a world already minus a father and a grandfather.
-−
-The loss of my grandmother was sad, but something we could all wrap our minds around: she had come to the end of a reasonably long life.  The loss of my father, and the loss of my brother-in-law, both in the prime of their lives...those were tragedies. Unreasonable tragedies.  Inexplicable tragedies. Especially for my sister and her daughter, who lost more than anyone should have to lose in one lifetime.

@@ Line 83: / Line 83: @@
 The cover of our bulletin for this sermon series loosely quotes this poem:  "In a world of suffering and pain, where can wisdom be found?" I hope the answer--that it can't be found, at least not in this life, and not by us--doesn't disappoint you too much.  Since I set up that false expectation, I guess that's my fault.  What can I say?  It ain't fair?  That's far too callous a place to end, especially for those who have, or will, experience tragedy and suffering in this life.  Job may not offer understanding, but I believe it does offer something for those who suffer and those who grieve.  It offers comfort.  I think there are three great principles that we can pull out of this passage, and out of Job's experience--principles that I hope will comfort you and give you hope when tragedy strikes.
-#It's the long haul that's hard...but the long haul is where God shows up.  Job's grief, his suffering, his anguish lasts for 30 chapters.
+#Grief takes time.  When Job loses everything in chapter 2, his immediate response is to bless the Lord.  I don't think that's evidence of some superhuman faith.  I think it was just habit kicking in. In tragedy, we are comforted by our favorite quotes, our customs, and traditions.  But ironically, in the long haul tragedy forces us to change those customs, because we are forever changed by our loss.
-Job blesses the name of the Lord in chapter two immediately after disaster strikes. I don't think this is because of some Herculean faith, but because he's still in shock. Job's habit at that point is to bless God in all things.  When tragedy strikes, we are immediately comforted by our favorite quotes, maxims, and traditions.  But in the days, weeks and months to follow, after all our friends have gone back to their routines and we are left with our loss...that's when things really start to fall apart.  The long haul is where things get hard.  BUT...(and here's the comfort) it is only ''after'' Job has exhausted everything he has to say, all his grievances...that God finally speaks, finally reveals himself.  The long haul is hard...but that's where God shows up.
+But then something interesting happens.  When Job has reached the end of his rope...God is there waiting.  I think he was there all along. Listening. Grief takes time, but God is patient.

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	</poem>		</poem>

		+	The cover of our bulletin for this sermon series loosely quotes this poem: "In a world of suffering and pain, where can wisdom be found?" I hope the answer--that it can't be found, at least not in this life, and not by us--doesn't disappoint you too much. Since I set up that false expectation, I guess that's my fault. What can I say? It ain't fair? That's far too callous a place to end, especially for those who have, or will, experience tragedy and suffering in this life. Job may not offer understanding, but I believe it does offer something for those who suffer and those who grieve. It offers comfort. I think there are three great principles that we can pull out of this passage, and out of Job's experience--principles that I hope will comfort you and give you hope when tragedy strikes.

		+	#It's the long haul that's hard...but the long haul is where God shows up. Job's grief, his suffering, his anguish lasts for 30 chapters.
		+
		+
		+	Job blesses the name of the Lord in chapter two immediately after disaster strikes. I don't think this is because of some Herculean faith, but because he's still in shock. Job's habit at that point is to bless God in all things. When tragedy strikes, we are immediately comforted by our favorite quotes, maxims, and traditions. But in the days, weeks and months to follow, after all our friends have gone back to their routines and we are left with our loss...that's when things really start to fall apart. The long haul is where things get hard. BUT...(and here's the comfort) it is only ''after'' Job has exhausted everything he has to say, all his grievances...that God finally speaks, finally reveals himself. The long haul is hard...but that's where God shows up.
		+
		+	#When tragedy strikes, hold tightly to what you know about God. Maybe for you that's God's sovereignty. Maybe it's God's love. Whichever one it is, cling to it because it will get you through. It's ok to question, to doubt, even to get angry. But hold on to at least one thing you know about God. And the things you don't know, don't understand? Let them go. God can be what you need him to be and still have enough mystery to account for the rest.
		+
		+	#

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:43, 21 October 2012
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	Here's a tip in case you ever find yourself on the comforting end of someone's tragedy: He or she may be looking desperately for answers, but unless you are the Creator of the universe and all things, you probably shouldn't try to offer any. It's better just to sit quietly in solidarity and let your presence be the best answer you've got. I don't understand either, but I'm here.		Here's a tip in case you ever find yourself on the comforting end of someone's tragedy: He or she may be looking desperately for answers, but unless you are the Creator of the universe and all things, you probably shouldn't try to offer any. It's better just to sit quietly in solidarity and let your presence be the best answer you've got. I don't understand either, but I'm here.

