Suffering

 December 14, 2020

I inadvertently skipped an important phrase in the Creed: [Jesus] "suffered under Pontius Pilate." I was zeroed in on the historicity of Jesus' life and death and left out this crucial part. Someone once remarked that evil is only a philosophical problem for Christians and Jews who believe in an all-powerful and loving God. An atheist or evolutionist may not like evil and suffering, but it's not an intellectual or philosophical issue because it just is. If you don't believe in God, there is nothing to explain or understand. On the other hand, if there is no Source of goodness, no Supreme Being before whom we are accountable, who's to say we can't murder, steal, lie and cheat? Society may function better if we don't, but these vices can't be said to be morally wrong if there is no objective standard. And without God, all standards become relative. 

But for Christians, evil is a real philosophical problem. It is classically stated thusly: "If God is all-powerful, he could prevent suffering; if he is loving, he would prevent suffering. Suffering exists, therefore God either is not all-powerful, or not loving." It is a conundrum against which faith has shattered for more than one person. I've even read sermons from preachers who grappled with this problem and concluded that God must not be all-powerful. Apparently they couldn't allow themselves to suppose that God is not loving.

The problem is, we can philosophize all we want, but it is this world, this reality with which we must finally come to terms. Evil is abundantly present in this world, and yet in the face of it, as Christians we hold in tension the omnipotence and the love of God. I wish I understood why there has to be as much suffering as there is in this world, but I don't. What I do believe is that God uses even evil to forge in his people faith, perseverance, courage, and compassion, none of which would be possible apart from suffering. 

This short phrase in the Creed takes it a step further. Christ joins us in suffering. For reasons unknown to me, God has usually chosen not to deliver his people out of suffering, but to perfect them through it, but he hasn't done so as a distant deity who issues edicts that impact others but have no effect on himself. No; in Jesus Christ, God entered this world of suffering, and joined us in our sorrows. Countless times I've had the sacred honor of walking with people through some of their darkest hours. Rarely have I been able to do anything that actually alleviates their suffering, but I've had people tell me that just being there beside them in their grief was what enabled them to make it through the storm. I can testify to the same power of Presence as people have stood by me in hard times. I prayed for the storm to pass, and it eventually did, but not as quickly as I would have liked, and not without it taking its toll on me and those I love. But I also had the blessing of people who walked with me, and they are to this day my deepest friends.

Jesus Christ suffered under Pontius Pilate. God doesn't abandon us, doesn't chide us in our struggles. Instead, as Scripture says, "We do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." (Hebrews 4:15-16). Jesus suffered, so he knows and understands our suffering, our weakness in the midst of it, and instead of condemning us, bids us confidently draw near because God is gracious and merciful. Just knowing this causes me to bow in awe and thanksgiving before our all-powerful and all-loving God.

Entering Hell

 December 13, 2020

It’s been awhile since I’ve offered my reflections on the Creed, so maybe it’s time to get back to it.  

After mentioning a few historical facts of Jesus' life (his virgin birth, crucifixion, death, burial), the Creed suddenly takes on a different tone, moving to aspects of our faith that strictly speaking, are not historical in the normal sense of the word. After all, for most of us, except for whatever legacy we leave behind us, when we are buried, our human history comes to an end. Not so with Jesus; his story begins before Creation and continues through eternity. His human history has a beginning in the Virgin Birth, but it doesn't end with his death. The Creed continues with a somewhat controversial phrase: "He descended into hell." Controversial in that not every tradition recites this statement. 

It's inclusion in the Creed has its origins in a couple of somewhat cryptic Scriptures: 1 Peter 3:13-21 and Ephesians 4:9. In the first, it says Jesus after his death "preached to the spirits in prison...who were disobedient in the days of Noah...," and the in the second, "He who ascended into heaven first descended into the depths of the earth." It is easy to misunderstand this. The term "hell" here isn't the place of damnation and torment which usually comes to mind. It simply means 'the place of the dead.' The significance of this short statement is in affirming the totality of Jesus' human experience; he not only died and was buried, but entered the place of the dead. But it is what Jesus did while there that is the focus of faith: "He preached to the spirits imprisoned there."

