What do you want Me to do for you?

     I guess I made it a whole week in the New Testament, huh?  Our Gospel story today in Mark is familiar to many.  If anyone asks if you know the story about Blind Bartimaeus, most people recognize the name.  What gets confused are some of the details.  Was he the guy with mud on his eyes?  Is he the one who begged and whose parents make him testify before those in the Temple?  Is Bartimaeus the one who is blind because of sin?  What’s worse, the story is one of those “Synoptic problems.”  Details differ between those relating the story.  Did this occur on the way into Jericho?  On the way out?  The synoptic problem is simply the biblical commentators’ acknowledgement that the stories of Matthew, Mark, and Luke don’t always agree.  We live in a society that is full of Law & Order, NCIS, and all kinds of other criminal shows.  This generation understands that witness testimony often differs on details, which is why forensic evidence is so important in trials.  Human beings tend to pay attention to different things at the same event.

     I was thinking of this yesterday as I left the office.  George and Maxine were swinging by church to place the flowers on the altar as I was heading toward a football game at the house.  We stopped to chat a couple moments.  I asked Maxine if she had her house back in order after the big family visit for the baptism.  Maxine laughed that things still weren’t clean.  Then we shared a laugh about our prospects, Karen and mine, if our kids each just have a couple children.  Finally, George and I talked a little shop about a couple small things at church.  If you were to grab the three of us in, say, a decade, and ask us to recount the encounter, how would we remember it?  George might remember it was a bit of a business visit.  Maxine might remember it as a “I told you so moment.”  I might remember it as a warning.  Whose recollection would be wrong?  We pay attention to details that are important to us; we don’t just record facts.

     In the healing of Batimaeus, Mark is interested in telling other parts of the story than his counterparts Luke and Matthew.  In particular, Mark has been building a Dagwood sandwich worthy of the comic strip character’s name.  Mark will often tell stories with so-called sandwiches and meat.  The meat is the important teaching he wishes to convey within the narrative.  Sometimes, Mark crafts sandwiches within sandwiches within sandwiches.  Such is what is happening in our reading.  Let’s look and feast.

     Events are now progressing rapidly.  Jesus and His disciples are leaving Jericho and headed toward Jerusalem.  We all know how the story ends.  As they are leaving, a blind man named Bartimaeus cries out to Him, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  As many of you know, it was customary for beggars to sit at the gates and beg for alms.  Typically, they spread out the cloak and begged, hoping passerby’s would toss a coin or three onto their cloak.  We might say their cloak was their business or storefront.  Unlike the blind man in the first healing in Mark, though, who remains passive to Jesus, Bartimaeus aggressively seeks healing from Jesus.  Those around the poor blind tell Bartimaeus to be quiet, to quit bothering the rabbi.  But Bartimaeus only gets louder.  Jesus stops and tells the crowd to call Bartimaeus to Him.  Those who moments before were sternly telling the blind man to be quiet are now full of encouragement.  “Take heart; get up, He is calling you.”

     Bartimaeus, Mark says, hopped up and cast aside his cloak and came to Jesus.  Throwing off his cloak is an amazing act in itself.  That was his blanket at night, his wrap during inclement weather, and his source of income by the gates.  We might say it was likely his most valued treasure.  But, at the summons of Jesus, the blind man casts it aside, his only really valued possession, and goes to our Lord.  Compare that to the response of the rich young man or even the Apostles James and John, whose concern is, shall we say, more in line with the world’s thinking than God’s.

     “What do you want me to do for you?”  So often, Jesus asks these words.  So few people give Him the right answer.  Last week, if you read the Gospel while I preached on Job, you might recall that Jesus asks the same question of James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who want to sit at Jesus’ right and left hand when He comes into His glory.  Jesus tells them they do not understand what they are asking.  He will not enter into glory the way they expect.  He will enter into His glory through the Cross, and two thieves have already been prepared to sit at His right and His left.  The Apostles are focus on temporal goods, on power.  Jesus is focused on something far more important.

     Blind Bartimaeus somehow sees Jesus and the focus of His work.  Our first hint was the title he uses to address Jesus.  Others call Him Rabbi or Teacher.  Jesus calls Himself the Son of Man.  Bartimaeus is the first to call Jesus “Son of David” in Mark’s Gospel.  To us, sitting on this side of the Cross and Resurrection, the titles may seem interchangeable, but to 1^st century Jews, the title “Son of David” was equated with God’s Anointed or Messiah.  Somehow, despite the blindness in his eyes, Bartimaeus is able to see Jesus for who He is.  Was it the stories of all the healings?  We do not know.  We only know that a blind man sees Jesus as the Son of David in his midst and capable of the healing for which he so longs!  More amazingly, when pressed by the Son of David what he wants done for him, the man says simply “My teacher, let me see again.”

