September 30, 2018
Some years ago, there was a political issue in Madison coming up for a vote. I had spent a lot of time thinking about it. It was very clear to me what the best option was, and I couldn’t really believe that the vote would go another way. As the time of the election approached, though, I realized that it may not go the way I thought it would.
I said to myself, “Chris, not everybody thinks like you do.”
I told this to my wife. She looked at me and said, “Chris, nobody thinks like you do!”
So, in responding to your questions, I just want you to know that I sometimes have peculiar ways of thinking about things. If you don’t quite understand what I’m getting at, it may be me and not you!
I received a wonderful bundle of questions following last week’s invitation. As I said last week, I’m not going to be able to get to all of them today.
There are some questions about the second coming of Christ, the end of time and even the end of one’s own life that I’m going to leave for Christ the King Sunday or the First Sunday in Advent. There are questions about prayer and about personal spiritual life that I’m going to leave until October 14, when, in the gospel reading for that day, Jesus says, “With God all things are possible.” And there are a number of miscellaneous questions, I’m not sure how or when I’ll get to. If at some point, you don’t think I’ve addressed your question (or addressed it in a way that you understand!) please feel free to contact me.
The question I’m going to take up first grows out of the story I told last week about my son, Peter – that he didn’t believe in God because there were no dinosaurs in the Bible. This person wondered if perhaps dinosaurs were actually known about but denied, consciously left out of the Bible story, perhaps because the existence of dinosaurs themselves contradicts the belief in a creator God.
Dinosaurs didn’t come into the human imagination until the 19th century, so I don’t think it’s possible that they were simply overlooked. The writers of the Bible wrote with the understanding of the universe that they had, that was common at the time – which didn’t include dinosaurs, but which did include a “firmament,” or a “dome.” This is mentioned not only in Genesis 1, but also in the earlier verses of Psalm 19, our psalm for today.
In the midst of the waters of chaos, God made a space for creation – a firmament. God pushed the waters back and secured them in place with a dome, so that life on earth could happen. Why is the sky blue? Because that’s water up there. That’s the understanding that they had. It’s not our understanding.
The Bible, I believe, is not so interested in the “how” of creation and far more interested in the “Who” of creation. And that’s the bottom line for me. No matter how the universe came to be, no matter how life appeared on this planet, God was behind it.
In 100 years or in 1000 years, people are likely to understand the origin of life in the universe much differently than we do now. They may even look back and think, “What were they thinking back in 2018? Didn’t they know about…” Even then, my conviction will remain the same: No matter how the universe happened, God was behind it.
This question raises the issue of the trustworthiness of the Bible. Along with the question of trustworthiness is also the question of authority. What is the authority of the Scriptures?
Some assert the authority of the Bible by quoting II Timothy 3:16 – “All scripture is inspired by God.” Those who do so tend to use it as a basis for asserting the infallibility of the Scriptures. We would expect then that the verse would go – All scripture is inspired by God and so is true is in every respect – historically accurate and scientifically verifiable. But that is not what it says.
“All scripture is inspired by God and is useful… “(A very down-to-earth and practical word, it seems to me) “useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.”
The truth of the Bible is not to be found on archeological digs or in scientific laboratories. Rather, it is found in the lives of people. Is it producing good people? Is it resulting in changed lives? That’s the authority of the Bible. And if the Bible were not capable of doing that, I would look elsewhere.
It’s one thing to question the reliability of scripture. It is another to question the reliability of God. One questioner quoted Romans 11 – that the Jews were consigned to disobedience, Paul says there, in order that they might receive mercy. “This seems manipulative,” this person wrote. “What of free will?”
Frankly, it does seem manipulative. I think it’s important, though, to look at the context. Paul is near the end of three chapters where he struggles mightily with the issue of Israel. Why have they not embraced Christ? They were given all the great gifts of promise and precepts and prophets. Why do they not accept Jesus as Messiah? Did the word of God fail? Did God not accomplish what he set out to accomplish?
For Paul this is a very personal question. These are his peeps. He begins chapter 9 by saying: “I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh.” Paul has embraced the Son that God sent. Why hasn’t all of Israel? Has God rejected the people whom he chose?
Paul can’t go there. Where he does go is mercy. Paul says in 9:16 – “So it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God who shows mercy.” He even quotes the story of Exodus, about God hardening Pharaoh’s heart. Again, “God has mercy on whomever he has mercy, and he hardens the heart of whomever he chooses.” But even in hardness, the goal again is to show mercy.