−	Job, of course, is pretty solidly on the "sovereignty" side of things. He never questions that God is in control. Notice that in chapter two, Job said "The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away." He didn't say "The Lord gives and Satan takes away" or "the Lord gives but evil people (and natural disasters) take away." God is in control. But this is probably why later in the book, when things start to unravel form him, he questions God's goodness. "It ain't fair" quickly becomes "Lord, ''you'' ain't fair."	+	Job, of course, is pretty solidly on the "sovereignty" side of things. He never questions that God is in control. Notice that in chapter two, Job said "The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away." He didn't say "The Lord gives and Satan takes away" or "the Lord gives but evil people (and natural disasters) take away." God is in control. But this is probably why later in the book, when things start to unravel form him, he questions God's goodness. "It ain't fair" quickly becomes "Lord, ''you'' ain't fair."

		+	Job is in pretty good company on the "sovereignty" side of the argument--Calvin leans that direction, and so does your new pastor. But that's not to say that Job, Calvin, and I are necessarily right: Leaning on the "love" side of the argument are such notable figures as John of Patmos, the Wesley brothers, and Rev. Lynette. What all six of us have in common is that at some point we have to acknowledge that none of our answers are completely adequate, and our reasoning can only take us so far in our knowledge of God. God is sovereign; God is love; but God is also mystery.

		+	In the midst of all his suffering, Job speaks eloquently about this very fact just a few chapters earlier in a beautiful poem that has come to be called the "Hymn to Wisdom" in the book of Job:
		+
		+	<poem>
		+	But where shall wisdom be found?
		+	And where is the place of understanding?
		+	Mortals do not know the way to it,
		+	and it is not found in the land of the living.
		+	The deep says, "It is not in me."
		+	and the sea says, "It is not with me."
		+	It cannot be gotten for gold,
		+	and silver cannot be weighed out as its price...
		+
		+	Where then does wisdom come from?
		+	And where is the place of understanding?
		+	It is hidden from the eyes of all living
		+	and concealed from the birds of the air.
		+	Abadon and Death say
		+	We have heard a rumor of it with our ears.
		+	God understands the way to it,
		+	and he knows its place.
		+	For he looks to the ends of the earth,
		+	and sees everything under the heavens...
		+	</poem>