     As you can see, there is a tremendous irony in the man’s request.  In many ways, the faith of the Apostles is not yet as mature.  The blind man healed at the beginning of this sandwich sees only shadows and figures that look like trees.  Not a few verses later, Mark teaches us how his brother and sister Apostles and disciples saw Jesus.  Some see Jesus as the path to worldly honor and prestige.  Some will see the glory of the Transformation and yet miss the teaching of Jesus of how His glory will be achieved.  At least one will actively oppose His teaching of a suffering servant.  Some will be jealous of their relationship with Jesus, uncomprehending of the fact that one who casts out demons in His name can long oppose Him and His mission.  Some will cast out marginalized children, forgetting that He teaches they must be childlike in their faith.  On and on the list goes.  The disciples sort of get it.  But like the first blindman, they do not see clearly.  None do, until blind Batimaeus.

     And let’s look quickly at the healing.  In healing the first blind man, what does Jesus do?  He makes must with dust and spit.  And, if we want to be careful, we notice that the complete healing does not take place on the first try.  What is required for Him to heal in all His power?  Faith.  Think of your favorite healings.  Those stories which truly speak into our souls are those where Jesus’ power is sought by others.  If I but touch the hem of His cloak . . . Why could we not cast out the demon? . . . And let’s not forget the rich young man who cannot follow Jesus and goes away grieving because he had many possessions.  In whom or what did the rich young man trust?  His wealth.  Over and over again we see Jesus’ power sufficient to meet any need, and over and over again we see examples of those whose faith is strong and able to claim the healing power of Jesus for themselves and others who must spend a bit more time in the presence of the Lord.  And the Apostles clearly fall into this latter group.  As with the Syrophonecian woman and so many others, though, Jesus simply tells Batimaeus to go, his faith has made him well.  Bartimaeus sees what the Apostles, the Pharisees, the Temple priests, and the crowds have missed.  The Son of Man is the Son of David.  Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s covenant with David.

     What do you want me to do for you?  In many ways, I wish this was the assigned reading for next week, Healing Sunday.  But I think its occurrence this week gives us all time to think.  What do we want from Him?  So often, when people approach the altar rail asking for prayers, I ask that question.  I often wonder if we approach the throne of grace confidently.  Do we come to this rail as did the hemorrhaging woman, those little children, Jairus, or even blind Bartimaeus?  Do we come confident in the belief that Jesus is sufficient for any need we might have?  Or are we more like Peter?  Like Paul?  Like James and John?  Or even more like the rich young man?  Do we come with our own conditions, our own baggage, and an unwillingness to trust in the Son of our Father in Heaven who wants only abundance for us?  Or do we come expecting Him to heal us or, if we are like Paul, in need of a thorn in our side to remind us that His power is made perfect in weakness?  Week in and week out we come to this rail, and I wonder what we seek?  What do you want Me to do for you?

     It seems this lesson in Mark, aside from some other more obvious commentary on discipleship, gives us also a bit of lesson about healing.  First of all, we learn that healing does not come easily.  Yes, Mark pays little attention to the miracle itself.  Jesus just cures blind Bartimaeus with a word and adds a commentary to it.  But notice the effort required of Bartimaeus.  When he calls out to Jesus, the crowd tries to silence him.  Rather than listen to the crowd, however, Bartimaeus calls louder.  He risks infuriating those upon whom he is dependent for a living.  He risks a cuffing or assault in which he will possibly never learn the identity of the one striking him.  And he even risks the comfortableness of his surroundings, no matter how unenviable we might think them.  He risks losing his spot and his cloak, both of which are essential for him in this blind condition for scratching out a meager living. 

