When God Hides - Mark 6: 45-52

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The text is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago.

I was watching some parents play with their baby the other day. They were doing what we did with our kids, so it caught my attention. In fact, I was rather wrapped up in the moment. Here were two perfectly intelligent, and judging by their clothes, professional adults, who – because of the presence of their infant – were reduced to babbling and baby-talk. He looked like he was used to cutting deals in board rooms and she looked like she was managing a power business of her own, but in that moment neither of them were worried about contracts or customers. And they were goofy. Their attention was 100% focused on their little child – they didn’t care about what I or anyone else was thinking. Speaking of goofy, I was smiling ear to ear, watching and remembering. But, then it happened: the mom took her baby’s hands in hers and, with a gentle motion raised the hands toward the child’s eyes while imitating a soprano Ed McMahon, “Wherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre’s baby?” and then suddenly pulling the child’s eyes away from her face. The baby giggled with that contagious bubbling laughter that all babies have, I think. “Wherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr’s baby?” Over and over they played. Baby giggled, mom laughed, dad beamed. And me? I smiled and remembered doing that with my own kids when they were little.

Peek-a-boo is a lot of fun when you’re playing with an intoxicatingly jovial infant. But when it seems as if God is playing peek-a-boo with you, it’s a whole ‘nother game, indeed.

“Pastor, I don’t understand. I keep praying and praying, but it seems like God isn’t listening. Or, if he’s listening, he’s not hearing what I’m saying. Is he hiding from me? Does he not care, anymore?” Those words were coming from a deeply troubled soul whose life had just been turned upside down. This person was seeking God. This individual was trying to pray but felt that the prayers were being unanswered, ignored, or simply laughed at. It seemed to be a fork in the road where only one path was a possible answer: either God doesn’t care, or he simply can’t help me.

Perhaps you are that soul, or you have been in that position before. Where are you, God? Why aren’t you answering me? Why do you seem so far away? You are in good company. Those cries of the faithful has been uttered, sobbed, screamed, whispered, and prayed into the silence by God’s people of all ages. Skim through the Psalms and you will see it over and over again – Psalm 5, 10, 39, 54, 61, 102 and 143 just to name a few – the cries of God’s children in need, in distress, in anguish, calling out to God for relief, but it seems as if He is hiding from them.

First, let us be clear: the Lord has promised to hear your prayers and He will always respond in His time in His way. Just because He isn’t responding WHEN you want, HOW you what, WHERE you want does not mean He is not listening, or He will not answer, or He doesn’t love you, or He has abandoned you. When God hides, when He is silent, He does so on purpose: He does not want to be found in that moment. Remember - God is in control of the hiding. Why would He do such a thing? God does this to do something to us. Don’t ever think God is sitting up in the heavens waiting for you to know Him or find Him by means of speculation or analogy or to crawl your way up to Him. No – not at all. God hides in the world. But, the purpose of that hiding is so that He can be found.

But He is found where you might not be seeking.

Where does one seek God? Oh, there are lots of places to look. Think of your average day. Where could God be hiding? The devil is quick to offer hiding places. After all, he wants you to try to find God naked, so to speak, unclothed from His Word and promises. To borrow from the old country song, the devil wants you to go looking for God in all the wrong places, looking for God in too many places. So, you start searching. But where do you search?

You pray for relief from the burden of debt. Could He be hiding in the lottery to take away all your financial worries? You pray for healing. Could He be hiding in a wonder drug that works wonders? You pray for your pain to stop. Could He be hiding in a bottle of booze or a package of pills? You pray for your family to be at peace. Could He be hiding in someone else’s home instead of yours? You pray for a miracle. Why isn’t he doing like he did then – walking around, healing the sick. The temptations multiply. Maybe we’re not praying hard enough. Maybe we’re not good enough. Maybe God is hiding in another church, another religion, maybe even another god? The temptation grows to go scurrying off after anything and everything that seems to have an answer. When this happens, we no longer even know who God is, we cannot recognize him – in fact, we hardly recognize ourselves as children of God. It is very much like the disciples – “This is a ghost!”

Luther said, “He uses our efforts as a mask under which He blesses us and dispenses His gifts so that there is a place for faith.” So God hides that we might believe His promise He is there and where He has promised to be. He hides from where we would seek him with our human wisdom and understanding. He hides beyond all speculation and guessing. He hides – deliberately - so He is not found in those places where idols dwell. He will not let Himself be found outside of His Word, His Sacraments, and His Promises for His people. In short, God hides from every place that is not grounded in and centered in the cross of His Son, Jesus Christ, who died and rose from the dead, who promised to send the Holy Spirit, His comforter, who enables us to believe and have life in His name.

When one of my girls was little, when we played hide and seek, she would always tell me where she was hiding. “Daddy – I’m going to hide over there. I bet you can’t find me.” You know how that worked out. God does the same thing: He tells us where He hides.

God both hides and reveals in the flesh and blood of His Son Jesus Christ.  In a place where the world would never think to look, God enters into this world and hides in a Nazarite woman’s womb, delivered as a Bethlehem Baby. He hides, in a way, where He was unexpected, under the sign of the opposite, in suffering, death, opposition to man’s reading of the law, being despised and scorned. His strength hidden in His humiliation; His authority cloaked beneath weakness; His glory unseen in His death; His throne a cross; His royal chambers a grave. There, in the plainly-seen flesh of His Son, the Father attacks all that would lead His children astray and in Christ’s death and resurrection, crushes the devil, the world, and our flesh that would mislead us and lure us into despair, shame and other vices. That is where God both hides and reveals Himself: in Jesus, the Christ, the only Son of God.

Finding Jesus is not hard. Yes, Jesus hides. Remember, earlier I said He hides to do something in you? Ironically, this hiding is so that you can receive Jesus, yourself. He hides in the office of the Holy Ministry and the pastors who serve in Christ’s stead. He hides in the Word that declares both the prophecy of Messiah and the fulfillment of the promises in Jesus. He hides in three handfuls of water spoken in the Triune name of God. He hides in the voice of a sinful man who forgives sins in the name of the Father and the Son the Holy Spirit. His very Body and Blood hides in a bite of bread and a sip of wine. He invites you to find Him where He is hiding. “Take and eat; take and drink.” It’s as if He says to you, “Here I am – hiding right here!

And, He comes to you, not when you are strong, but when you are weak and broken, when you are anxious and depressed, when you know you have sinned against God and man, and when your cheeks are wet with tears and your heart aching, when you feel you cannot search another single place. He doesn’t cast you into the darkness. Instead He comes to you. Hidden in these means, He comes to you as your Lord and your Savior and He says simply, “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.”

Christ's Compassion - Mark 6:30-44

“When Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd and he had compassion on then, because they were  like sheep without a shepherd.”

I think for many people, compassion is a synonym of kindness. Not really. It’s much, much more than kindness. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. Compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning it’s what makes your guts hurt when you see something and just have to respond. Compassion hits you in the gut. In fact, the word evolved from describing the waste after butchering. Compassion is a gut-testing thing and it usually means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. Compassion moves you from inaction and into action and it leads you in the dirt – figuratively or literally – down in the ditch in the dust or the muck. Compassion inserts you into their pain, in their misery, whether it’s with a friend in the unemployment office, working in Christ’s kitchen, sitting at the death-bed, or standing in the funeral home as someone stares down the valley of the shadow – getting down eyeball to eyeball with them and be with them in that hard, difficult place and time. Compassion puts you on their level. Compassion says “I’m not better than you…I’m with you, and I won’t let you be alone.” Compassion is visceral.  

The reason I tell you all of this is that it is hugely significant that St. Mark says that Jesus has compassion when he sees the shepherd-less people. Do you get it? This isn’t some distant, far-off and aloof Divinity. This Jesus is God-in-flesh, perfect God who comes to dwell among His own dear people. This same Jesus, who was with God from the beginning, now stands as a man among people and what He sees hurts.  His pain is so deep that His guts hurt. And when Jesus hurts, He must act.

For Jesus, His compassion arises for a different reason than you might expect. Let’s do a simple test – what is the presenting need of the people who are on the hillside? It’s been a long day sitting in the sun. Perhaps their need is shelter. Maybe they need sunscreen or aloe for sunburn. Jesus taught for hours. There were no concession stands or vending machines. The people were hungry. The disciples identify that the need is food.

