On wrestling and redemption and trust . . .

     Last week, we began our once every six year reading of Job.  I had to explain that a few times this past week in conversations, so here’s why it’s once every six years: We rotate through the lectionary every three years.  We have a choice between the “history” track and the “prophetic” track.  In an effort to expose Adventers to as much of the Bible as possible, I rotate the tracks.  That means when these readings come up again in 2021, we will be looking at the prophet Amos rather than Job’s bitter complaint.  Of course, conversations this week make me think we should do Job WAY more than we do.  And some Adventers have asked if I’d consider us doing a class on Job or asking Larry to do it.  Who knew in the blessed land of Brentwood there was bitter complaining, unjust suffering, sometimes a lack of perspective, and that God was aware of all of it, not just aware, but engaging it?!

     Our story continues this week some twenty chapters later.  In many ways, the story has not advanced too much.  Job remains faithful to God despite the leprosy curse of Satan and the temptations of his wife.  To catch you up in the story, Satan returns to the courtroom setting of chapter 1 and 2.  God points out Job’s faithfulness to Satan once again.  Once again, Satan claims that Job only worships God because God has blessed Job with wealth and family.  God knows better, and He tells Satan he must spare Job’s life.  A bit too simultaneously for many folks, a tornado or whirlwind hits the farmhouse and kills Job’s family—his foolish wife and his ten children for whom he made sacrifice every day in case they sinned against God in their hearts and a foreign army finds itself in the area killing the servants and stealing Job’s flocks.  Quite literally, Job is left with nothing.  He mourns in the ashes.

     It turns out, of course, that Job has lost even more.  His best friends hear of Job’s affliction and come to comfort him.  It is here that we get our most important pastoral lesson of the day.  Job has lost everything, everything that he values and counts as a blessing from God.  How do his friends respond?  At first, they take the warning of Mark Twain to heart.  We all know it.  It is better to appear pastorally sensitive and remain silent rather than speak and show oneself to be a fool.  I know, Mr. Twain’s warning was about intelligence and stupidity, but the warning fits.  For a full week they sit in silence.  For a full week they minister well to their friend who is suffering greatly.

      Then comes the speaking and we learn they are “that” kind of friend.  You know the one, the one who means well and is made uncomfortable by silence, the one who thinks God needs them to defend Him and His actions or inactions, the one who tells us that God needed another angel when a child is taken from us, the one who tells us that our loved one is better off now that they are dead and no longer suffering, the one who likes to remind us that they made it through this exact same darkness that was so much worse.  We all have those friends in our lives.  Don’t be that friend.  There are enough of them around.  Be a true friend, and don’t be afraid of silence.  We serve a God who speaks in still, small whispers.  Sometimes the silence allows us or the ones suffering to hear Him better, to realize that He really is with us, that He really is in the business of redemptive suffering.

     I know silence makes us terribly uncomfortable.  But sometimes, it’s the best we can do.  This world does not function the way God ordered it in the beginning.  It has been cursed by our sins.  It groans under the weight of our sins.  Sometimes there are no easy answers or quick fixes.  Sometimes there is no wisdom immediately perceivable.  And all our efforts to fill the silence sound vapid or, worse, insensitive.  Think I’m wrong?  How do people respond to “Thoughts and prayers”?  The phrase has become a derisive calling card in the world that references Christians.  I think rightly so.  Do we really pray for all those folks for whom we say or post that?  Do thoughts and prayers really speak into a situation?  I mean, if they are hungry, should we not be feeding them?  If they lack clothes, should we not be clothing them?  If they are in prison, should we not be visiting them?  Thoughts and prayers should be reserved for the situations like Job’s, where we really need to pray to God to discern what is happening or what to do about it.

     I was admonished a bit by those at 8am for not having some sermon illustrations to for the Job-like events of life.  I did.  I had many.  Unfortunately, the most recent ones all involved Adventers and I had not gotten permission to share any of them with the congregation.  It was clear, though, that I needed to speak about the acceptability of silence, of profound, lengthy, mourning silence.  So I shared with them an example and then asked “like that?”  Truthfully, they were overwhelmed.  As they should have been.  As Job is in our reading today.