     Bartimaeus is not alone in Mark’s Gospel.  Jairus must ignore cultural norms and even the mockery of the mourners to see his daughter restored.  The Syrophoenician woman likewise must overcome cultural norms as well as the fact that she is a gentile woman seeking a Rabbi’s help.  The paralytic man’s friends must lift him onto the roof and then dig their way through the thatch and mud so that they can lower him down.  You think the homeowner was not likely to notice the hole after the crowds dispersed?  The hemorrhaging woman fights through the crowd and then dares to answer Jesus in full view of the crowd when confronted by His question.  The list goes on and on.  Many of those in Mark’s narrative must display incredible persistence seeking the healing they desire.  How often do we, though, give up on Jesus because of the crowd around us?  How many times do we hear the God does not work that way any more and live as if such testimonies are truer than God’s Word?  How many times do we tell ourselves Well, I asked once, I guess that is a “no?”  Heck, how many of us ask for the wrong thing when we find ourselves in Bartimaeus’ position?  How many of us truly know what we desire or need?

     The second lesson regarding healing in Mark’s narrative is the requirement that one must go to Jesus for healing.  It makes sense to us as Christians.  The Son of Man is the Son of David is the Son of God.  But in this world in which we live, how often are we told that real healing is to be found in the care of doctors, of mental health professionals, or in crystals, or in some channeling of the universe’s life force, or some other idol?  Either Jesus is who He says He is or He is not.  Either He is the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham, of God’s grace, and of all that He revealed in Scripture, or He is not.  We live in a pluralistic age that likes to confuse us, that likes to convince us that truth is relative, that there are any number of paths to the same destination.  Part of Mark’s testimony is that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the light.  Jesus is the God incarnate/Man divine.  More importantly, He lived the life the Father asked of Him.  And for that obedience He was raised from the dead as proof of the testimonies He gave us.  How do we know Messiah came otherwise?  Yet how often are we too quick to seek anyone and anything but the One who promised to redeem all things in our lives?  How embarrassed are we to speak our need to the One who seeks and knows our hearts?

     Those of us watching the story unfold might think Jesus’ question is out of place. If He knows what I need, why ask?  For all His grandeur and glory God desires that we choose to follow Him.  God always gives us a choice to follow or reject.  More amazingly, when we realize we have rejected, He sent His Son so that we could simply repent and try again!  But God always gives us a choice.  It does not matter whether it is you or me, our neighbor, our co-worker, Jonah, Paul, Peter, the Syrophoenician woman, or any other character you admire in Scripture or life.  Everyone has a choice.  Bartimaeus’ answer stands in contrast with those who do not choose correctly.  The rich young man goes away grieving because he had many possessions.  James and John are thinking only in terms of worldly power.  Bartimaeus, though blind, sees clearly who Jesus is and what He offers!  And He readily accepts the opportunity.

     The third lesson that we get in the story is the reminder that there may not be a next time.  I was advised, when I proposed starting a healing service at Advent, that many of us would be loathe to come forward for healing for any number of reasons.  I must say, I listened to the Advent crowds and found my expectations lowered.  But the response of those who have come forward, as well as that of Bartimaeus, reminds us that there may not be a next time.  What if Bartimaeus had decided, “I will wait until Jesus comes back this way and ask to gain my sight?”  This is Jesus’ last pass through of Jericho.  What if Bartimaeus had waited?  Similarly, what if today or next week or next month is the time that God has set that appointment for you or for me?  What do you want me to do for you?  What if we meekly say nothing and keep to our current condition?

     Lastly, the healing requires a response.  Bartimaeus does not simply go back and sit by the road.  The healing is something too joyful for him to contain.  So, what does he do?  He casts aside everything and follows Jesus.  He follows Jesus on this journey that will end in a few short chapters.  He follows Jesus on this road that leads to Calvary.  Unlike those so far in the story, He follows Jesus wherever He leads.  What if Jesus answered our prayer?  How would we react?  Would we be another of those who testified to His saving and healing grace?  Or would we do our best to slip back into the crowd and live the life we have chosen?

     I know I have been a bit heavy today.  I can feel it.  My job and my intention is always to afflict us where we are comfortable and to comfort us where we are afflicted.  Perhaps, sitting here this morning listening to me drone on, you have recognized times in your life where the crowd has gotten the better of your determination, where you realize that you have treated Jesus as if he was of secondary or tertiary importance in your healing, or where you feel like you gave the Lord the wrong answer.  Maybe as the week goes along and the seeds I have planted germinate, such will be the places in your mind to which you turn.  Two things you need to hear: (1) Even if you have missed an opportunity, that was not the last time He was passing through your life.  Each moment you live, each moment you breathe, you have another opportunity to ask for the healing you need.  Next week, we will live that request more intentionally, but such answers can be given at any time.  (2) If you have forgotten who Jesus is, if you have been seduced by the world, you stand in good stead.  You stand in the company of none other than the Apostles and disciples who accompanied Jesus!  And just as His grace and love and forgiveness made them into the men and women we admire from afar, so is His grace and love and forgiveness capable of transforming each one of us into a Bartimaeus of this place and this time!  What do you want Me to do for you?  That, brothers and sisters, is the question before us all, this day and every day.