In fact, Mark lets us know that these kind of first article needs – food, illness, even death – these have all already met the compassion of Jesus. He’s healed a demon-possessed man, heals a woman who touches his robe, and even raises Jairus’ daughter from the dead. All of these needs caused Jesus to act and react. But, none of these things – not even the death of the little girl – cause His guts to hurt.

What makes Jesus feel compassion is this: the people were like sheep without a shepherd. They were a congregation without a pastor – not because the pastors weren’t there. Oh, no – they were there, alright. All of the people whose responsibilities include caring for the eternal souls and welfare of the people, feeding them God’s Word, blessing them with His name, imparting and delivering the gifts of God day in and day out, praying and interceding for them – all of these shepherds stood by and abandoned their flocks to be consumed by the wolves and bears and lions of the devil, the world, and their own sinful flesh. And, meanwhile, as the sheep were devoured one by one by being led to take their eyes off of the promise of the coming Messiah, now fulfilled in Jesus, the shepherds got fat and sassy. They debated the fine intricacies of the Law and argued ways people were guilty of breaking the Law…all the while holding themselves up as high, and great, and holy men. They proffered themselves as near divine with practically sinless lives all the while looking down their pharaisaical noses at sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. Instead of having compassion of their own for these people of God, these sheep, who were wandering and in danger of being forever lost and damned, they passed by, lest they dirty themselves in the process. They were compassionless for those who needed compassion.

This is what causes Jesus to have compassion: these sheep were shepherdless. Shepherdless sheep wander. They can’t find food, they can’t find water, they can’t find shelter and safety. They are at risk of getting lost and separated from Christ. They are in danger of being picked off, one by one, by the devil, the world and their own sinful flesh. So, Jesus is moved to teach and preach. He fills them full so that the hungry are satisfied by something that lasts into eternity – spiritual food that satisfies.

How Jesus demonstrates His compassion is a bit surprising to us. It’s not just that His guts hurt. His compassion is so powerful that He is moved to do something to help. But how Jesus helps might be a bit surprising.

Oh, yes – He does show compassion in taking care of their stomachs. With just five little loaves and tow hot-dog sized fish, Jesus prays and begins breaking the food up for distribution. From the little comes much – so much in fact that there are 12 baskets left over.

His compassion is found, chiefly, not in miracles, or exorcisms, the raising from the dead or even in feeding 5000 with a boy’s lunch. His compassion is found in the cross. The Kingdom is at hand, Jesus said – the time for His Cross is drawing closer. Because of His great compassion, He will suffer and die and rise for the entire world. His guts will hurt – so much so that he sweats great drops of blood. But it’s not just his guts…it’ll be his back from the whips, and his face from the slaps, and his head from the crown of thorns, and his spirit…his spirit as He realizes that even His Father in heaven has abandoned him in the face of hell on earth as the entire sin-filled burden of the world is emptied out upon Him. He takes it all, out of His great compassion for you.

Our compassion can be misguided. It is tempting to look at a crisis moment and thing that we, too, gotta do something. Don’t get me wrong – there is nothing wrong with being moved into action. In fact, many times it is a good thing. But don’t forget the first action of discipleship is to pray – to lift up our eyes to the heavens and commend all things to God’s hands. Pastors are guilty of this, too: we get so caught up in needing to do that we forget that first, we need to stop not do anything of ourselves. Instead, we are to commend all things to the nail-pierced hands of our Savior. A seasoned friend told me years ago, don’t ever forget your chief duty as the church’s priest and lift your people up in prayer. There is a time for action later. Ground your acts of compassion first and foremost in prayer. Pray for faith to be strengthened, grace to be demonstrated, mercy to be granted, love to richly poured out.

And, then, when you act in compassion, know that even small acts of compassion will be multiplied by Christ. Remember – He used a boy’s lunch to feed 5000. And, remember too that the compassion you share is the compassion of Christ that flows through you. When you reach out to others in love, you do so filled with the hands of Christ. When you speak to others in their time of need, you speak with the words of Christ. When you walk along with others in their weakness, you walk with the feet of Jesus. When you show love, you are showing the Christ’s love that He showered upon you and overflows in you to those around you.  It is not us that we share, but Christ.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me. Amen.

