The Patience of Job?

You know a Job.  Just about everyone does.  In fact, as you read this post, your Job is already coming to mind.  They experience an inordinate amount of misfortune.  Emergency contacts and insurance company phone numbers are posted on their fridge.  They know which phone buttons to poke to talk to a real person at those insurance companies.  Jobs are regulars on church prayer chains and in sharing times.  Sickness, accidents, financial crises are not occasional visitors, but residents in their homes.

No one knows why some people seem to live Job lives.  If ever you find yourself thinking, "They must have done something to be in that position" then take another look at the book of Job.  It's true that there are consequences to our actions, but suffering isn't, by any means, always a result of some hidden character defect or moral failure.   And yet how often do we fall into that judgment trap?

Job's "friends" (with friends like these...) quickly deduced that Job must have done something to deserve such a rotten turn of events.  Little did they know that it was the Accuser, the satan, who had been given permission by God to "afflict" Job with any terror he wished, short of death.  And that permission presents a whole assortment of problems and questions for those who want to follow a loving God.  What sort of a God does that?  The ending of Job, when health and wealth are restored and he gets a new family, is hardly satisfying either.  I can't imagine a father thinking, "Well this kid's better than the last one anyway.  No harm no foul."  So where does Job leave us?  As a friend recently posited to me, are we simply a part of "...a big experiment and God will decide when he's ready to intervene...?"  


This week's message is the final in our four part series, Where's God When Life is a Mess?  We will review Job's trials and what he learns from them about God, friends, life.  Come to get confused, frustrated, and just maybe, closer to God.  
- Curtis

Where’s God When Life is a Mess?

Back in 1989-1990 I spent a year doing what's called a "residency" in Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at Sutter hospital in Sacramento California.  CPE is training not only for becoming a chaplain, but really for being a pastor and walking with people through all of the traumas and troubles that come with life.  One woman, whose husband had suffered a severe heart attack and was on the verge of death, sticks out in my mind for the way her faith was rocked by her husband's illness.  Mary was a kind woman, in her early 50's, who had always been a dedicated catholic.  One afternoon, we stood in a long hallway that connected hospital wings, and talked.  She spoke of her fear regarding her husband's condition.  I asked her where she thought God was in all that was happening, and she replied something like this:

Mary: I don't know.  I don't suppose I've really thought about God much.  I've prayed, but that's about it.  I think of God as being very distant from all of this.  He's God of course, and he's far beyond all of this.

Me:  Hmm. Do you have questions for God, or are you frustrated or angry with him?  (Though I knew better, I'd often stick my foot in my mouth and "suggest" to people how I thought they might be feeling...)
Mary:  Angry or frustrated with God?  No.  That wouldn't be right.  You should never be angry with God.   
Me:  How do you talk to God, then?  What do you say when you're going through a time like this?  
Mary:  Well, I pray at church.  And my church worships only in Latin, so our prayers are in Latin and everything we do is in Latin. 
Me:  So you understand or speak Latin?  That's wonderful.  
Mary:  Oh no, I don't understand it at all.  
Me:  You don't understand it?  Then how do you know what's going on in worship and what's being said?
Mary:  I don't.  But I think that's how it should be.  It's so different.  I don't think we're supposed to understand it all, do you?  There's just something about being there with the stained glass, the incense, and the chants and prayers all in Latin.  It's so mysterious and holy to me.  That's what worship is.  


We talked more over the coming days.  I shared with Mary how God might be a lot closer than she realized, and how reading the bible in English might be a good way to know God personally.  She was intrigued by the idea, as if she'd never considered it before.  A tiny hunger for something more from her relationship with God seemed to start.  But I don't know if that hunger ever deepened. Her husband went home after a few days, doing better, and that was the last I ever saw of them.

Mary has remained in my mind all of these years because she's stands at the extreme end of how some people view God as so "other," so distant that he is virtually uninvolved in what happens on this earth.  Such faith sees God as One who set the world spinning and then pulled away to attend to other matters while we humans fend for ourselves.  That brand of faith can be nice for those in religious power who broker knowledge of, and communication with, God.  But it has nothing to do with the picture of God we see in scripture.  What the bible reveals is a God who is shockingly involved, even when it seems he is not. A God who keeps the world spinning each day; who is kind and forgiving, but also angered at our destructive and selfish ways.  He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous (Matthew 5:45).  Perhaps strangest of all, God welcomes (or at least tolerates) our angst and aggravation towards him.  


During the next few Sundays, we're going to look at four stories of people in the bible who shared their heartfelt struggles in life with God. Some cried out to him in pain, others pointed a finger at him in frustration or anger.  Some questioned aloud if God had forgotten them altogether, or if he had renegged on his promises.  What they discovered about God in the process will surprise you.  This week we start with the questions of Habakkuk.  Buckle up, it's going to get bumpy.
- Curtis

Strong Medicine

Acts 3-4

Do you sometimes feel like you tip-toe around the topic of Jesus? Most of us do. Lots of things come into play. We don't want people to think we're a religious nut. There's enough of those around and who wants to fall in with that lot? Not that I'm judging, lest I be . . .well, anyway. And then we don't want to alienate people, or say the "wrong thing" or - you name it.

We tip-toe.

Not Peter.

After the resurrection this guy comes out with guns blaring, figuratively of course. No more hiding by the bonfire, denying Jesus. He's offending and alienating about everybody possible. Except those that he's saving with his sharp message. How is he able to be so insanely bold for Jesus? Why doesn't he care what happens to him? We'll dig into these questions this week.

Something to consider: Would you be willing to be as bold as Peter if you God said, "I'll do a miracle through you that will completely change someone's life and eternity"?

Making a Way

Isaiah 40:1-11
It's supposed to be easy for me. I'm a pastor, after all. It's what we do, right - talk to people about God; help people to discover that God is real and present for them. And sometimes it is easier.
I remember a Christmas party many years ago, that we attended for Ana's work in San Francisco. One of Ana's co-workers came up to me and said, "You're in the ministry right?" "Yes," I replied. "Well, I have a lot of questions about Jeremiah. I've never read the bible before, but I started reading Jeremiah, and I don't get it. Explain it to me." And so, right there in the middle of Christmas cheer, we had an hour long discussion about Jeremiah - not one of the simplest books to begin with, but that's where she was. If it were a scene from a movie, this story would end with a group of people gathering around while I waxed eloquently with deep wisdom from the scriptures and charming humor. No movie ending here. She asked lots of questions, some of which stumped me, and anyone that happened to listen in for a few minutes would wander quietly off. But this woman was truly hungry for God.
It doesn't often happen like that, especially at events where people don't know what I do. Normally it goes something like this...
(New acquaintance): "What do you do for a living?"
(Me): "I'm the pastor of a church."
(NA): "Oh."
Sudden awkward silence as the new acquaintance works through confusion about what "pastor" means, fear of impending spiritual attack, and sudden self-consciousness of the drink they are holding.
Such interactions used to bother me. I felt like a spiritual leper. But now I see them as an enjoyable challenge. What can I do to break through the pastor's stereotype and strike up a conversation? What I've found is that most people will bring the talk back to something about God if they find that I'm not going to pounce on them. They really do want to know about godly things, they just don't want to be assaulted.
Perhaps you experience the same sort of thing when people find out you are a Christian, or that you go to church. This week's passage in Isaiah 40 was the one that Luke interpreted as talking about John the Baptist's work to prepare people for Jesus' arrival. John the B was sent to "prepare the way" for the Messiah. This Sunday we'll look at how these old words might apply to our relationships with others - how we can level things out for people to know God. We'll talk about what Isaiah says, what John the B did, and how that might look in our lives today.
- Curtis