Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Epistle lesson from 2 Cor. 12.
If you’ve been with us the last few weeks, we have been
exploring the human condition as we suffer this side of heaven. We spoke of
suffering from a guilty conscience and the healing power of absolution, the
forgiveness of sins in Christ Jesus. We learned the power of sitting in
prayer-filled silence. We wrestled with the question of “why does such
suffering happen?” We spoke of how to lament, to express our suffering, in
faith that the Lord hears our prayers and will answer in His own perfect way –
even if it is not in our time or according to our desires.
If the last few weeks wrestled with the questions of why God
allows suffering, congruent with why it seems God is sometimes silent in our
cries for His help, today’s Epistle lesson speaks to how to live while
struggling in this lifetime.
Before I get to that, I want to speak to two rather strange
things that Paul mentions, things that you may have picked up on and want an
answer to. The first is when Paul speaks of a man caught up in the third
heaven. Frankly, we really don’t know. There is a lot of speculation that runs
quite the spectrum. Personally, I think the man was none other than St. Paul
and he is speaking of a heavenly vision that he had experienced, something akin
to what John saw in the Revelation. The second brief point is Paul’s “thorn in
the flesh.” Again, theologians are all over the place: some suggest physical
ailments, like bad eyesight or some kind of body pain from what he physically
endured as a disciple of Christ. Personally, I wonder if it wasn’t the memories
of the Christians that he hunted down, prosecuted and murdered before his
Damascus conversion. Paul knew he was forgiven, but perhaps he could not forget
the names and faces. Again – we don’t know.
What we do know is that whatever this thorn in the flesh may
have been, it was sent by Satan to keep Paul humble. Remember: God controls
satan and God uses even the most heinous of evil for his purpose. This
satan-delivered but God-allowed thorn in the flesh was so that the heavenly,
beatific vision would not go to Paul’s head.
Without being trite, it must have been a terrific burden for
Paul to have had this thing harass and bother him. You understand this, even if
we don’t know exactly what it was. You, with your own struggles of life –
physical, mental, emotional, spiritual – that you carry to the Lord in prayer.
The family struggles, the dying marriage, the endless poking and prodding by
needles, the creaking knees, the knife in the hip, the burning pain that won’t
let you rest, the checking account that constantly runs low, the frustration
you have with your child, the irritation at a friend who has become a ghost,
the constant memory of that thing you did - you, like Paul, knowing you
are forgiven but the memory remains, unedited, unchanged, unchanging.
These things, you daily, sometimes hourly, carry to the Lord
in prayer, once, twice, thrice with Paul; lamenting with Jeremiah; asking “why”
with Job; even seventy-times-seven, imploring God that your suffering might be
eased and you might be released for the sake of Jesus Christ, that peace might
be restored in your body, mind and spirit.
And, each time, instead of Job’s silence, you seem to hear
the Lord saying “no.”
No. Why does the Lord, who is good and gracious, merciful
and kind, loving and compassionate, why does He say no to this prayer – your
prayer! – offered in faith that expresses your hurt, pain, concern and, yes,
fear?
In this morning’s Gospel lesson, there is an interesting detail.
Jesus goes to His hometown but, Mark notes, He could not perform any miracles. Why
was that? Was it because the people of Nazareth lacked faith and the absence of
faith prevented Jesus from doing miracles? Or was it that miracles are a reward
for faith and with faith lacking, He found no reason to reward them?
Bring that back to your suffering for a moment and why God
answers “no.” Is it because you lack faith? Is it because you are unworthy of
such a reward? No. Neither is the case. First, Christ does not need you faith,
or the faith of the people in Nazareth, to perform a miracle. He is God: a lack
of faith does not stop Him. It did not stop Him on the Sea of Galilee, at Cana,
or in His own Easter resurrection appearances. Likewise, while He calls
doubters to stop being unbelieving and believe, they receive miracles as well.
Remember: Thomas was not denied an Easter appearance!
So, if the answer isn’t somehow connected to our level of
faith, if it isn’t a reward, then what is it?
Paul teaches that God’s no is used to demonstrate the
all-sufficiency of God’s grace and power absent any power, strength or might we
could possibly have.
We live in an anthropocentric time. We think the world
revolves around us. Listen to how people talk and reference the unholy trinity
of me, myself and I. “I’m offended, therefore you must change.” “You must
listen to me.” “It’s my right to do, say or think whatever I want.”
His “no” pulls us away from ourselves, our perceived
strength, our supposed abilities and recenters on Christ and Christ alone. It
was true for St. Paul, whose strength was humbled by the thorn in the flesh. It
was true for Job, whose wealth and power was humbled by wind, marauders, and
illness. It was true for Jeremiah, whose very people were destroyed or taken
captive. It is true for you who, made weak and humble, cling to Christ all the
more dearly. And, when your strength gives out and you are not able to cling,
Christ holds you, his beloved, near and dear to Him.
He holds you in His nail-pierced hands. He, who had divine
might, set aside His full divinity so that He could suffer at the hands of
sinful men, becoming weak, even to the point of the most miserable death the
world has ever seen. We use the word “excruciating,” some times to describe
terrible suffering. Excruciating comes from the Latin, “ex crucis,”
literally, “from the cross.” Those hands know suffering that is ex crucis.
He, who was eternal, died in His flesh, was bured in a borrowed tomb, and whose
temporal and spiritual enemy rejoiced in his death. It’s the strangest kind of
victory, a victory that is earned by dying, but that is God’s way. He hides his
power under weakness. But, those are the hands that redeemed the world in His
death and resurrection, putting in place the beginning of making all things new.
The day is coming when His power will be seen by every eye, a day when sorrows
and sighing, tears and suffering will be laid to rest.
When I began writing this sermon, Hurricane Beryl was still
in the Carribbean. It’s now knocking on the front door of our coastline,
projected for Matagorda Bay. Like many of you, I vacillate between “It’s gonna
be OK,” and “I’m on the north side of concerned heading towards the south end
of worried.” [1]It’s
a very humbling thing, isn’t it, to hear the predictions and see the video of
the devastation it has already caused, and to know it’s heading this way. In
the hurricane, we see the beauty of God’s creation that has been corrupted by
sin. God did not create the wind to tear asunder; He did not create rains to
flood; He did not create the seas to roar and foam. He does not desire that
creation or mankind should suffer such effects. Yet, here we are – yet one more
example, a powerful and frightening one – of how fallen the world is and how
much we really do suffer this side of heaven.
I don’t know what the next 48 hours will bring for our area. Part of me wishes I did, because that’s the human nature: we want to know the unknown – what Gen. Chuck Yeager often referred to as the “ugh-known.” So, we, as God’s people, watch and wait. There will be various degrees of suffering, probably, from relatively minor inconvenience to much weightier losses and struggles. What I do know is that God promises that His power is made perfect in weakness and that in our suffering, His grace is sufficient. In the days ahead - and by this I don’t just mean the immediate days post-Beryl, but every day that is ahead – look to the grace of God. In His mercy, he does not give us what we deserve. Instead, we receive His grace, His compassion, love, and forgiveness. This is enough.
If the wind comes, and with it other kinds of devastation,
loss and suffering, Christ is with you. His greatness covers your weakness.
Amen.
[1]
Dear reader: If I’m honest, I’m not really scared, just bothered by the pending
inconvenience of loss of electricity, AC, etc. First world problems, right?
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