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 But then last Sunday, Job's patience went out the window.  He can't take it anymore, and he begins to question God.  This is the "Why?" phase that Lynette preached about.  Things are beginning to unravel, but Job still hasn't made any judgments, and hasn't placed the blame anywhere yet.  He just wants to understand what's wrong.
-Job is a long book, and we're really condensing it here--the first Sunday we read chapters one and two, then last Sunday we jumped forward all the way to chapter twenty three, and this Sunday we jump forward again to chapter 30.  And by the time we arrive at chapter 30, there is a definite shift in Job's tone, in his argument.  Job is no longer questioning why--he has come up with an answer, he's ready to make his judgment, and here it is:  God did this to me. Verse 18: "With violence he seizes my garment; he grasps me by the collar of my tunic. He has cast me into the mire."  Then in verse 21, Job shifts from talking ''about'' God to speaking directly to God--and his tone is just as harsh: "You do not answer me...you have turned cruel to me...you persecute me...you will bring me to death."  Not only does Job blame God, but he judges God too:  "Surely one does not turn against the needy when in disaster they cry for help?"  Job points to himself as an example: "Did I not weep for those whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the poor?" In other words, "If even I can do those things, God, surely you can too. Or am I better than you?" Verse 26: When I looked for good, evil came; and when I waited for light, darkness came." It almost sounds here like Job is accusing God of evil.  Pretty bold for a patient man who "did not sin with his lips."
+Job is a long book, and we're really condensing it here--the first Sunday we read chapters one and two, then last Sunday we jumped forward all the way to chapter twenty three, and this Sunday we jump forward again to chapter 30.  And by the time we arrive at chapter 30, there is a definite shift in Job's tone, in his argument.  Job is no longer questioning why--he has come up with an answer:  It ain't fair. And he's ready to make his judgment:  Lord, ''you'' ain't fair. In other words, God did this to me. Verse 18: "With violence he seizes my garment; he grasps me by the collar of my tunic. He has cast me into the mire."  Then in verse 21, Job shifts from talking ''about'' God to speaking directly to God--and his tone is just as harsh: "You do not answer me...you have turned cruel to me...you persecute me...you will bring me to death."  Not only does Job blame God, but he judges God too:  "Surely one does not turn against the needy when in disaster they cry for help?"  Job points to himself as an example: "Did I not weep for those whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the poor?" In other words, "If even I can do those things, God, surely you can too. Or am I better than you?" Verse 26: When I looked for good, evil came; and when I waited for light, darkness came." It almost sounds here like Job is accusing God of evil.  Pretty bold for a patient man who "did not sin with his lips."
 Actually, Job has landed squarely in the middle of a dilemma that has tied theologians and philosophers in knots for ages, as well as just about any faithful Christian or Jewish person who has experienced a tragedy.  It goes something like this:
-We believe, on one hand, that God is omnipotent (all-powerful), in control of everything that happens, or at the very least, capable of accomplishing anything he wants to accomplish.  On the other hand, we also believe that God is benevolent (perfectly good) and not capable of evil.  After all, scripture tells us that God is love.   These are two pillars of our faith in God.
+We believe, on one hand, that God is sovereign--all powerful, in control of everything that happens in the universe.  We also believe, on the other hand, that God is good--he loves us perfectly and unconditionally. After all, God is love.  And so when tragedy strikes, we tend to question one of those two pillars of our faith.  "God, if you really love me and want what is best for me, how could you let this happen to me?" Maybe God is not as "good" or "loving" as we thought.  Or maybe God loves us, but something prevented Him from helping us in this situation...maybe, then, God is not as "powerful" as we thought.  Countless solutions have been proposed to this dilemma, but almost all of them end up compromising one side or the other, at least a little, in order to work.
-It's easy to believe that God is both good and in control when things are going your way (like Job at the beginning of the book).  But what about when bad things happen--when we are confronted with evil, violence, disaster, or tragedy?  If God is both good and in control, why would he let things like that happen?  There are all sorts of ways people have tried to resolve this problem, but most (and maybe all) of them end up somehow compromising one of these two pillars--God's goodness, or God's omnipotence.
+Let me give you an example from my own life:  When my father died of a heart attack at the age of 48, some well-intentioned person came up to me at the funeral service and said:  "This is all part of God's plan.  We can't see it now, but somehow this will all work out for the best."   I wanted to punch that person in the face.  You mean God ''wanted'' my Dad to die?  What kind of God is that?  And is it really all about me? God wanted my Dad to die so that somehow things could work out better for me?  Well, that's great for me, but it sure stinks for my Dad!  What I didn't realize at the time was that this person was trying desperately to hold onto God's sovereignty, or God's "all-powerful" nature.  God is in control.  And in the process, that well-meaning person let the other pillar (God's love or goodness) come into question some.
-When my grandmother died a few years ago at the age of 76, it was a sad and difficult time for my family, but I don't think I would call it a tragedy.  My grandmother had lived an entirely full life; she did everything that she was supposed to do, everything she had wanted to do.  She got to see her six children grow up and get married, her grandchildren, and even several great-grandchildren.
+Here's a tip in case you ever find yourself on the comforting end of someone's tragedy:  He or she may be looking desperately for answers, but unless you are the Creator of the universe and all things, you probably shouldn't try to offer any.  It's better just to sit quietly in solidarity and let your presence be the best answer you've got.  I don't understand either, but I'm here.
-When my father died of a massive heart attack at the age of 48, three of his four children were still in high school, and one (me) had just graduated from college two weeks before.  I'm grateful my dad got to be there at my graduation from college, but he wasn't at my wedding, and he never got to hold any of my three children.  I think he would have been proud to see me standing here today preaching to you.
+Job, of course, is pretty solidly on the "sovereignty" side of things.  He never questions that God is in control.  Notice that in chapter two, Job said "The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away." He didn't say "The Lord gives and Satan takes away" or "the Lord gives but evil people (and natural disasters) take away." God is in control.  But this is probably why later in the book, when things start to unravel form him, he questions God's goodness.  "It ain't fair" quickly becomes "Lord, ''you'' ain't fair."
-But now that I've thrown that advice out there, I'm going to do just the opposite.  I'm going to disregard my own advice.