     Some of you know more details of the following story.  I have shared it with various groups and individuals over the last four years.  In seminary, we had a fantastic small group.  To this day we still each can call one another out, offer encouragement, be a safe place to express our double mantle of sarcasm, or whatever we need.  Part of that tightness was forged by fire.  In seminary there was a baby boom.  It often happens as there is not much else to do to entertain oneself when one is a poor seminarian.  Two men in my group, Bryan and Scott, learned they were pregnant with their first child, as Paul and I learned our wives were pregnant with our fifth.    Most of our amusement was focused on Bryan.  In many ways he had never grown up.  We were laughing hysterically at the thought of him being a parent.  Scott was far more introverted and somber.  We knew he would adjust.  Paul and I were going through that “How in the hell are we going to make this work?” phase.  We had four kids each.  We were in a zone defense with our wives.  A fifth meant we’d have to switch to a prevent defense.  And, there was the problem of a child being born in Ambridge.  We had had to teach our kids to come get us when they found syringes on the ground and to run inside when they heard big bangs and never ever to accept anything offered by anyone other than mom or dad.  Kids would find things and offer to share.

     Everything was what you might expect in a close knit group.  Each of us were able to speak honestly about our fears and excitements.  On those rare occasions where we did not, the others in the group called us out on our bs (skubala, for those who prefer me to speak theologically rather than earthily).  Then came the ultrasound.  Scott and Sarah’s son, Josiah, was shown to have anencephaly.  Doctors went through the prognosis and options.  Many of you are in healthcare so you know these conversations, and I see the nods.  Scott and Sarah decided to see the pregnancy through.  Josiah was born and lived only a few minutes. 

     David, whom you all know and love, well, know in any event, was born to us during a snowstorm prior to Josiah’s birth and death.  Bryan, David’s Godfather, was kind enough to cover church for me that morning—he gets to share how he drove uphill through a blizzard both ways to cover church so David could be corn, and he’s telling the truth!  Paul and Kristti had their fifth, and it was uneventful.  I can’t remember whether Paul and Kristti had their fifth by the time Josiah was buried.  I know we had lots of painful conversations in the community regarding whether it was “proper” for us to be at the funeral, or Karen since I participated in it, with a newborn in such circumstances, as if Karen had not asked Sarah and I had not asked Scott.

     You can all imagine those conversations.  I thought I was done with diapers.  Here I was changing diapers again.  Finances were way more challenging now.  Paul had similar issues.  Scott had lost his firstborn son.  We had grief and survivor grief and angst enshrouding us, but we were well covered in prayer.  Conversations were sometimes hard and awkward, but understandably so.

     Then came the call!  Bryan and Lisa were off to the hospital right after his graduation.  Those of us gathered post-graduation were telling our favorite “can’t wait’s.”  Some could not wait to see Bryan with his first exploding diaper.  Others were giggling at the thought of spit-up running down the back of the neck.  A few worried he might take baby rock climbing or trail running with him.  All of us worried for Lisa.  Now she’d have two infants for which to care!  Lol  Then came the next call.  Samuel had died at birth, and Lisa nearly had.

     Our small group took off for the hospital.  We reconvened there, and none of us had anything to say.  The doctor was clearly in shock.  He had no answers, no excuses.  It bugged him to the point that he later presented Samuel at three different M & M’s that we knew of, seeking an explanation.  As far as doctors could tell, no one missed anything.  For him, that made things worse.  He was in the practice that handled most of those fourteen births at our seminary.  He dealt with us all on different levels.  There had to be a reason.  When we finally arrived at sin, that death was the ultimate consequence of sin, it drove him nuts.  As a doctor, as an OB, he was a bringer of life into the world.  It’s probably not too much to say that he had to do some reconciling with his faith and with his profession, that after all this he came to appreciate the gift of bringing life into the world all the more.

     But back to the hospital.  You all have met Bryan a couple years ago—Captain Underpants.  What could you say to him in that situation?  You know how happy and outgoing and optimistic he is.  What words would bring him comfort?  What words would help him console his wife?  There was a lot of silence and a lot of prayer.  We had nothing to offer.  No comfort.  No solace.  None of us were stupid enough to suggest that God needed another angel.  None of us were foolish enough to remind Bryan that Samuel’s death was part of God’s plan.  None of us would have ever told Bryan that Samuel was better off where he was now.  We had nothing.  When Bryan cried the anguished “Why?,” we were like Job’s friends and could give no answers and just sat in silence, occasionally offering hugs.

