[Our lessons were Job 38:1-11; Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32; 2 Corinthians 6:1-13; and Mark 4:35-41.]
When we think of Job, we usually think of the cliché, “the patience of Job.” This is from a reference in the Letter of James that was translated that way, but the Greek word used is actually better translated as “endurance” or “persistent.” And, in fact, if you read the Book of Job, you don’t see much patience, but you do see that Job is persistent in his claims that he is suffering undeservedly.
To understand God’s answer to Job, which we hear today, we need to know what the question was. Job’s question emerged from a particular view of the world that was shared by ancient Israel and its neighbors and which sounds very familiar to us today. According to this concept, those who live a good life obedient to God’s commands will be rewarded with good fortune—long life, health, wealth, and other blessings. Conversely, those who sin and disobey God’s commandments will receive misfortune—illness, poverty, and other woes. This legalistic concept, which focused on right and wrong, was thought to be the essence of justice. You got what you deserved; you reaped what you sowed, and so on. When inevitable tragedy struck, people would console themselves in the belief that the outcome is just and that the victims must have deserved the “punishment” in some way.
Before we get too pleased with ourselves for being far more advanced than that, we would do well to recall some comments after recent disasters. After the September 11 terrorist attacks, the late Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson said that the attacks were God’s punishment for what they perceived as our nation’s failings. Similarly, after hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and the Mississippi Gulf Coast four years ago, some said that the devastation was punishment for the decadence of New Orleans. One anti-abortion activist even claimed to have seen the image of an 8-week-old fetus in the satellite picture of the hurricane!
To Job, the suffering he endures—his flocks stolen, his servants murdered, his children killed, his health ruined, his home destroyed—makes no sense. Job knows that he has not sinned or disobeyed God—and still he suffers. His framework of the world—a world of clearly-defined right and wrong—has failed him, but he holds on to it the more tightly as the only thing left standing between him and the chaos of the world.
We are a lot like Job. When tragedy strikes, we often seek to discover what the victim did that might have caused it. Sometimes there are benefits to that approach, but frequently we seem to be seeking for something the victim did wrong, as if to be able to say, “See, he deserved it!” If you look at the stories of traffic accidents or shootings on the web sites of our local TV stations or newspaper and scroll down to the comments people post, you’ll see what I mean.
To a large degree, this is understandable. We like to believe that we are in control of our destiny. If we do good, good will be done to us. While we know, at least at an intellectual level, that it doesn’t always work out that way, we—as did Job—instinctively hold this up as a shield against chaos.
Job even sought a legal solution to the failing of his legal framework. He challenged God to a legal hearing, certain that if he can just get his day in court, he will be vindicated, justice will prevail and chaos tamed. Job demands to know why he, an innocent man, must suffer: “Let the Almighty answer me!” Job’s question is of course our own.
God’s response is to describe the greatness of creation. God doesn’t answer as a lawyer or a judge, but as a poet. God doesn’t correct Job or teach him a lesson, but instead shows him the Divine glory. The chaos which Job wants to hold off is a part of God’s creation, too. But God never really tells Job why he has suffered. As Barbara Brown Taylor has written
Job’s question was about justice. God’s answer is about omnipotence, and, as far as I know, that is the only answer human beings have ever gotten about why things happen the way they do. God only knows. And none of us is God.
Job comes to understand that despite the existence of chaos, the world does rest on a secure foundation. God will support and sustain his people in times of pain and loss. Job may not have gotten an answer to his question, but he has received a revelation—he has seen the Divine and lived.
Like Job, we long for answers. But for us, the content of God’s answer to Job is not nearly as important as this simple fact: God answers. The chaos is still there, as it was for the storm-tossed disciples in our Gospel reading today, but so is God. And that is enough. In the tempest of life, God comes to us to speak of peace. He is the Crucified and Risen Lord who is with us in storm and calm, when we have all the answers and when all we have are unanswered questions.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
A Choice of Hope
[Our lessons were Ezekiel 17:22-24; Psalm 92:1-4, 11-14; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10, (11-13), 14-17; and Mark 4:26-34.]
Churches have and need lots of helpers—even small ones like St. Christopher’s! When you multiply all of the St. Christophers’ and Christ Churches across the whole Episcopal Church, that becomes a lot of people. And that doesn’t even take into account all of the other faith groups across our country and the world.
Sometimes we get to worrying that this task or that job won’t get done if we don’t do it ourselves. I think it’s an occupational (or vocational?) hazard that sometimes we confuse the invitation to participate in God’s mission with an invitation to take over for God.
The first of Jesus’ mustard seed parables addresses this. The farmer may sow seeds and the seeds may grow—or not. Whichever result comes is not the farmer’s doing. No farmer can make seeds grow. Creation comes from God, not us. We can (and should) participate in the process by influencing things which can help growth—working the soil, watering, and so on, but we don’t have the power of creation. Only God has that power.
And He has used that to create an earth which is fruitful—sometimes despite our best efforts!—where the rain falls without our deserving it. Remember that God saw that his creation was good.
We do well to remember the basic goodness of creation. We sometimes tend to talk and act as if the world is an irredeemably evil place. That way is the path of despair. The Truth (with a “capital T”) is that this world yearns for the Kingdom of Heaven; it is irresistibly drawn toward it and every day contains opportunities to experience God’s power and love. We can make a choice of hope. We can have confidence, as St. Paul told the early church in Corinth, that our new creation in Christ is eternal and indestructible and, as in the second parable we hear today, the smallest mustard seed will grow to a great plant.
With that confidence in our new creation comes a sense of life in abundance, of opportunities, of joy and hope. While God does call us to labor in the vineyards, that is not a call only to soul-crushing, unceasing toil. That was the original meaning of the Sabbath: a day to rest from work and be thankful for God’s creation. (The connection to a a six-day creation was added later.)
In the Kingdom of Heaven there will be no need to pray “that God’s will be done” because it will be done! In the Kingdom of Heaven, no one will feel a need to have power over others and instead will act out of compassion. In the Kingdom of Heaven, violence will cease and all will have life in its fullest.
We know that people don’t always make the choice of hope. They instead make the choice of fear. We choose the safe and familiar instead of the new and challenging. We willingly remain in ignorance instead of taking the risks that can come from learning. We follow our instincts and “feelings” even though they don’t lead us to the Kingdom of Heaven.
Fortunately, we don’t have that choice presented to us only once in our lifetimes or even just on special occasions. The choice to live in the Kingdom of Heaven comes to each of us every hour of every day of our lives.
As St. Paul says, “we walk by faith, not by sight…. For the love of Christ urges us on, [and] there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”
Churches have and need lots of helpers—even small ones like St. Christopher’s! When you multiply all of the St. Christophers’ and Christ Churches across the whole Episcopal Church, that becomes a lot of people. And that doesn’t even take into account all of the other faith groups across our country and the world.
Sometimes we get to worrying that this task or that job won’t get done if we don’t do it ourselves. I think it’s an occupational (or vocational?) hazard that sometimes we confuse the invitation to participate in God’s mission with an invitation to take over for God.
The first of Jesus’ mustard seed parables addresses this. The farmer may sow seeds and the seeds may grow—or not. Whichever result comes is not the farmer’s doing. No farmer can make seeds grow. Creation comes from God, not us. We can (and should) participate in the process by influencing things which can help growth—working the soil, watering, and so on, but we don’t have the power of creation. Only God has that power.
And He has used that to create an earth which is fruitful—sometimes despite our best efforts!—where the rain falls without our deserving it. Remember that God saw that his creation was good.
We do well to remember the basic goodness of creation. We sometimes tend to talk and act as if the world is an irredeemably evil place. That way is the path of despair. The Truth (with a “capital T”) is that this world yearns for the Kingdom of Heaven; it is irresistibly drawn toward it and every day contains opportunities to experience God’s power and love. We can make a choice of hope. We can have confidence, as St. Paul told the early church in Corinth, that our new creation in Christ is eternal and indestructible and, as in the second parable we hear today, the smallest mustard seed will grow to a great plant.
With that confidence in our new creation comes a sense of life in abundance, of opportunities, of joy and hope. While God does call us to labor in the vineyards, that is not a call only to soul-crushing, unceasing toil. That was the original meaning of the Sabbath: a day to rest from work and be thankful for God’s creation. (The connection to a a six-day creation was added later.)
In the Kingdom of Heaven there will be no need to pray “that God’s will be done” because it will be done! In the Kingdom of Heaven, no one will feel a need to have power over others and instead will act out of compassion. In the Kingdom of Heaven, violence will cease and all will have life in its fullest.
We know that people don’t always make the choice of hope. They instead make the choice of fear. We choose the safe and familiar instead of the new and challenging. We willingly remain in ignorance instead of taking the risks that can come from learning. We follow our instincts and “feelings” even though they don’t lead us to the Kingdom of Heaven.
Fortunately, we don’t have that choice presented to us only once in our lifetimes or even just on special occasions. The choice to live in the Kingdom of Heaven comes to each of us every hour of every day of our lives.
As St. Paul says, “we walk by faith, not by sight…. For the love of Christ urges us on, [and] there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)