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:02, 21 October 2012
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	But then last Sunday, Job's patience went out the window. He can't take it anymore, and he begins to question God. This is the "Why?" phase that Lynette preached about. Things are beginning to unravel, but Job still hasn't made any judgments, and hasn't placed the blame anywhere yet. He just wants to understand what's wrong.		But then last Sunday, Job's patience went out the window. He can't take it anymore, and he begins to question God. This is the "Why?" phase that Lynette preached about. Things are beginning to unravel, but Job still hasn't made any judgments, and hasn't placed the blame anywhere yet. He just wants to understand what's wrong.

−	Job is a long book, and we're really condensing it here--the first Sunday we read chapters one and two, then last Sunday we jumped forward all the way to chapter twenty three, and this Sunday we jump forward again to chapter 30. And by the time we arrive at chapter 30, there is a definite shift in Job's tone, in his argument. Job is no longer questioning why--he has come up with an answer, he's ready to make his judgment, and here it is: God did this to me. Verse 18: "With violence he seizes my garment; he grasps me by the collar of my tunic. He has cast me into the mire." Then in verse 21, Job shifts from talking ''about'' God to speaking directly to God--and his tone is just as harsh: "You do not answer me...you have turned cruel to me...you persecute me...you will bring me to death." Not only does Job blame God, but he judges God too: "Surely one does not turn against the needy when in disaster they cry for help?" Job points to himself as an example: "Did I not weep for those whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the poor?" In other words, "If even I can do those things, God, surely you can too. Or am I better than you?" Verse 26: When I looked for good, evil came; and when I waited for light, darkness came." It almost sounds here like Job is accusing God of evil.	+	Job is a long book, and we're really condensing it here--the first Sunday we read chapters one and two, then last Sunday we jumped forward all the way to chapter twenty three, and this Sunday we jump forward again to chapter 30. And by the time we arrive at chapter 30, there is a definite shift in Job's tone, in his argument. Job is no longer questioning why--he has come up with an answer, he's ready to make his judgment, and here it is: God did this to me. Verse 18: "With violence he seizes my garment; he grasps me by the collar of my tunic. He has cast me into the mire." Then in verse 21, Job shifts from talking ''about'' God to speaking directly to God--and his tone is just as harsh: "You do not answer me...you have turned cruel to me...you persecute me...you will bring me to death." Not only does Job blame God, but he judges God too: "Surely one does not turn against the needy when in disaster they cry for help?" Job points to himself as an example: "Did I not weep for those whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the poor?" In other words, "If even I can do those things, God, surely you can too. Or am I better than you?" Verse 26: When I looked for good, evil came; and when I waited for light, darkness came." It almost sounds here like Job is accusing God of evil. Pretty bold for a patient man who "did not sin with his lips."
		+
		+	Actually, Job has landed squarely in the middle of a dilemma that has tied theologians and philosophers in knots for ages, as well as just about any faithful Christian or Jewish person who has experienced a tragedy. It goes something like this:
		+
		+	We believe, on one hand, that God is omnipotent (all-powerful), in control of everything that happens, or at the very least, capable of accomplishing anything he wants to accomplish. On the other hand, we also believe that God is benevolent (perfectly good) and not capable of evil. After all, scripture tells us that God is love. These are two pillars of our faith in God.
		+
		+	It's easy to believe that God is both good and in control when things are going your way (like Job at the beginning of the book). But what about when bad things happen--when we are confronted with evil, violence, disaster, or tragedy? If God is both good and in control, why would he let things like that happen? There are all sorts of ways people have tried to resolve this problem, but most (and maybe all) of them end up somehow compromising one of these two pillars--God's goodness, or God's omnipotence.