     Again, we buried an infant in our small group in the midst of a seminary community.  Again, we had to proclaim life eternal and hope in the midst of incredible pain, unimaginable loss, and soul-crushing sorrow.  Much like Peter at the end of John’s Gospel lesson a couple weeks ago or even Shadrack, Meeshack, and Abinego, we had no where else to go, no One else to Whom to point others than God, who promises to redeem all things, even that kind of suffering.

     I will not share with you all the conversations in this sermon.  Given the silence, that’s probably a good thing.  Many of you have experienced similar pain or loss in your own lives.  Some of you have shared those stories with me.  You know the emotions; you know the conversations.

     Those who have lived through such loss, however, experience the significant change that does happen in Job today.  I said in many ways our story has not changed in twenty chapters.  In most ways, that is true.  Job has lost everything.  His friends think he has sinned and that God is punishing him for his intransigence.  Job knows he has done nothing wrong.  Job’s complaint is bitter.  God is nowhere to be found.  All he longs for is the opportunity to ask God the question of why.  And so begins the wrestling match that helps cement the decedents of Abraham, and Jacob especially, as Israel, as the people who wrestle with or contend with God!  The friends see Job’s loss of health, family, wealth, and reputation and judge those as the benefits of a righteous relationship with God.  Job just wants to know God is there, that God understands his loss and pain, that he is not alone in his suffering.

     Make no mistake, Job wants to argue his case.  He knows he has not sinned.  Heck, he knows he has made extra sacrifices on behalf of his children.  Much like Paul later, Job understands himself to be righteous under the torah.  Still, that certainty is cold comfort when one is losing everything, isn’t it?  You and I know ourselves to be loved by God, to be redeemed by the work and person of His Son, yet how alone do we feel when we suffer?  How often do we wish we could make our case before God and prove ourselves before Him?  Or, better still, how often do we wish that He would simply explain Himself to us?  How does my suffering, how does your suffering, fit into His plan of salvation?  How does cancer, how does pain, how does all of this glorify You, Lord?  It is not for no reason that I often pray over you all for eyes to see and ears to hear how your suffering glorifies Him!  I think we can often bear a lot, so long as we know our Father is watching, our Father is paying attention.  If we know He is observing, we can put up with a great deal of suffering.  It’s that fear that Daddy is not watching that scares us, that we are outside His attention span or, worse, ability to redeem.  And Job today reminds us that it’s ok to feel that way and to ask God to make Himself known around us!  It is ok for us to wrestle with God and ask Him to make our lives make sense.  Maybe He will.  More often than not, though, He does not.

     Adventers will come to me, as have other parishioners in other parishes asking why God did not answer or show Himself better in their lives.  I don’t know.  Often, I suspect that if we knew completely what was in store for us, many of us would turn aside.  Had I known in the beginning of our pregnancy with David the impending deaths of Josiah and Samuel, would I have expressed my fears to my friends about God’s provision?  I doubt it.  I am certain I would not have entered the fight against human trafficking if I knew everything that would happen in that work.  The good has been great, but the bad has been diabolical.  Sometimes, as I work through life events with those in my care, I even wonder whether I would have obeyed God and accepted the call.  It’s hard.  And I’m the professional Christian among you!  I have more training; I have more study; I have way more experience.  Still, it is hard!  How much harder is it for you in your valleys?  How hard was it for Job?  I hope each of you realizes that Job never finds out from God why he suffers.  Job is given a new family and more wealth and is told by God to intercede on behalf of his friends because He will not accept their sacrifice.  Job even gets to contend directly with God!  But never does he learn the reason for his suffering; never does he learn that God was demonstrating to Satan that God knew Job loved God faithfully.  Would Job have been willing to suffer as an object lesson for Satan?  Would Job have the same love and determination for Satan that God did as the Creator?  We don’t know.

     Of course, you and I have another advantage.  We know Job’s ultimate prayer has been answered.  Our Advocator, Jesus Christ, has come down from heaven, died, and was buried, and on the third day raised from the dead that we might live eternally with God!  God has taught us once and for all that He knows our sufferings, our fears, even our worry about our loneliness in ways that we can truly never comprehend!  And we have all learned how much God loves each one of us.  He died for each and every one of us!  And so we face the diseases and deaths of our lives; we face the brokenness of our relationships, we face the failures of our plans or efforts knowing that God can and will redeem all things because such is His love for us and for His Son, Whom He sees in each one of us baptized into His death and promised a glorious share in His Resurrection!  And like any good family, we are given permission, blessing, even to wrestle.