The catechism of the Catholic Church puts it this way: "The frequent New Testament affirmations that Jesus was "raised from the dead" presuppose that the crucified one sojourned in the realm of the dead prior to his resurrection. This was the first meaning given in the apostolic preaching to Christ's descent into hell: that Jesus, like all men, experienced death and in his soul joined the others in the realm of the dead. But he descended there as Savior, proclaiming the Good News to the spirits imprisoned there." Those believers who died prior to the Resurrection had no first hand knowledge of Jesus or of the fullness of the salvation he procured through his death and resurrection. After all, according to Scripture, Jesus is the firstborn from among the dead, and it was his descent and proclamation of salvation to those there that enabled him to lead them to eternal life as we understand it. 

This short sentence is the Creed's way of assuring us of the fullness of our salvation. As the old Gospel song puts it, "The love of God is greater far than pen or tongue can ever tell; It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell." I am grateful tonight that there is no place in all creation left untouched by Christ's redemption. And if it reaches to the lowest hell, it surely reaches me and certainly includes you.

Hope

 December 12, 2020

Even in our COVID-conscious world where people are afraid to mingle, small town traditions are thankfully hard to break. Last month at our village board meeting, we discussed whether or not to have our annual Christmas in the park, with Santa, hot chocolate and cider, gifts and cookies for the kids. A number of area municipalities scratched this year’s observance, but we decided that if Santa was willing to come, we would do our best to hold steady. I’m glad we did.

Park church had a live Nativity, we set up for Santa, and he arrived right on time. Parents and their kids lined up, sporting a variety of masks, and we held forth with hot chocolate, hot cider, coffee, and cookies. People hung around in small groups, chatting as they watched the Nativity or waited properly spaced for Santa. The only thing missing this year was Park church’s hot dog and chili dinner at the firehall, but pastor Joe already has ideas about how to bring it back better than ever next year. 

In a year where everything we know has been turned on its head, it’s good to see some things remain. Fortunately, this is true in even more significant ways. This morning I was reading in Psalm 42: “My tears have been my food day and night while they continually say to me, “Where is your God?” When I remember these things, I pour out my soul within me, for I used to go with the multitude; I went with them to the house of God with a voice of joy and praise.” 

The despondency we feel over restrictions and quarantines is. not new to human experience. The writer remembers joyful worship that is no more, and weeps, heartbroken. Then he shifts gears by asking himself, “Why are you cast down, O my soul? Why are you disquieted within me?” It’s almost as if he wakes up and realizes that when life has taken an unexpected turn, dwelling on the past only leads to discouragement and depression, so he shakes himself and changes his focus from the past to the future: “Hope in Go, for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.” He reminds himself that God has not forgotten, so he chooses to praise. Circumstances haven’t changed, but his perspective has. He still cannot gather with others in the house of God, but his own connection with the Lord sustains him.

It’s not an easy stance to take. As an introvert, I never realized how much I depended on others. I can’t imagine how hard things have been for the extroverts. God is pressing me to lean directly on him alone, even when I cannot see the outcome. I have a choice to either mope and gripe or to obey God’s simple command: “Hope in God,” and trust that in doing so, I will again praise him joyfully. 

Mercy

 December 11, 2020

“So the king of Israel went with the king of Judah and the king of Edom, and they marched on that roundabout route seven days; and there was no water for the army, nor for the animals that followed them. And the king of Israel said, “Alas! For the LORD has called these three kings together to deliver them into the hand of Moab.” But Jehoshaphat said, “ Is there no prophet of the LORD here, that we may inquire of the LORD by him?”            —II Kings 3:9-11 

The backstory here starts with Jehoram, Israel’s wicked king, asking Jehoshaphat to join him and the king of Edom in a raid upon Moab, which had thrown off the vassal status they had endured for years. Jehoshaphat was all in. Without consulting advisors or God, he said, “I will go up; I am as you are, my people as your people, my horses as your horses.” —II Kings 3:7 

They ended up wandering in the desert for a week, till they were dehydrated and on the verge of collapse, easy pickings for Moab’s armies. Only when they had reached crisis stage did Jehoshaphat think to ask God about the matter. God graciously intervened for his sake, but it could have ended in disaster. 

There have been way too many times I charged ahead with a plan that seemed good to me, neglecting to pray or even think sensibly about my course of action. I’ve spent money on things that didn’t satisfy, agreed to do things people asked of me that robbed me of my independence and joy, charged headlong into sin because I hadn’t toughened my soul with spiritual disciplines. God has been gracious and like Jehoshaphat, he has delivered me in spite of myself, for which I am deeply grateful. I shudder to think of some of the consequences I might have had to endure had God not brought me up short and diverted the disaster I deserved. The Psalmist said it best: ““Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever.” —Psalms 107:1 NKJV

Unexpected Blessings

 December 10, 2020

It’s been a long day, but one that was a special gift from God. Last Saturday, my two sons had planned on driving to Selinsgrove, PA to buy a truck Nate had found online, but decided to wait so they wouldn’t miss the Bailey Christmas shopping day. We spent a wonderful day buying and wrapping gifts for two families in need, a blessing for them and us. A few days later, Nate asked what I had planned for Thursday. Matt had to work, so I got tapped for the trip.

Both Nate and I have a strong introvertive streak in us, so I wouldn’t have been surprised to have had a rather quiet ride down, but instead, we talked...about life, church, his business, our dreams...it was four hours nonstop conversation that filled and fed my soul. 

Being a bit more cautious about online auto sales than he, I wondered how this would turn out if the dealer happened to be somewhat of a shyster. Nate wasn’t so concerned. He said that on the phone, this guy reminded him of his father in law. Nate asked if he could take some pictures of the undercarriage. “Nope.” No explanation. It took two more calls before the guy said he didn’t do all that technology stuff. That was his son’s department. Nate had done his homework, so he was pretty sure he was getting a good deal.

After four and a half hours, we pulled into this small independent used car dealership. The truck sat out front, looking good, but when we walked through the door into the office, we were confronted by the aroma of stale cigarettes and a rather grimy, cluttered pair of desks manned by a scruffy grey beard and his equally scruffy son, both with big smiles on their faces. It was like stepping back fifty years and walking into Al Cline’s Kendall station in Shinglehouse, PA. 

We talked for a few minutes, Nate shelled out his money, and he and the father left to do the paperwork at the local PA equivalent of the DMV. While they were gone, the son and I talked, and at one point as we were jawing about the impact of COVID lockdowns he casually slipped into the conversation how people without God were so often afraid. Hmm...

Nate and the father returned and we talked some more, with the father casually saying similar things. Pretty soon the father is saying how people without Jesus don’t know where they’re going. “They could walk out the door, get hit by a truck, and not know where they’re going to end up.” When Nate asked if he could pray for them before we left, the father said, “Wait just a minute,” then then mentioned how his wife is part of a prayer ministry and calling her on the phone and asking her to come over to the shop. She walked in, we held hands and prayed together, and they promised to contact their prayer network of 1500 churches to lift up a specific prayer concern Nate had mentioned. 

As we walked out the door, Nate said, “I KNEW this was the right place!” Yes, it was. Driving home, we both were thanking God for some new friends and an unexpected blessing in a very unusual day.

Fixing What I Can

 December 9, 2020

There is a trap of the Enemy into which we are all too prone to fall. It is so insidious and subtle that most of the time we don’t even realize we’ve been caught until we are so ensnared that like a fly caught in a spider’s web, we cannot break free. It begins innocently enough; we look around us and see depravity, evil, and corruption, and are properly offended by it. Whether it be crooked politicians, greedy corporations, or individuals in headlong pursuit of illicit pleasure or gain, we look and are heartbroken by it all. In our prayers, we plead for justice, for the wicked to be judged and the innocent to be vindicated. So far, so good.

The problem arises when we fail to move beyond this sense of righteous indignation. Yesterday I was reading Psalm 7; it captured my mood perfectly.

“Arise, O LORD, in Your anger; 

Lift Yourself up because of the rage of my enemies; 

Rise up for me to the judgment You have commanded!

God is a just judge, 

And God is angry with the wicked every day. 

If he does not turn back, He will sharpen His sword; 

He bends His bow and makes it ready. 

He also prepares for Himself instruments of death; 

He makes His arrows into fiery shafts. 

Behold, the wicked brings forth iniquity;

Yes, he conceives trouble and brings forth falsehood.

“He made a pit and dug it out, 

And has fallen into the ditch which he made.”