You may buy that, and you may not. It may make sense to you and it may leave you with still more questions. Even Paul, at the end of chapter 11, throws ups his hands and proclaims – “O the depth and the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgements and how inscrutable are his ways!” In the end, Paul cannot quite make sense of it. Still, he trusts in God to work mercy for all.
When I first laid out all the questions I received on my desk, this one didn’t rise to the top right away. It seemed to be about an issue of limited appeal. But it’s really an issue we all face. In fact, another question was, “Why do some people have faith?” That’s a question we all ask. And, as with Paul, it’s hardest with those who are closest to us – friends and neighbors, but even more family, children and grandchildren.
We can’t know all the reasons why some people don’t believe, why some have left the church, why some have disregarded God. Nor can we know the reasons for all of God’s actions. All we can do is – like Paul – surrender to the wonder and majesty of God and trust in the working of God’s great mercy – which is abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.
If there is a question more common or more difficult, it is: Not only why do family and friends not have faith, but why do family and friends suffer? Why do I suffer? Why do bad things happen to good people?
To say that God is truly good, that God truly cares about us, doesn’t mean, unfortunately – that bad things – awful things – won’t happen to us or to those we care about.
When I first received news – 30 years ago – that my father had a brain tumor and had perhaps only four months to live, my first thought was, “This doesn’t happen in our family!” It had been 30 years previous to that, when I was only 5, that my grandfather died of bladder cancer. Nothing bad had happened in that time. But now it was. I must have fallen under the illusion that my family was immune to suffering and death. Bad things happen to other people, but not to my loved ones, not to me. But they do.
Why? Why do good people suffer bad things?
One reason I believe we suffer – despite God’s goodness and care – is that God has given us freedom. We are not robots. With that freedom, we make good choices, including choosing to love each other and to love God. With that freedom, however, we and all other human beings make choices that sometimes result in accidents, and sometimes result in destructive behavior and have disastrous consequences. Despite these consequences, I’m not sure we would want to surrender our freedom. But in the midst of our grief, we may wonder why it has to be this way, if God couldn’t have come up with another system.
A positive side effect of the fact that we suffer is that it gives us an opportunity to learn compassion. In college I read an article by theologian John Hick (who also wrote a very controversial book, widely read at the time, “Honest to God”). Hick proposed that the universe is in the business of soul-making. All of the tragedies we encounter shape us. They can turn us to bitterness and despair. Or they can turn us to kindness and hope. This choice too is part of the freedom that God has given us. I believe this is true. Nevertheless, there are tragedies in the world in which the suffering seems to far outweigh anything we might learn. Even in our own lives, we might be tempted to say, “OK, God! Enough already! I’ve learned that lesson!”
Sometimes we will hear people say, or even think to ourselves, “Everything happens for a reason.” Joseph’s statement to his brothers that I talked about a couple of weeks ago reflects this – What you intended for evil, God intended for good, that many people might be saved from starvation. The benefits of Joseph’s suffering were already obvious to him. That is not true of all suffering.
The most difficult funeral that I have done came very early in my ministry. A little three-year-old girl ran out on to a state highway after a ball and got hit by a car that couldn’t stop. If that wasn’t bad enough, Peter was also three at the time. I remember spending the whole week feeling like there was a large rock in my stomach.
I also remember being at the funeral home and hearing an older woman say to the girl’s parents, “God must have needed another little angel in heaven.” I’m sure she meant it as a word of comfort to them – and was also searching for comfort herself – in the face of this terrible loss. But I thought, “How could God have needed another little angel more than this family needed its daughter and sister?”
It could be that when we get to heaven, all our questions will be answered, or maybe there won’t be any need to ask questions. But sometimes the suffering is just too great, too many people die, and our hearts are too broken for that to be of much comfort or make much sense.
I don’t really have an answer to this question. Some responses seem to make sense some of the time, but I don’t know that there is one answer that makes sense all of the time. What I cling to is the promise that Paul makes at the end of Romans 8, just before he takes up the issue of Israel – there is nothing – nothing in heaven or on earth; nothing in the past, the present, or the future; nothing in life, nothing even in death – nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
So, what do we do? How do we live? And how do we prepare our children to live in a world where people suffer? That was also a question that came up.
What we do, I believe, is to live in the best way possible. No matter what the situation or circumstance, no matter what suffering we experience or threat we face, we live with kindness, patience and love. This begins with self-restraint. The metaphors that Jesus uses in today’s gospel reading about cutting off and tearing out are strong ones and designed to shock us, to wake us up. Pay attention to what you are doing and the consequences on other people, Jesus says. When you are doing something harmful, stop it!
“Have salt in yourselves,” Jesus goes on, “and be at peace with one another.” I learned long ago from my wife the baker that salt is an inhibitor of yeast. Sugar encourages the action of yeast. Salt slows it down. The practice of self-restraint will lead to greater peace in relationships.
Self-restraint is very important in an age of increasing reactivity. But it is only a beginning.
My cousin, Christine from Ohio, posted a video on Facebook this week in which a young man, named Clint Pulver, tells his story. Clint says that when he was 10 years old, he struggled in school. He did not struggle with math or science or English. He struggled with holding still. He would tap his hands and fingers on his books. He would flip through his tablets. He would bang on his desk.
His fellow students would say, “Clint, stop!” His teachers would say, “Clint, stop!” When he was finally sent to the principal’s office, the principal advised him to sit on his hands. That worked for about five seconds, he said.
Then one day, his teacher, Mr. Jensen, yelled, “Clint, I want you to stay after class!” He knew he was in big trouble then. After the rest of the class left, Mr. Jensen called Clint up to his desk.
Mr. Jensen said, “Clint, I want you to know you’re not in trouble. But I have one question – Have you ever considered playing the drums?”
Then Mr. Jensen reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a pair of drumsticks and handed them to Clint.
“Clint,” he said. “I don’t think you’re a problem. I think maybe you’re a drummer.”
From that day, Clint carried those drumsticks wherever he went, eventually going off to college and around the world as a drummer.
It was a very moving story. But what I found most profound was, at the very end, Clint said, “That was the moment I learned the difference between being the best in the world and being the best for the world.”
That’s what we can do. We can seek to be the best for the world. We can care for the weak and the vulnerable. We can show compassion to those who, for whatever reason, suffer. We can do justice and love kindness and walk humbly with our God no matter what.
And we can teach our children and our grandchildren the same.
I said to myself, “Chris, not everybody thinks like you do.”
I told this to my wife. She looked at me and said, “Chris, nobody thinks like you do!”
So, in responding to your questions, I just want you to know that I sometimes have peculiar ways of thinking about things. If you don’t quite understand what I’m getting at, it may be me and not you!
I received a wonderful bundle of questions following last week’s invitation. As I said last week, I’m not going to be able to get to all of them today.
There are some questions about the second coming of Christ, the end of time and even the end of one’s own life that I’m going to leave for Christ the King Sunday or the First Sunday in Advent. There are questions about prayer and about personal spiritual life that I’m going to leave until October 14, when, in the gospel reading for that day, Jesus says, “With God all things are possible.” And there are a number of miscellaneous questions, I’m not sure how or when I’ll get to. If at some point, you don’t think I’ve addressed your question (or addressed it in a way that you understand!) please feel free to contact me.
The question I’m going to take up first grows out of the story I told last week about my son, Peter – that he didn’t believe in God because there were no dinosaurs in the Bible. This person wondered if perhaps dinosaurs were actually known about but denied, consciously left out of the Bible story, perhaps because the existence of dinosaurs themselves contradicts the belief in a creator God.
Dinosaurs didn’t come into the human imagination until the 19th century, so I don’t think it’s possible that they were simply overlooked. The writers of the Bible wrote with the understanding of the universe that they had, that was common at the time – which didn’t include dinosaurs, but which did include a “firmament,” or a “dome.” This is mentioned not only in Genesis 1, but also in the earlier verses of Psalm 19, our psalm for today.
In the midst of the waters of chaos, God made a space for creation – a firmament. God pushed the waters back and secured them in place with a dome, so that life on earth could happen. Why is the sky blue? Because that’s water up there. That’s the understanding that they had. It’s not our understanding.
The Bible, I believe, is not so interested in the “how” of creation and far more interested in the “Who” of creation. And that’s the bottom line for me. No matter how the universe came to be, no matter how life appeared on this planet, God was behind it.
