Proper 29, Year B

To Suffer, To Serve

Readings: Job 38:1-7; Psalm 104:1-9, 25, 37b; Hebrews 5:1-10; Mark 10:35-45

Two incongruous themes are interwoven throughout the readings. We are reminded once again that the Church is meant to be a serving church in the world, that greatness comes through service; but we are reminded also that service does not come without suffering. Being good and living righteously does not mean that we will not suffer. There is no short cut to God’s favour. Indeed, the path to glory is one that, more often than not, requires that the innocent must suffer.

Job struggles to understand why he is suffering while he continues to serve God. He calls on all of his resources, his friends, family and neighbours. They have many suggestions for him. “Look at the evil in yourself! Blame God! Give up!” But through it all he remains faithful to God. In one of the most poignant passages of the Old Testament, God speaks to him out of the chaos and disorder. And from those words of wisdom come the order and clarity that Job needs.

“What right,” God asks him, “do you have to question me? Do you presume to know the whole picture? Were you present at creation? What would this chaos be like if you were in charge?” Job realizes that not only does he lack knowledge; he is powerless before God. Who of us has not felt that awesome presence of God as we struggle to bring order to the chaos in our own lives?

The writer of the letter to the Hebrews presents Jesus as the Great High Priest. There is a difference though between Jesus and the rabbinical High Priests. For Jesus is both fully human and fully divine. It is that which enables him to identify fully with us in our weakness. Through his own suffering he knows the full extent of human suffering. He understands our human frailty with all of its limitations and trials. His suffering brings us into direct relationship with God.

In the Gospel, the disciples are trying to manipulate Jesus. “Promise us something!” they ask him.

“What is it you want me to do for you?”

And they ask, “Let us sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Don’t you have to ask yourself where they have been all this time? Have they ever listened to one thing Jesus has told them? Do they understand what is at stake?

And Jesus tells them why he came. “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many,” he says, explaining the purpose of his life. His life is one of service and suffering. He sets before them the example of true greatness. Jesus overturns ordinary values in society. Authority comes through service. Through his innocent suffering he serves humanity and alleviates the sinful suffering of those who follow him.

We are not much on suffering these days. Our lives are pretty easy. We can switch channels when it becomes too much for us. We can turn our heads away and avoid the poverty and suffering around us. We can assuage our consciences by sending money while avoiding the risk of danger or disease. We can persuade ourselves that it is not our fault and that we bear no responsibility for the suffering of others.

But we simply cannot avoid the fact that to be human is to suffer. It is one of the conditions of human existence. It continues to be one of the most difficult faith questions for us to deal with. Why does God not simply change the human condition? Is suffering God’s will? If we say that suffering is God’s will, what do we mean? Do we mean that God intends that we suffer? That God causes suffering? That God brings about suffering for our own good? That was certainly the message of Job’s friends. It is often, even unthinkingly, the message conveyed to people who are sick.

It is not helpful to a person struggling with cancer to hear that it is God’s will. It is not helpful to a woman involved in an abusive marriage to be told that she must go back to her abuser because it is God’s will. It is not helpful to our First Nations people to hear that their poverty and difficulties came about because they needed to turn to Christianity. Such teaching – and I assure you that none of the examples I’ve given are fictitious – turns the Church into an oppressor. And that is contrary to the message that we are called to be a serving church.
So why do people suffer? Why do good people suffer? C.S. Lewis was asked that very question, "Why do the righteous suffer?" "Why not?" he replied. "They're the only ones who can take it."
The question then becomes, how do we draw the line between suffering that is part of creation’s goodness and suffering that is harmful? The line must surely be drawn at the point at which suffering ceases to serve life. It does not serve life for a victim of abuse to stay in an abusive relationship. It does not serve life for our First Nations people to continue to live in poverty. Such suffering requires repentance on the part of the perpetrator. It requires societal change.

We must recognize that there are times when suffering, either our own or that of someone close to us, brings us closer to God; when we feel God’s presence breaking through to us. If that were not so, we wouldn’t be gathered here in this church. It happens like that moment when the sun breaks through the clouds and the rainbow forms in the sky. All of the conditions are right. We see God’s glory so clearly at that point that we find ourselves in God’s very presence. Such times of deep spiritual clarity help us to know God’s presence when times are difficult. It is the kind of experience that Job had as God spoke out of the chaos of the whirlwind. It brings order to the chaos.

It is important for us to know that God participates in human suffering. We need to know that nothing can separate us from God’s participating love. We need to really know it, because to know it is to be a vital part of God’s response to human suffering.

Suffering is part of our world. We see it in peoples’ daily struggle against sickness, poverty, disease. We see it in the indifference, the hatred, the exploitation that exist in our world. But our faith provides us with a process to deal with suffering, and ultimately to come closer to God. We need to renew, to recharge our faith from time to time, to make certain that we keep the faith. There will be wounds, even scars to remind us of the wounds. But there will also be grace that brings us closer to God.

O God, grant us the serenity and peace of knowing that you are always with us. Amen.

The Third Sunday of Lent, Year C

Disaster DIY

Readings: Isaiah 55:1-9; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9

Some people came to Jesus with the daily news. A group of Galileans had been put to death by Pilate. They had been worshipping in the synagogue. They were killed and became sacrificial offerings themselves. The onlookers were horrified by what happened. They want Jesus' opinion. Why does God allow such things to happen? Were the deaths judgement for their sins?

Jesus in turn tells the story of another disaster, a tower that fell over killing eighteen people. The accident created a sensation as such disasters do. Outrage followed. “How could God permit it?” was the overriding perception.

It was a warm and sunny day in Port au Prince as the Haitians began their day's work. Planes landed delivering people ready to enjoy a wonderful vacation. Then the earth began to shake. Buildings crumbled, killing thousands of people, leaving countless others injured. The infrastructure of a whole country collapsed with the total devastation of their capital city. During the days that have ensued there has been widespread misery. Lack of food! Lack of water! Lack of shelter! Lack of medical care for the injured!

The world was horrified by what happened. How could God permit an already poverty stricken nation to suffer so horribly? Many questioned, “Why does God permit such bad things to happen?

It is a very contemporary story! Towers do fall, building are crushed, earthquakes shatter, storms hit, tsunamis destroy, disease strikes. Some popular theologies will always assume that such events are “acts of God”, programmed by a God who punishes arbitrarily and at will.

It happens on a personal level as well. “God is punishing me because I am sick!” That is not an uncommon thought. It is also not a helpful thought. That kind of understanding of God when sickness has drained one's energy and there is none left to think of alternatives leaves one with no resources. The voices of so called friends simply echo one's own feelings. “They are always having problems. If only they would turn to the Lord.”

It is the kind of thinking that easily translates as well into common societal prejudices. “If only the unemployed would pull themselves together!” “What is it with those welfare bums? They just sit around waiting for a check so that they can head to the beer store.” Many in society have the preconceived notion that people who live in poverty are there because there is something wrong with them.



Jesus tells a parable that reminds us of our need to be in right relationship with God. It resonates with the wonderful compassion of our loving God. He tells the parable to dispel the misconception in listeners’ minds after hearing stories about terrible tragedies, that have them believing that sin and suffering are linked. Indeed, Jesus' own story contradicts the very notion. Jesus, the righteous one, suffered and died on the cross. He knew that bad things happen. He knew that it is simply part of the human condition. He wanted those who came to him for advice to see Pilate's massacre as Pilate's massacre and not as something that Pilate did by God's authority. “We cannot” Jesus is saying, “lay the blame for society’s wrongs on a few. The whole of society is responsible.” He tells the parable of the fig tree, with its image of judgement and grace.

A man has a fig tree in his vineyard that has failed to produce any fruit in three years. He tells the gardener to cut it down. It was not unusual to plant a fig tree in a vineyard. But it had to be fruitful. Fig trees require a lot of water, which in an arid climate might better be used in the production of grapes. The gardener persuades the man to nurture the fig tree for one more year and see if it will bear fruit.

The parable is a good description of what we need in order to become spiritually whole. Healing requires the right conditions. To become whole we need to make some changes in our lives. We need forgiveness for the past so that we can begin to live a healed existence. We need to stop laying the blame for what has happened in society and in our own lives and open ourselves to change and wholeness. As Christians, we need to bear fruit, to be everything that God is calling us to be. We need to be part and parcel of changing society so that it reflects God’s kingdom on earth.

Lent gives us an opportunity to come into right relationship with God. God is there to prune us and stir us up so that we can be everything God intends us to be. It is not up to us to explain human suffering. We simply cannot explain it. We cannot explain the actions of God. But we can take responsibility for one another. We can be accountable for our own lives, and for those who share our faith journey.