His trouble shall return upon his own head, 

And his violent dealing shall come down on his own crown.”

—Psalm 7:6, 11-16 NKJV

I read texts like this, and inside I give a fist pump and shout, “YES, Lord! Give it to them!” In so doing, I end up playing God, usurping the prerogatives he reserves unto himself. What’s worse, there is very little I can do about the evil around me. I can’t fix all that’s wrong in this world, but focusing on its problems blinds me to what God wants to do in me.

This morning in our prayer group, we read Psalm 51 to focus our thoughts. David had been exposed as a rapist and murderer; Psalm 51 is is prayer of repentance. Do you see the contrast? I can focus on what I cannot change, or on what I can, but I cannot do both. If I concern myself only with the sins of the world, I’ll neglect those of my own heart—the only place where I have direct control. Lord knows, there is plenty of work to be done there. Unlike so many people today, when David’s sin became known, he didn’t try to wiggle out of it; he didn’t blame someone else or give excuses. He owned up and simply prayed for God to be merciful to him. As I read through the psalm, I noticed all the things he asked God to do for him. Hear his prayer:

Have mercy on me.

Blot out my transgressions.

Wash me thoroughly.

Cleanse me.

Purge me.

Wash me.

Make me hear joy and gladness.

Blot out my iniquities.

Create in me a clean heart.

Renew a steadfast spirit in me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation.

Uphold me.

Deliver me from guilt.

Open my lips.

Do good.

Build the walls of Jerusalem.

David didn’t play the equalization game; balancing a sin with a good deed. He didn’t compare himself with worse sinners. He confessed his sin and cast himself upon the mercy of God, asking the Lord to do what only he can do.

David got it right, and I would do well to pay attention. If I ask for God to do the same things for me that David asked him to do in his heart, I will have accomplished far more than if I focus on those problems, the sins of others that I cannot fix. So tonight, David’s prayer is mine, too. If God answers, the world will be a better place because my world will be a better place.

Believing, not Seeing

 December 8, 2020

“And Mary said: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.

For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant; 

For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed. 

For He who is mighty has done great things for me, 

And holy is His name. 

And His mercy is on those who fear Him From generation to generation. 

He has shown strength with His arm; 

He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. 

He has put down the mighty from their thrones, 

And exalted the lowly. 

He has filled the hungry with good things, 

And the rich He has sent away empty. 

He has helped His servant Israel, In remembrance of His mercy, 

As He spoke to our fathers, To Abraham and to his seed forever.””

Luke 1:46-55 NKJV

Worship and praise should never be predicated upon our experiences. Too often, when things are going well for us, praise and thanksgiving flow freely from our lips, but when life turns against us, we turn to grumbling. In this scripture, Mary isn’t depending only upon what the angel had announced. If we pay close attention to the verb tenses, we find that Mary looked to the past—the favor God had shown her in choosing her to give birth to the Messiah, but she also looked to the future. She speaks of it as though it had already happened. “He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud; he has put down the mighty; he has exalted the lowly...etc. There is nothing to indicate any of that had actually happened. Even today, we look in vain for evidence that these things have already occurred. Mary however, looked to what she knew God had already accomplished as the foundation for her confidence that what he promised for the future was as good as done.

I read a quote recently: “Talent hits a target no one else can hit. Genius hits a target no one else can see.” Replace ‘genius’ with ‘faith,’ and it becomes even more true. In Mary’s heart, the promise was as good as the accomplishment. 

Because she had experienced great things from God that caused her to trust in even greater things, her “spirit has rejoiced in God [her] Savior.” Her spirit’s rejoicing had already begun, and was continuing to that moment. And because her spirit was rejoicing, her soul could magnify the Lord. The faith within her enabled her soul (the totality of who she was) to magnify God, i.e. to enlarge his reputation before the world. 

It is always thus. We experience the work of God that enables us to trust so completely in his promises that they are as good as done, which results in living in such a way that God is more readily seen by those around us. This scripture challenges me to take the work of God that I have seen and use it as a springboard to believe more completely that what he has promised is as good as accomplished even if I cannot see it with my eyes. In times like today’s, that’s not easy, but it is the challenge of Mary’s Magnificat to all of us.