In 100 years or in 1000 years, people are likely to understand the origin of life in the universe much differently than we do now. They may even look back and think, “What were they thinking back in 2018? Didn’t they know about…” Even then, my conviction will remain the same: No matter how the universe happened, God was behind it.
This question raises the issue of the trustworthiness of the Bible. Along with the question of trustworthiness is also the question of authority. What is the authority of the Scriptures?
Some assert the authority of the Bible by quoting II Timothy 3:16 – “All scripture is inspired by God.” Those who do so tend to use it as a basis for asserting the infallibility of the Scriptures. We would expect then that the verse would go – All scripture is inspired by God and so is true is in every respect – historically accurate and scientifically verifiable. But that is not what it says.
“All scripture is inspired by God and is useful… “(A very down-to-earth and practical word, it seems to me) “useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.”
The truth of the Bible is not to be found on archeological digs or in scientific laboratories. Rather, it is found in the lives of people. Is it producing good people? Is it resulting in changed lives? That’s the authority of the Bible. And if the Bible were not capable of doing that, I would look elsewhere.
It’s one thing to question the reliability of scripture. It is another to question the reliability of God. One questioner quoted Romans 11 – that the Jews were consigned to disobedience, Paul says there, in order that they might receive mercy. “This seems manipulative,” this person wrote. “What of free will?”
Frankly, it does seem manipulative. I think it’s important, though, to look at the context. Paul is near the end of three chapters where he struggles mightily with the issue of Israel. Why have they not embraced Christ? They were given all the great gifts of promise and precepts and prophets. Why do they not accept Jesus as Messiah? Did the word of God fail? Did God not accomplish what he set out to accomplish?
For Paul this is a very personal question. These are his peeps. He begins chapter 9 by saying: “I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh.” Paul has embraced the Son that God sent. Why hasn’t all of Israel? Has God rejected the people whom he chose?
Paul can’t go there. Where he does go is mercy. Paul says in 9:16 – “So it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God who shows mercy.” He even quotes the story of Exodus, about God hardening Pharaoh’s heart. Again, “God has mercy on whomever he has mercy, and he hardens the heart of whomever he chooses.” But even in hardness, the goal again is to show mercy.
You may buy that, and you may not. It may make sense to you and it may leave you with still more questions. Even Paul, at the end of chapter 11, throws ups his hands and proclaims – “O the depth and the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgements and how inscrutable are his ways!” In the end, Paul cannot quite make sense of it. Still, he trusts in God to work mercy for all.
When I first laid out all the questions I received on my desk, this one didn’t rise to the top right away. It seemed to be about an issue of limited appeal. But it’s really an issue we all face. In fact, another question was, “Why do some people have faith?” That’s a question we all ask. And, as with Paul, it’s hardest with those who are closest to us – friends and neighbors, but even more family, children and grandchildren.
We can’t know all the reasons why some people don’t believe, why some have left the church, why some have disregarded God. Nor can we know the reasons for all of God’s actions. All we can do is – like Paul – surrender to the wonder and majesty of God and trust in the working of God’s great mercy – which is abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.
If there is a question more common or more difficult, it is: Not only why do family and friends not have faith, but why do family and friends suffer? Why do I suffer? Why do bad things happen to good people?
To say that God is truly good, that God truly cares about us, doesn’t mean, unfortunately – that bad things – awful things – won’t happen to us or to those we care about.
When I first received news – 30 years ago – that my father had a brain tumor and had perhaps only four months to live, my first thought was, “This doesn’t happen in our family!” It had been 30 years previous to that, when I was only 5, that my grandfather died of bladder cancer. Nothing bad had happened in that time. But now it was. I must have fallen under the illusion that my family was immune to suffering and death. Bad things happen to other people, but not to my loved ones, not to me. But they do.
Why? Why do good people suffer bad things?
One reason I believe we suffer – despite God’s goodness and care – is that God has given us freedom. We are not robots. With that freedom, we make good choices, including choosing to love each other and to love God. With that freedom, however, we and all other human beings make choices that sometimes result in accidents, and sometimes result in destructive behavior and have disastrous consequences. Despite these consequences, I’m not sure we would want to surrender our freedom. But in the midst of our grief, we may wonder why it has to be this way, if God couldn’t have come up with another system.