When the Lion Roars - Amos 7:7-15

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The text is Amos 7: 7-15.*

I was watching a TV show the other night where one of the characters was going to Africa for a safari. They were on the hunt for the Big Five: elephant, Cape buffalo, rhino, leopard, and lion. If I were a hunter going on African safari, I want a gun as big as a howitzer. This character – and I use that word in a dual purpose – this character was taking a Canon, alright, but it was a camera, not a gun. It was a photo safari. No thanks. If I am in the same area as animals so big they can turn me into meatloaf, I want firepower. I want something that goes boom not click. Have you ever gotten a close-up look at a lion? He's got those big paws and sharp teeth and when he looks at you, he looks at you like dinner. They’re impressive beasts in the zoo, but face to face in the savannah of Africa? No thanks. I want to keep the lion at arms distance in the cage.[1]

This is what the King Jeroboam, and his priest Amaziah want to do. They want to keep The Lion in the cage. The book of Amos is about God as a Roaring Lion. God has called an unlikely prophet, Amos (previously a shepherd and a vinedresser) to be his voice and roar out with charges against the people of Israel, and especially the King Jeroboam.  

God gives Amos the vision of the plumb line. He standing beside the wall which is Israel and the wall is all out of kilter. The people of Israel have strayed from who God wants them to be and how he wants them to be his people. Corrupt judges rule among the people. They are easily bribed. The poor go without what they need. Immorality of all kinds is rampant. So God roars against Israel. The people are worshiping false gods. High places have been set up for the gods of the Canaanites. And the King Jeroboam, he forgot who is really in charge. Israel was not like the other nations. The King was not supreme, it was to be God. So, God says. You will not escape my justice. I have warned you before. This time destruction is coming. The sword will be raised against the King. God is no small voice here. He's no tame kitty cat. The Lion is coming out of the cage.

But Amos is inviting God's people to be God's people and to live in a different way, God's way. If you're tired of the way things are you are invited you to a new way of life. Where everything is backwards and upside down the last are first and first are last. Where the poor are blessed and mighty ones are cast down. This is the same kingdom that Jesus proclaims when he comes. He says "the kingdom of God is at hand."

Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection brings about this radical kingdom. Amos is talking about Jesus here and the new life that he brings through the forgiveness of sins.

King Jereboam and his priest Amaziah want to keep the cat in the cage. They don't like what Amos is preaching. They see the prophet as a troublemaker. They're not going to change their ways. They can't believe that Amos' words were God's words. So, Amaziah warns Amos, "Shut up, pack up, and saddle up. Get out of town and don’t come back."

Stephen Crane – you probably know him as the author of THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE - wrote this poem titled, “In the Desert.”

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter - bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

I feel that way about the prophet Amos. I love it because, in many ways, it is bitterly painful to read over and against our modern American Christian mindset. Yet and still, I love it because it is the Word of the Lord and it speaks the Word to my heart.

Much like Israel in the time of Amos, God's word stands against us and accuses us of these very things. We care more for ourselves than the poor. We set up our false gods of our money and our family and our security and our country. We sit quietly in our churches all neighbors all around us go without hearing God's word forgiveness for them in Jesus Christ. And while they suffer under the load of the problems of the world. Amos invites us too, to a way of life that is radically different. A life where the first are last and the last are first. A life where we live for others instead of for ourselves. And sometimes we even tell God to get out. "I don't want to hear your word against me."

Amos refuses to give in. God's word must be heard. He stands in a long line of prophets, Moses and Daniel and Elijah and Elisha and Isaiah and of course he stands before the great prophet Jesus. Jesus is the end-all of all the prophets who stand before the high priest and make the good confession. He does that. He calls everyone into a new life in him, a new life in God the father. A radical life where forgiveness reigns. A radical life that is lived for the sake of others. A new life that he, God himself in human flesh, brings. They couldn't believe that Jesus was God in the flash come to speak his word directly to them. Jesus told them so and they killed him for it.