Peace,

Brian†

Seeking the Friend in the whirlwind . . .

     I have heard rumblings that I am a bit aloof or distant, that for my whole nine months with you, some people feel as if they do not yet know me well.  First, let me say that works in reverse.  I do not yet know all of you well either.  I am beginning to get to know some of you, but I think we are all only scratching the surface when it comes to learning about one another so far.  Second, and of far more importance to me, I want to say “good.”  More than one person has grumbled to me that I need to spend more time talking about me, especially during the sermon.  The sermon is not the place to learn about me.  The sermon is not the place that I am supposed to talk about me.  I will meet you in my office, over coffee or drinks, or even for a meal and answer your questions until you are convinced the Vestry made a mistake calling me, but I try to avoid me as the subject in the sermons.  The reason is simple, but Bishop John reminded me of its importance during my discernment period last year.  I am not here to build a cult of personality.  I am here to participate in the life of a group of people called to glorify God in worship and service of others in our community.  Put in stark language: if you are placing your faith in me, Brian your priest, you will be sorely disappointed in the future, if you not are already.  If you are placing your faith in God through Christ, then you are guaranteed that, at some point, you will see God face to face and know all that you have suffered, even those disappointments at the hands of all your clergy, will have been redeemed.

     That being said, today you get to sit back and get ready for a possibly hours long sermon.  I see that got your attention.  I’m kidding.  I understand that the Titans play at noon.  I would never dare to interfere in our love of all things football.  But, I will warn you, many of you for the first time, that Job is one of my most favorite books in the Bible.  It was also the subject of one of my Master’s thesis and oral defenses at the University of Dallas.  You might say I did an extensive Bible Study of this book, led gently by a Cistercian monk.  I love when I preach on Job because I feel like I have already done a great deal of the prep work in a galaxy far away and a long time ago.

     Job is an incredibly rich book.  I wish we spent more time reading the book in the lectionary because it speaks to one of the angsts of Christian life.  For those who do not yet know the story, Job is described in the beginning of the book as a righteous man.  The one who describes Job is none other than God Himself.  How would you like to be judged today by God as righteous?  If you have not read the story, God speaks of Job’s faithfulness to none other than Satan, who has been going to and fro around the earth.  Pretty cool idea, is it not?  God telling Satan that a person is righteous.

      Satan, for his part, rejects God’s judgment of Job.  In effect, he tells God that Job is righteous because Job is rich.  Since Job lacks for nothing, Job can afford to be righteous.  God, of course, sees the heart.  He tells Satan that he can mess with anything external to Job.  So, Satan has all the livestock killed or plundered and calls up a great storm to collapse the family house and kill the entire family.  We are told that, in all this calamity, Job did not sin.

     Fast forward to Satan and God’s next discussion.  God points out how Job did not sin, even absent the accoutrements of wealth and the loss of his family.  Satan says that Job still has his health, so, of course, he still worships God.  Again, God, who sees the heart, gives Job over to the power of Satan with the limitation of sparing Job’s life.  Satan torments Job by giving him an extreme leprosy of sorts.  Job has itchy boils and scabs and is miserable.  Still, we are told, Job does not sin.

     It is at this point that the holy rollers enter the picture.  We are, of course, speaking before Jesus’ ministry, so these men who approach Job are not Christians.  But they, like Job, claim to love God.  At first, they sit in silence with Job and mourn his losses.  Then, in what we know is an effort to “help” Job, the men begin to encourage Job to repent of the horrible sin that has earned the wrath of God.  Job, the one judged by God as righteous, rightly claims he is righteous.  He has not defrauded anyone, he has not gossiped, he has given his choicest to God.  Job has done everything within his power to do as God commands.

     We see this play out all the time in modern churches.  The worst example I can recall was at a snake-handling church I attended in north central WV as a kid.  A few weeks before our class visit, an elderly lady was bitten by a copperhead or rattler and died.  Everyone mourned her death.  They mourned her death not because she was gone, but because she had clearly failed to repent of her sin since God had let her die.  They wondered how she could appear so righteous on the outside for so long, and so rotted on the inside.  You can probably think of more common examples.  Like as not, you may have received those kinds of people and their advice in your own hurts and miseries.  Heck, you may have played the role of the friends in someone else’s life.