A positive side effect of the fact that we suffer is that it gives us an opportunity to learn compassion. In college I read an article by theologian John Hick (who also wrote a very controversial book, widely read at the time, “Honest to God”). Hick proposed that the universe is in the business of soul-making. All of the tragedies we encounter shape us. They can turn us to bitterness and despair. Or they can turn us to kindness and hope. This choice too is part of the freedom that God has given us. I believe this is true. Nevertheless, there are tragedies in the world in which the suffering seems to far outweigh anything we might learn. Even in our own lives, we might be tempted to say, “OK, God! Enough already! I’ve learned that lesson!”
Sometimes we will hear people say, or even think to ourselves, “Everything happens for a reason.” Joseph’s statement to his brothers that I talked about a couple of weeks ago reflects this – What you intended for evil, God intended for good, that many people might be saved from starvation. The benefits of Joseph’s suffering were already obvious to him. That is not true of all suffering.
The most difficult funeral that I have done came very early in my ministry. A little three-year-old girl ran out on to a state highway after a ball and got hit by a car that couldn’t stop. If that wasn’t bad enough, Peter was also three at the time. I remember spending the whole week feeling like there was a large rock in my stomach.
I also remember being at the funeral home and hearing an older woman say to the girl’s parents, “God must have needed another little angel in heaven.” I’m sure she meant it as a word of comfort to them – and was also searching for comfort herself – in the face of this terrible loss. But I thought, “How could God have needed another little angel more than this family needed its daughter and sister?”
It could be that when we get to heaven, all our questions will be answered, or maybe there won’t be any need to ask questions. But sometimes the suffering is just too great, too many people die, and our hearts are too broken for that to be of much comfort or make much sense.
I don’t really have an answer to this question. Some responses seem to make sense some of the time, but I don’t know that there is one answer that makes sense all of the time. What I cling to is the promise that Paul makes at the end of Romans 8, just before he takes up the issue of Israel – there is nothing – nothing in heaven or on earth; nothing in the past, the present, or the future; nothing in life, nothing even in death – nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
So, what do we do? How do we live? And how do we prepare our children to live in a world where people suffer? That was also a question that came up.
What we do, I believe, is to live in the best way possible. No matter what the situation or circumstance, no matter what suffering we experience or threat we face, we live with kindness, patience and love. This begins with self-restraint. The metaphors that Jesus uses in today’s gospel reading about cutting off and tearing out are strong ones and designed to shock us, to wake us up. Pay attention to what you are doing and the consequences on other people, Jesus says. When you are doing something harmful, stop it!
“Have salt in yourselves,” Jesus goes on, “and be at peace with one another.” I learned long ago from my wife the baker that salt is an inhibitor of yeast. Sugar encourages the action of yeast. Salt slows it down. The practice of self-restraint will lead to greater peace in relationships.
Self-restraint is very important in an age of increasing reactivity. But it is only a beginning.
My cousin, Christine from Ohio, posted a video on Facebook this week in which a young man, named Clint Pulver, tells his story. Clint says that when he was 10 years old, he struggled in school. He did not struggle with math or science or English. He struggled with holding still. He would tap his hands and fingers on his books. He would flip through his tablets. He would bang on his desk.
His fellow students would say, “Clint, stop!” His teachers would say, “Clint, stop!” When he was finally sent to the principal’s office, the principal advised him to sit on his hands. That worked for about five seconds, he said.
Then one day, his teacher, Mr. Jensen, yelled, “Clint, I want you to stay after class!” He knew he was in big trouble then. After the rest of the class left, Mr. Jensen called Clint up to his desk.
Mr. Jensen said, “Clint, I want you to know you’re not in trouble. But I have one question – Have you ever considered playing the drums?”
Then Mr. Jensen reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a pair of drumsticks and handed them to Clint.
“Clint,” he said. “I don’t think you’re a problem. I think maybe you’re a drummer.”
From that day, Clint carried those drumsticks wherever he went, eventually going off to college and around the world as a drummer.
It was a very moving story. But what I found most profound was, at the very end, Clint said, “That was the moment I learned the difference between being the best in the world and being the best for the world.”
That’s what we can do. We can seek to be the best for the world. We can care for the weak and the vulnerable. We can show compassion to those who, for whatever reason, suffer. We can do justice and love kindness and walk humbly with our God no matter what.
And we can teach our children and our grandchildren the same.
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