     I half-joked a moment ago about Job earning the name of his patriarch, Jacob.  Israel means contend with or wrestle with God.  Though Job’s circumstances have not changed, the shift in his relationship with God has.  Job no longer speaks about God but, rather, desires or longs to argue with God.  He address shifts from talks about God to conversation with God.  And though to some Job complaints may sound bitter or accusatory or any number of other descriptions that make us uncomfortable, God is not offended!  Of all of humanity God chose Job to witness to Satan!  Of all of humanity, God describes Job as righteous.  God knew Job’s heart and was not surprised at all by Job’s faithfulness; nor was He offended by Job’s desire to confront the Lord and ask why.  True, God does not answer Job’s questions as Job may have wanted when this conversation began, but Job is at peace by the end of his conversation with God and trusts that God will be God.

     God being God, of course, means redemption will abound!  We prayed this morning that God’s grace may always precede and follow us, in part, because we know how hard this life is.  Were God’s grace not surrounding us, imagine how much hard this life would be!  If we could not look expectantly to redemption, how hopeless and vain would our lives truly be!

     I shared a terribly dark and difficult story with all of you this morning.  Some of you have walked similar roads in your own lives; some of you have walked even more difficult roads in your life journeys.  I wish we were all comfortable enough to share.  I wish I could point out some of those stories and share with one another how God has been at work in those messes.  Alas, we are not there yet.  But in that same vein, I should lead you to the empty tomb in the story I shared.  Both Scott & Sarah and Bryan & Lisa have children today.  They have each experienced some of those fears and worries and joys and frustrations that we parents shared with them before all that happened.  And like Job, despite the joy of wonderful children, there remains a dark spot, a tempering on their joy.  One beloved child is missing from their respective brood!

     Yet even that sadness has been tempered by God.  By virtue of their experience, Scott & Sarah have been invited into a number of groups and families to discuss their experience and decisions and rationales with other parents who are to give birth to a child with anencephaly.  Their conversations, their heartfelt testimony, has served any number of other couples in ways we cannot begin to recount.  And so, both realize that even though their son is not with him, his life and death has had a tremendous impact on others who never knew him.

     Bryan & Lisa’s story is equally redemptive.  There is a website out there called Mystery Worshipper.  Folks go to different churches and describe the church services.  Think of it as a precursor to Yelp reviews, except that the mystery worshippers only evaluate services in their tradition.  Baptists evaluate Baptist services; Roman Catholics evaluate Roman Catholic services; Episcopalians evaluate Episcopal services.  I mentioned that we had a memorial service for Samuel.  The Burial service was held at the Bywater’s sending parish in Tariffville, CT.  As God would have it, the Mystery Worshipper showed up the day they celebrated the brief life of Samuel and the promises that God makes to all His people.  The report is probably online for those who want to read it, but the Mystery worshipper was clearly blown away by Bryan holding the Paschal candle reciting the introduction “I am Resurrection and I am Life;” by the preacher, who began with Deuteronomy 29 and the secret things belong to the Lord our God and then grounded the congregations hope in God through Christ; by the little white urn that contained the baby’s ashes, and by the congregation’s singing of “Jesus loves Me.”  So powerful was the service and so palpable the care of the congregation  that the reporter was moved to tears that God had promised and would redeem even this!  In some ways, He already has.

     Of course, those of us who have experienced the death of a loved one in our lives realize the complete redemption has not yet occurred.  We may have experienced small redemptions like the families I described this morning.  But the final redemption is yet to come.  That, of course, will occur after we see our Redeemer face to face as the friend for Whom Job longed and we are invited into the inheritance which our Lord has prepared for us since the foundation of the world!  Until then, until that glorious Day, our Lord simply invites us to enter into relationship with Him, to wrestle with Him, to struggle with the pain and suffering of the world, trusting that in the end He will redeem it all, knowing that all this pain, all this struggle, whether our own or that like Job’s, will be so overwhelmed by the glory of the redemption, that we will not even be tempted to shed a tear!

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian†