Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts

Friday, January 6, 2012

Rejoicing Insofar - Typing out loud about suffering.

This is going to sound gooshy. Gooshy to the point, the threshold, of bragging. I'm warning you now.

I have an incredible wife. It's true. If you met my wife after meeting me, you would soon use the words "married up" in your inner monologue. And I would agree. If we want to discuss deserving, I admit I don't deserve her. The guy who was once called King of the NCMO (Non-Commital Make Out) by his friends, who didn't have a savings account until he was 25, who drank too much and cussed out strangers? That guy doesn't deserve a beautiful, intelligent, and lovely wife.

That's why I often tell my wife she's evidence of God's grace in my life. Not only has God forgiven me of all my youthful (and adult) foolishness, he gives me wonderful gifts.

In Raised With Christ, Adrian Warnock tells this story. "I remember trying to explain grace to a room full of children. Without warning, I took a large chocolate bar and gave it to the child who had been misbehaving the most all morning. The look of surprise and pleasure on the child's face told me he understood that this was far from what he deserved. A chorus of howls from the other children of 'That's totally not fair!' told me they had grasped it too. 'Exactly,' I said. 'That's grace!'"

But what about when terrible things happen? What about when you or a loved one is sick or hurt? What about disappointment, heartbreak, or betrayal? Does God give me that, too?

Pastor Mark Leech asked that question at The Livingwell House in Grand Rapids, Michigan. "How many times have I had this conversation, even with myself, when you start to feel an ache in your body or something begins to go wrong in your finances? Immediately, our brain goes to the Accuser and says, 'What have I done? What is God trying to teach me? I must have done something wrong. He's punishing me for this sin.' He's not. If He was, you'd be dead. Because there is no other punishment. There is no other judgment. The wages of sin is death. So you'd know if God was exercising judgment because you would be dead."

I know this bell rings a lot here, but I feel like many Christians (and I sometimes include myself in this group) don't understand why God would let us suffer. For some reason, we tell ourselves it doesn't seem fair to have eternal life and yet still have to deal with pain like everyone else.

1 Peter 4:12-13 says, "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed."

This passage used to baffle me. Rejoice in suffering? Christian masochists? But then I caught the word "insofar". When I had my big toenails pulled off for the third time, and the anaesthetics weren't working, I didn't rejoice at the pain. I didn't love the suffering itself. But I'll admit that at one or two points while the doctor used her foot on the table for leverage, I thought to myself, "If this is bad, I wonder how bad it was for Jesus." Maybe that's rejoicing "insofar" as sharing in Christ's suffering. Whether I'm wrong about that or not, I hobbled away appreciating more of what He did for me.

This isn't a simple topic. I know it isn't. But here's where I've landed while I think about it today. If we've sinned, and we have, then we deserve death. But I'm still alive and I have so much good in my life. I feel like God demonstrates His love for me constantly. I don't understand why the hard stuff happens, but I know He loves me and wants to do good for me. I know that Jesus cried when His friend died, even though He knew He was about to resurrect the guy.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The Great Silence - What do I do when I don't hear anything from God?

Now that the holidays are over, I'm going to tell you a secret. I don't get very excited about Christmas. I mean, I love celebrating Jesus, but I can do without the trees and cookies and shopping and so on. I can't remember where it started, but I stopped asking my parents for Christmas presents during my teenage years.

Of course they still wanted to give me gifts. So for three years, my Christmas and birthday gifts were hours of recording time at a studio in West Michigan. Over those three years, I made my teenage angst album, The Great Silence.

I knew at the time God spoke to people and I had heard him during times of prayer. But for a while, I didn't hear much. Every Sunday afternoon, my family would take time to pray and listen for God. More often than not, I wouldn't feel the Holy Spirit putting anything on my heart. "Why not?" I would ask myself. "Is God mad at me? Am I screwing up? Have I lost all favor? Should I become a monk and earn His acceptance?" Those years were bleak and I didn't handle them well.

Sometimes I'll get messages from people who have read Stark Raving Obedience and I regularly hear this question: "What do I do if I don't hear anything from God?" My go-to answer is, "Don't worry. God wants to guide you. If you pray and don't hear, make a decision you think would make Him happy. Through it all, keep praying. Then be open to change if you feel Him telling you to do the contrary." But I've never loved that answer. It may be correct, but when you're in the middle of your own Great Silence, it can sound lame.

I went through something like this again when the ceiling of my old house fell. My wife and I lived in spare bedrooms and kept asking God what we should do. For three weeks, I didn't hear much. By the end of the month, we had a great new home and I had a new job. God had orchestrated a huge blessing in the background of a hard trial.

I thought about this again today when I read the latest post on Stuff Christians Like. Please read it. I think it will encourage you.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Pray Quickly - Understanding how to bear one another's burdens effectively

Throughout my years as a Christian, I've participated in a lot of prayer circles. We gather around, share our requests, then pray for each other. Sometimes we call dibs on requests ("I'll pray for Tony's ear thing."), other times we pray as we're lead. If there's a recognized leader, he or she might dictate who opens and closes the time of prayer. Often, the leader chooses one of those spots. The point is, I've done this at least a thousand times in fifty different ways.

Recently, I've thought about one consistent element to prayer circles, and that's the person who unloads all of what they're going through as their request. Now, before you think me heartless, I should say how I really do care about the person's struggle. I feel compassion for their suffering. But my gut reaction says, "I don't need to hear this." When it comes to praying for others, I find my prayers don't much change even after I've been educated on the back-story of the request.

If I'm honest, though, my attitude has tipped toward never wanting to hear about a person's struggles. And I already know it's incorrect. Scripture talks about holding each other accountable. It also tells us to comfort each other. I especially think of Galatians 6:2, which says, "Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ."

My attitude developed slowly during years of prayer circles and other times of ministry. For example, when I was sixteen, I read somewhere that the Greek translation of Galatians 6:2 intended people to bear one another's burdens as if it were their backpack. Literally take on their struggles and give them a break for a while. At the time, I lead worship for six hundred teenagers a week, and some of them would talk to me as if I were their pastor. Seriously, I wish I had never heard some of those things. I remember telling one girl she didn't need the spiritual advice of a teenager, she needed to go to the police. But misunderstanding Galatians 6:2, I kept trying to carry more and more backpacks. One day, I found I couldn't walk with that weight anymore.

I've learned a few things since then. First, I was wrong to take on those burdens the way I had. In a sense, I was trying to be Jesus for those people. But Jesus has already taken on the price and the weight of that evil when he died on the cross. Those people didn't get much help from me in the long run and I ended up wearing myself out.

Second, I never balanced Galatians 6:2 with other verses like 2 Corinthians 1:3-4. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." Yes, I'm supposed to show compassion and care for people who are suffering, but not out of my own power. I need to first receive comfort from God so I can share it with people who need it.

All that said, I still think it best to pray quickly for people in the setting of a prayer circle. The faster we pray, the sooner we give the burden to God, the quicker we see His peace come into the situation. After that, we can listen to their story. It might even change the way they tell it.

Monday, May 30, 2011

My Perfectly Good Explanation.

Woah.

Okay, let me explain. About a month ago, as my wife and I slept, a crashing sound woke us. It had stormed all day (the same storm that rocked Alabama), so we assumed it was thunder. But then my wife says, "Why does it sound like it's raining inside of our house?" Walking into the living room, I saw that about a third of the kitchen ceiling had caved in and water poured all over our kitchen table.

Goodbye Bibles, goodbye prayer journal. Blurg.

As I stared into the kitchen chaos, the living room ceiling fell. For a moment, both my wife and I thought that maybe the big tree in our backyard had crashed through the roof. It was that loud.

And so began the craziest month I've had since moving to Nashville. We lost some stuff. We had to move out of our home and find a new place to live. We slept on futons and air mattresses in our friend's spare rooms. We daydreamt about having our own kitchen and some time alone.

Now, I've learned plenty about God in the midst of this ordeal, but I want to hear from you (it's been so long, right?) before I jump into a homily. Have any of you gone through crazy stuff like this and wondered if God was sleeping on the clock or had in some anti-septic religious sentiment decided you were too happy and needed a stiff dose of Old Testament suffering?

Have you looked up and asked "what the hell? Why me?"

It's okay. This is a safe place. You can be honest.

As a bonus, I'd like for you to hear a song I wrote before my home disaster, monstrous tornadoes in the south and midwest, or people recently expecting the rapture.

   History Lesson at the End of the World by The Summer Country

Monday, October 26, 2009

Two of the Twelve - Joel and the Valley of Decision

We all know people who wouldn't read a book if it didn't have pictures. Those of us caught up in intellectual snobbery have at one point or another sniffed at their simple view of *sigh* literature. I admit, I've laughed at a lot of people for enjoying what I call "airport books". The great thing about most snobs, myself included, is that we typically commit the same sins for which we condemn others. Our own sins most certainly find us out.

In the book of Joel, the prophet doesn't tell any story to give his prophecy context. It's the only occasion the Bible ever mentions him. No appearances in Chronicles or Ezra or anything. His book lays out straight prophecy. Three intense chapters and fini. As I read and re-read this book, I found myself wishing Joel wrote about the things happening in history around his prophecies. You know, zazz it up a little. Hosea marries a hooker, Isaiah walks around naked for a while, Ezekiel eats poop. That stuff'll keep you turning pages. Joel stands up to spout out some heavy doom then returns to his seat nearly invisible among the other prophets.