But in Jesus death on the cross forgiveness of sins is made. He suffers and dies for all the selfishness of the world. Because of his sacrifice we can live a life that is radically different. Through faith in Jesus life death and resurrection we have forgiveness of sins. We have a right relationship with God. Our sins are forgiven, we need not be concerned about our relationship to him. We can live that radical life where we put ourselves last and others first. Where we show God's mercy and love in time of need. And even more so, proclaim the forgiveness of sins in the cross of Jesus Christ for all people. This is the victory won for us by the Lion of the tribe of Judah. This is the new radical way of life we are called to through Holy Baptism, our connection to Jesus Christ and his life his death and his resurrection for us.

Amos, like the prophets before and after him, stands to make the good confession. He speaks God's word to the needy and dying world. He says what must be said. Sinful people deserve God's anger and wrath and punishment. But God is gracious and merciful slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Repent and believe in God's forgiveness.

We stand here in the Valley of Mission – El valle de la mission - and are called to make the same confession. Here we are called by God's Word to bring God's love and mercy to this community where God has placed us.

What does the mission of Zion look like in this community? How do we, as a congregation, take the Good News of Jesus and put skin and bones to that message and carry it into our community? We collect foodstuffs for VCAM – Victoria Christian Assistance Ministries. This is good. But, it’s time we seek a more active way to enflesh the Gospel to those who aren’t part of Zion. We speak of stewardship and usually think of money. But, using our gifts of time and ability are equally important – perhaps more important. It’s easy to write a check and think someone else can do the work of putting that to use. Let’s use our time and ability for the sake of the Gospel.

When I came to visit a year ago, y’all told me about Victoria’s large homeless population. Do you see these people? They aren’t homeless.  They are people who do not have a home. There is a difference in how you think about them. Homeless is a characterization. People who are homeless are bodies and souls who need the love of Jesus given to them.

Volunteer on the 4^th Saturday at Christ’s Kitchen. Zion is the church sponsor that day, but our presence is pretty slim. Spend an hour – roll silverware, prep and buss tables, make a salad, help chop onions, scoop ice for drinks, or simply visit with folks. You might meet someone like Richard – he calls himself “Silky” – who told me the only time he knows he will get a handshake is when he eats there. And, if you’re comfortable, add a blessing or prayer, a word of encouragement. Let them see Jesus in you and hear of Jesus from you. Volunteer at VCAM – help distribute food, clothes, and other essentials to people who need a helping hand. Folks, these people are part of the body of Christ as well. If your heart is inclined to help unwed mothers, and by extension, children who are at risk, the House of Palms is a relatively new program for Victoria area high school juniors and seniors who have become pregnant and don’t have family support. If you know my story, you understand why this one is especially close to myheart. I am happy to help connect you with any of these three important mission ministries in this community and I encourage you to be involved.

You are equipped to do this work. But this is exactly why we gather isn't it? We gather to hear of God's grace and mercy to us, to fill us for this work. You receive in word and water and bread and wine God's forgiveness that frees your conscience. You are enabled by the Spirit of God to use your voice, hands and feet for service in the name of Jesus. We are the body of Christ. We are here to bear one another's burdens. Jesus makes it so in his presence through the work of the Holy Spirit. Martin Luther said about the Lord's supper, "When you go to the sacrament you lay your burden on Christ and the community gathered. When you leave you pick up the burdens of one another and so fulfill the love of Christ." (Martin Luther via Rev. Matthew Harrison). It is the wonder of that gift that enables us to bear the burdens of the community around us. To show God's mercy in their deepest need. And especially to bring them the Good News about the forgiveness of sins one through Jesus Christ on the cross. Amen.

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[1] Let the reader understand: I am making this statement for the purpose of illustration.

* This sermon is based in part on a sermon series published by the Rev. Dr. Reed Lessing entitled "Restore the Roar."

When It's More Than You Can Handle, There is Jesus - Mark 5: 21-43

Audio link

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel for this morning.  

You’ve probably heard the seemingly Biblical wisdom shared before: “God will never give you more than you can handle.” It’s used all the time, spoken to someone who just lost their job, or who received a difficult medical diagnosis, or who had a relationship break-up, and to someone whose beloved just passed. “God will never give you more than you can handle.” It’s always spoken with piety, dignity and reverence, as if St. Paul himself were speaking in the moment. And, because it sounds Biblical – in fact, it is sometimes even prefaced with something like, “Remember, the Bible says” – we take it as (literally) Gospel.

Take that sentence and speak it into this morning’s Gospel lesson. Let’s see what it would look like. There stands Jairus whose daughter is dying. “Brother, God’s not going to give you more than you can handle.” Couldn’t you hear Jairus think, “Oh, really? Who is this God who going to make my child die because he thinks I can handle it?” Or, speak it to the woman who struggled with twelve years of blood loss, anemia, and embarrassment; who spent everything she had to try to find a cure with no success. Do you really think giving her those words of counsel will offer her any hope, any help? Do you think she would rejoice at this statement? Here these two people are, one with his daughter literally at the point of death, the other in the depths of medical and social misery, and the best that can be said is God won’t give you more than you can handle? Can Jairus handle his daughter’s death? Can this woman endure any more? It’s not our place to say, of course, but the actions of the father or the woman lead us to believe they are hanging on by much more than a thread and that thread is fraying fast. I would suggest they can’t handle their situation at all. If they could handle it, neither would need Jesus.

Now, to be fair, no one in this text makes this statement. I’m importing a modern phrase into the ancient narrative. But, I am doing so with the purpose of wanting you to think Biblically, Scripturally about the world in which you live and in the context of your lives as Christians in this world. I want you to develop a Biblical worldview, a Biblical lens, if you will, through which you see and hear and think about the things going on and being said around you.

Let me explain.  For the record, I do have Christopher’s permission to share this with you. As most of you know, the last few weeks have been rather tense for my family. Perhaps some of you know the emptiness of having a child who has something medically wrong but we’re not quite sure what it is. Perhaps you know the helplessness of not being able to fix it yourself. Perhaps you know the anxiety of being told that the Xrays and MRIs showed a shadowy area, but were inconclusive, and a biopsy is needed to see what is wrong; of seeing your child cry in fear while wiping away your own tears; of being told a biopsy revealed decaying bone, which was given a multi-syllable word that ended in -oma; and fearing the worst while waiting 40 of the slowest hours ever recorded. Do you know that 40 hours is 2,400 minutes, or almost 200,000 heartbeats? I felt every one as I was standing in the same path as Jairus: a father who was afraid for his son, not because he was dying (I’m not trying to overstate my story) but not knowing what was about to happen.

A well-intended visitor – I can’t remember who it was, but it doesn’t really matter - looked at me and said those mystic words, “Remember, God will never give you more than you can handle.”

I was so emotionally flooded that I was unable to respond. I wasn’t angry at the speaker. When people make comments like this, I think it’s usually because they are in an uncomfortable place in unfamiliar waters. Rather than sitting in silence with the suffering and grieving and fearing, they feel the need to speak.  And, needing to speak, they say what comes to mind and, somehow, this pithy ditty keeps coming to people’s minds and mouths, as they think it’s Holy Writ. I wasn’t angry at the speaker but I remember feeling sad – sad that the speaker, presumably, believed this.

The problem is that this statement isn’t Gospel. Gospel points you to Jesus. This verse reverts the hearer back to him or herself – He won’t give you more than *you* can handle. It’s Law. Worse, it’s not God’s Law. It was never spoken by St. Paul, or Peter or Isaiah or any of the other Biblical writers, either. It’s not even in the Bible. It is a mis-statement of what St. Paul really did say in 1 Cor. 10:13, “God is faithful, He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” Hardly the same thing as our modern invention, “He’ll never give you more than you can handle.” It’s not a misinterpretation, it’s a flat-out misstatement. Don’t take my word for it – look it up this afternoon, 1 Cor. 10:13. We accept misstatements like this because we are a biblically illiterate culture and society. God’s words are bent, folded, spindled and twisted into something that he never meant to say. We are so far removed from our Bibles, anymore, that anyone who speaks with pithy, Bible-esque statements gets more credit than the sacred texts themselves.

As a result, people are led away and, unfortunately, even led into despair because the reality is that we cannot bear our burdens by ourselves and it turns God into a sadist who seems to love pushing His people to the edge.

The fact is that we live in a world, quite fallen, that is always dealing us a worse hand than we can handle.  Whether it is illness or unemployment, relationship dissolution or accident, natural disasters or the sinful desires of men, we experience it all.

When you experience these things, the fallenness of this world - and you will! - then follow in the footsteps of Jairus and the woman and look to Jesus. Neither he nor she would turn you back to yourself. They know what it means to not be able to do it yourself. They would turn you to Jesus, in faith, trusting His goodness, love and mercy for you, His dearly beloved. They would turn you to Jesus who emptied Himself fully and completely to the point of death on the cross, carrying the suffering of all of humanity in Himself.  They would point you to Jesus who rose from the dead. As witnesses of Christ’s power, they would point you to Jesus and say, “Trust Him.” He takes your fears, your anxieties, your worries, your concerns, all of it and He drug it into the grave with Him. 

God allows you more than you can handle so that all you can do is trust Jesus. You can’t hang on, you can’t endure, you can’t bear one more thing, so turn to Jesus. Don’t carry it yourself – for that matter, don’t even try. Repent of any foolish idea that you can. Don’t try to be your own Savior. That’s what Jesus came to do – don’t put him out of work. Jairus “fell at [Jesus’] feet and implored Him earnestly.” Instead of trying to bear your burden, let go, put your hands together and pray for Christ’s mercy, grace, strength, and faith. The woman reached out and touched Jesus’ robe as he passed by. Reach out your hands and touch Christ’s body and His blood, given and shed for you – not only for the forgiveness of your sins, but also for the strengthening of faith in Him as the one who can and will rescue.

 You notice what Jesus does, for both Jairus and the woman: He commends their faith. Remember, faith doesn’t do. Faith receives. Faith is the beggar with the empty sack standing in front of God and saying, “I have been baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection. You made me your child in holy Baptism. I trust you will fill my sack with all good things.” And God does that, more abundantly that we could ever ask or imagine. He fills the sack to the top. And when the sack is emptied, because of our sinfulness or the sinfulness of the world, we stand in front of Him again, in repentant faith, and He fills the sack again, never counting the times we return to Him. He lovingly fills us up.

This might seem strange, but I generally enjoy – as much as it is possible – making hospital calls and speaking the Word of God to a hurting, frightened soul, offering prayers and blessing to him or her in a time of crisis and need. It’s a whole different ballgame when it’s your own family member lying in that bed, let me tell you. I didn’t enjoy that at all. Nor did I enjoy listening to the children crying because they were hurt or scared. I could never be a chaplain in a children’s hospital. I knew this lesson was coming up, so I had plenty of time to contemplate it over and against what I was seeing and experiencing. In this Gospel text, Jesus miraculously heals both Jairus’ daughter and the woman. And there was much healing that took place in Dell Children’s hospital. I am very grateful to say that my son is one of those whom the Lord is healing through the hands of a skilled surgical team and phenomenal nurses. But I have to tell you, during those difficult hours of uncertainty, I was turning to Jesus because it was way more than I could handle. While I prayed with the fervor of Jairus that this thing wasn’t – you know, the Big C – I was also holding on to Jesus robe like the woman and I was reminding Jesus of His baptismal promise to my son, that Christopher carried Christ’s own name – Christian – and that there was a space reserved for him into eternity. We, as Christians, tend to be very nearsighted: we see the here and now. God is eternally farsighted. I was trying to see things through His eyes. I could see it - just a glimmer, but it was there. When it's more than you can handle, there is Jesus.

I’m still trying to see things through His eyes. I’ll be the first to admit, it’s much easier today than it was two weeks ago, yesterday, while we were still waiting. But, that’s what we are all doing, isn’t it? We’re waiting for His return. So, let’s wait with a Biblical worldview. Look with me – look past today and tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow. Look into the eschaton with me, look into eternity. Do you see it?

There it is! There will be a day of great rejoicing when all of the tears of this world will be wiped away, the pain and sorrow that goes with it will all cease. On that great day of Christ’s return, you, too, will hear Jesus’ own words, “My child, arise,” and you shall be raised. And with a resurrected hand, you will reach out and touch His robe – not to be healed of illness, because that will already be left behind – but in rejoicing because you will be healed into eternity.