     The friends respond with the good ole “sure you have.”  They entreat Job to look around and to see the consequence of his sin.  The more that Job protests his innocence, the more they use his circumstances to prove his guilt.  We understand this logic, don’t we?  We really only need God when something is wrong.  So long as we can pay our bills, have good health, are in no bad relationships, we believe that we are favored by God.  Put a little more bluntly, we like to think our material blessings signify our relationship with God.  How do I know I have a better relationship with God than my neighbor?  Because He makes sure I have whatever I need while my neighbor suffers!  How do I know I have a better relationship with God than my friend?  Because, bless her heart, that storm cloud follows her in whatever she does.

     You are laughing, but we know people who like to judge their relationship with God based on the circumstances of life.  Heck, some of us do as well.  I always go nuts when I hear that attitude expressed to prospective Christians during efforts to evangelize.  If you’ll just give your heart to Jesus, He will make everything right.  You won’t want for nothing.  He will heal your diseases.  He will provide you with all that you need.  When we or others say that nonsense, think of the harm done to the person coming to faith.  I won’t ask for a show of hands, but how many of us who believe in Jesus have broken family relationships?  Issues of provision?  Suffer significant health ailments?  Experience bad luck?  I always remind people newer to the faith that our Lord was rejected, tortured, and killed.  We are called to pick up our cross and follow Him.  If God allowed those events to happen to His only begotten Son, what might He allow to happen to those He adopted?  It is not that God is mean or that He loves us any less; it is that He has chosen to work through suffering to redeem us.  Suffering reminds us of our own inadequacies, our own impotence, our own lack of understanding, of our real dependence upon Him.

     The whole book of Job exists to remind God’s people that our life’s circumstances in no way reflects our relationship with God.  Job praises God in the good and the bad, just as God knew that he would.  Bildad, and later Elihu, two of Job’s “friends,” are adamant that suffering leads the sinful back to God.  Theirs is a vapid theology, a theology that will still be hanging around when Jesus walks the earth (Lord, was this man’s blindness caused by his sin or that of his parents?), and is still with us today.  Their attitude speaks to another loss that Job has endured, one that we do not often get.  As a rich man with a happy family, Job is accorded tremendous respect.  As shown by his friends’ counsel, though, Job’s circumstance has caused them to be anything but a friend.  In fact, although Job insists he is the same man as the day before, they refuse to accept his testimony.  Respect among his friends was truly fleeting.  Elihu, in the chapters before our reading today, launches into what he thinks is a wonderful soliloquy about God.  God rewards the just.  God punishes the wicked.  Sometimes God punishes so that the wicked will turn to Him.  It is really that simple, according to Elihu.  God, of course, disagrees with Elihu.

     Throughout the book, Job has longed for an advocate.  He has desired a courtroom setting so that he could present his case to God.  Whether arguing with his wife, his friends, or even himself, Job knows he has not sinned.  If his suffering is punishment, then he is suffering unjustly and wants to take his case up with God.  Now, after Elihu’s rant, God appears out of the whirlwind and thundering with sarcasm.  Were you there when the morning stars sang together?  Were you there when I laid the foundation of the earth?  Can you play with behemoth and toy with Leviathan?  Elihu cannot answer these questions that are put to him in rapid fire succession.  Before Job, Elihu and the others have claimed to know God’s inscrutable motivations and actions.  And God, answering Job’s claim for an advocate, shows them how vapid their understanding of Him really is and how bad their counsel was to Job.

     God is, of course, not done after dealing with Elihu and the others.  He turns His focus upon Job and instructs Job to gird up his loins and answer Him.  Job, of course, realizes now, in the presence of holiness and righteousness, that he is mortal.  I am of small account; what shall I answer You.  Some commentators like to argue that God just thunders away in this book.  From their perspective, God is the ultimate windbag.  Because He did all these things, He seems to think we should never question Him or His motives.  Again, notice that God never claims that Job is unrighteous.  If suffering was supposed to be a sign of wickedness or broken relationship with God, then Job rightly understood his punishment to be wrong.  Job’s struggle is real.  Better still, Job’s struggle is accepted by God.  But, if carried to its logical end in those terms, in order for Job to be vindicated, God would have to be placed in the wrong.  Job never accuses God of being evil.  He never sins against God despite all the ridiculous advice of his “friends.”  Job finds himself between a rock and hard place.  God is good, but so is he.  How can his situation be explained in light of those two understandings?  Now Job, and we, needs to rethink his understanding of material circumstances and one’s relationship to God.  To use Job’s words after God’s instruction, he spoke of things too wonderful for him to completely understand.  He sees now what he had only heard.