I wanted the book to have pictures.

After my last reading of his book, I finally understood that Joel didn't need to give historical context to his prophecy. God's words can apply to nearly every generation. Imagine the people are proud of their prosperity, and as Proverbs 3:34 and 1 Peter 5:5 says, God opposes the proud. Joel 1 tells of an agricultural disaster brought on by swarms of locusts and other bugs. This is the equivalent of our economy suffering from, say, a stock market crash or lack of natural resources. Like everything we built to make money and keep us safe failed in the end. Everything devoured and traumatized. The people suffer disasters meant to shock the coming generations.

In chapter 2, the picture takes the form of something much different and yet equally horrific. Instead of bugs, the picture becomes that of an ruthless, invading army. Then in verse 2:11, Joel shocks the reader by attributing the suffering to the One they'd least expect. "The Lord shouts orders to His forces - His army is immense, mighty, and it does what He says. For great is the Day of the Lord, fearsome, terrifying! Who can endure it?" God sent the affliction. God devastated the land. God leads the army of judgment.

I think a great number of people would readily agree with this. When troubles come, how often do you hear people blame God? "How could a good God allow something like this to happen?" I heard it after nearly every national calamity. Bombings, school massacres, hurricanes. Everyone was willing to blame God as if we were the good guys, as if our everyday sins didn't deserve condemnation and death. It doesn't matter how good of a person, or a Christian, you are. You could suffer from Younger Brother Syndrome or belong to the Older Brother Club and still have the same response. Affliction can cause you to wonder about God's justice and goodness.

The next few verses give a little hope to the reader. A little. Joel 2:12-14, "'Yet even now,' says the Lord, 'turn to me with all your heart, with fasting, weeping and lamenting.' Tear your heart, not your garments (that is, an authentic act of repentance instead of a mere outward show); and turn to the Lord your God. For He is merciful and compassionate, slow to anger, rich in grace, and willing to change His mind about disaster. Who knows? He may turn, change His mind and leave a blessing behind Him, enough for grain offerings and drink offerings to present before the Lord your God."

How unsettling is this concept? Maybe God will show mercy and give you "enough". Think about this. If God saved the people from death but didn't restore their fortune, would that make Him unjust? I think not. If I deserve to die and spend eternity in Hell, I should be happy with the idea of having "enough". If God spared my life and instantly give me all the riches and comfort of the world, wouldn't I run the risk of turning back to my old idols of prosperity, worshiping the blessing instead of the One who blesses?

Just after verse 2:23, where Joel tells the people to praise God for giving them the "right amount" of rainfall, he says in verse 2:24-27, "Then the floors will be full of grain and the vats overflow with wine and olive oil. 'I will restore to you the years the locusts ate, the grasshoppers, shearer-worms and cutter-worms, my great army that I sent against you. You will eat until you are satisfied and will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has done with you such wonders. Then my people will never again be shamed. You will know that I am with Israel and that I am the Lord your God, and that there is no other" (emphasis mine).

Listen to this, I firmly believe that God can use affliction to teach us how to truly worship Him. I'm not saying that God wants us to become gluttons for suffering and so compare Him to an abusive dad. But look at what God wanted the suffering to produce. He wanted to teach them how to seek Him in all circumstances so they would still worship Him as God, Him and nothing else, when He did restore their prosperity.

The outstanding picture of Jesus I see in this book happens in the Valley of Y'hoshafat (The Lord Judges). Verse 3:14 also calls this place the Valley of Decision. After God restores the fortunes of Israel, He calls the nations into this valley for final judgment. In Romans 2, when Paul describes God's coming judgment, he says in verse 16, "This will take place on the day when God will judge men's secrets through Jesus Christ, as my gospel declares" (NASB). Yes, Jesus came to save the world. Yes, God loves the whole world. But God also hates sin and must eventually execute perfect justice. Joel's "Day of the Lord" will come when God judges men through Jesus. Revelation 19 talks of Jesus returning with a sword, wearing clothes soaked in blood, striking down those who remain in the rebellion of sin. What an awesome picture. Like the cover of some brutal metal record.

But Justice isn't exactly synonymous with "punishment". Those who have accepted Jesus as Lord are justified. Joel 3 talks of God judging the nations for their wickedness and vindicating His people, calling Himself our refuge. God makes this promise in 3:21, "I will cleanse them of their bloodguilt which I have not yet cleansed." In other words, Joel tells the people "Don't freak out. God will cleanse you of your sin one day." That day came when Jesus died on the cross. When we accept this truth, it doesn't mean we haven't sinned, but rather it should remind us how Jesus cleansed us of our guilt. If Jesus will judge me as righteous because of His righteousness, then I look forward to the Day of the Lord in the Valley of Decision knowing exactly what I have decided.