     Of course, even in that seeing, Job still does not get the complete picture.  God does not tell Job why his farm was destroyed, why his family was killed, and why he lost his health.  Job never hears that his suffering was the focus of Satan’s efforts to turn him from God and that God knew his heart, knew that his servant Job would not turn aside.  Job only learns that his suffering was not related to his standing before God.  We as readers and hearers of the story, know the background.  But Job is kept in the dark.

     One last note on the story.  God’s wrath is so kindled against the four friends of Job that he tells them He will not accept an offering from them.  Can you imagine that conversation?  As wonderful as it would be to imagine God telling Satan that we are righteous and faithful, it would be terrifying to hear God say to us that He will not accept our prayers and offerings.  In a note that hints at the redemptive suffering of Jesus, God tells the friends to take the bulls and rams to Job.  God says that Job will intercede on their behalf, and He will accept the offering and prayers on account of Job.  Not unsurprisingly, Job offers the sacrifices and prayer for his friends who wronged him, reminding us one last time that God’s judgment of His servant Job was correct.

     Why do the righteous suffer?  Worse, why do the wicked seem so often to prosper?  It is a question that is left unaddressed in the book of Job.  Our passage for today’s reading clearly hearkens us back to the beginning of the Bible.  Those who have been in the Genesis Bible Study cannot help but be reminded of the imagery the read a couple months ago.  But is the thrust of God’s answer simply, I am God and you are not?  No.  Job has stumbled onto the seeming chaos of his worldview or his perspective.  Like many of his time, Job believed that the righteous were rewarded while the wicked were punished.  Certainly, that was a promise of God’s.  But God did not promise that every single moment of every single day of every single week of every single month . . . you get the picture.  God, I think, takes Job back to the beginning to remind Job and us that He is the God who brings order to chaos.  God reminds Job and us that He need only speak, and the stars, the planets, and all that is jumps to obey Him.  One day, that Day of the Lord, all things will be set right.  But today is not really that day.  Job gets more than the answers that he seeks; Job learns he has not been asking the right questions.  Job learns one additional significant item: he does not face calamity or chaos alone.  The friend that he so longs for to advocate on his behalf has appeared to him out of the whirlwind.  That Job’s life might seem insignificant when compared with earth’s foundations or the singing of stars is not the understanding of Job.  Job now understands the Lord is none other than the friend he has been seeking during his suffering.

     How that applies to us, I think, is obvious.  Looking around this group gathered here today, I am aware of some significant suffering.  My guess is, as we get to know one another in the months and years ahead, I will become aware of even more suffering.  Suffering is terrible.  The Bible never takes suffering lightly, and we would do well as God’s people never to take our suffering or the suffering of others lightly either.  But held out against the chaos and suffering of our life that the God who created all things, the God who made all that is, seen and unseen, will be the One whom we see face to face as a friend, when that glorious day is upon us!  Better still, that friend, that Lord, has promised that He will redeem all things in our lives.  There will be no melancholy, there will be no sadness, there will be no wrath on our parts, there will be no tears.  He who spoke order into chaos will speak healing into us, and we who claim Him as Lord, will share forever in His eternal glory!

     Brothers and sisters, I know there is terrible suffering in some of your lives.  I know that some of you believe yours is of the “garden variety” kind.  Like you and me in our situations, Job would never have been satisfied with a philosophical explanation of his new poverty and destroyed family.  How can we accept philosophically some of the struggles we have faced?  We and he want only to know that God is there, that He still cares for us, and that He has not given up on us because of our sins and failures or because of the seeming chaos of the world.  We have that best reminder, of course, in the face of our Lord Christ, who walked a greater path of suffering, that we might know our path, one day, will end, and that the crosses we have born for His glory will be exchanged for that “well done” blessing He has promised to all who continue in Him.  One day, we will see Him clearly, not in the whirlwind, but with outstretched arms proclaiming to the Father that “this one is mine, too.”  Then, and only then, will our suffering begin to make sense.  Then, and only then, will we be completely healed.  Then, and only then, will the answers we and Job seek be truly found.

Peace,

Brian†