While we cannot explain the actions of God, we can experience God with us. Jesus is present again and again whenever we allow him into our lives. He is with us through pain and sickness. He is with us through disaster. His love quenches our thirst and satisfies our hunger. He is there reaching out to us as we reach out to others. And God’s kingdom of mercy, compassion and hope draws us in.

So how do we as Christians move towards a just and equitable society? What is our responsibility for our own actions, our community and the world? Lent is a time for generosity. It is a time for justice. It is a time for repentance. It is a time for change. Let it be a time of conviction in our lives. Let us take steps to become good stewards of God’s wonderful creation.

The Third Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 12), Year B

God’s Grace Amid Life’s Storms

Readings: 1 Samuel 17:32-49; Psalm 9:9-20; 2 Corinthians 6:1-13; Mark 4:35-41

We all know and love the story of David and Goliath. I suspect we view it as a kind of fairy tale, but it truly does not have the elements of a fairy tale. It is a far more realistic story than say “Jack in the Beanstalk”. The powerful Philistine army is lined up on the hillside. The militia of Israel stand quivering on the other. They are afraid of the secret weapon of the Philistines, the Mighty Goliath, a strong warrior, a formidable foe. David, the shepherd boy, too young to be in the army, is acting as gopher. He is delivering provisions to his brothers. He sees the situation.

“I’ll go and fight the Philistine,” he offers. What a ludicrous thought! This small boy against all that might! But no one else is willing to go, so they deck him out in armour; it just weighs him down. But he has a few secret weapons of his own, amongst them a sling, a few smooth stones from the dry river bed, skill, experience, and most important, faith. We know the story. David is able, through the grace of God, to face Goliath, terrifying, malevolent. In facing the terrible Goliath, he overcomes all odds. It becomes obvious to everyone. This is the one whom God has chosen. He is the one in whom the Lord is present. The fairy tale becomes a story of virtue overcoming strength and power. What a sense of hope that gives us!

The gospel is a similar story in many ways. It is the end of a long day. Jesus and the disciples need a break from the crowd. Jesus seizes the opportunity at hand. He and his disciples put out to sea in one of the boats. They have fished on the Sea of Galilee all their lives. They know its little quirks, it dangers. It is a very shallow lake surrounded on every side by the gentle sloping hills of Galilee. Storms can come up with great ferocity and little warning. But they need to get away, to escape the crowds.

Jesus was tired. Filled with the cares of many a busy day, tired of the thronging crowds. In fact, he was tired enough to lie down in the boat and go off into a deep sleep.

Sure enough, during the night a storm began to rage, a violent storm, life threatening. Huge waves were about to swamp their small boat. The disciples were terrified. Yet Jesus slept on. Is he simply indifferent to what happens to them? "Do you not care that we are perishing?" they cry out to him.

And he wakes up, wondering what all the fuss is about. He stills the waves and the disciples are filled with a different kind of fear and awe. The storm is nothing compared to the awesome power of this person. "Who is this," they ponder, "that even the winds and the sea obey him?" He showed his own power over forces beyond human control. God is truly with him.

It is easy sometimes to reduce a story like this to a wonder. That will just leave us wondering why we do not have the power to avert destructive hurricanes and tornadoes today. God knows we could do with such control.

But this story and the story about David and Goliath have a far more important message for us. They remind us that we are called to have faith in God, whose power and presence undergirds all of life and who undercuts false assessments of security and strength. So why do I find myself feeling terribly uneasy at Jesus’ censure of the disciples’ lack of faith? I am with them as they fearfully plead with him for help. After all, I am not beyond calling out to God in fear, “Do you not care that I am perishing?”

I have called out that way at many times in my life. I have called out in desperation. I have called out in fear. I have called out in frustration. In our day to day lives things happen that simply wear us down. Just when you think it cannot possibly get any worse, it does. Unexpected household expenses arise. Something goes wrong with the car and it needs repairs. And on top of it all you are let go at work. You are at the lowest ebb of your life. There is nothing to do but to grit your teeth and bear it.

Or is there? Somehow when we call out to God at times such as those, something happens. When the real storms of life rage somehow, somewhere, we get the energy to deal with it.

Numerous times I have observed care givers dealing with the sickness of a loved one. No matter how tired they get, no matter how discouraged, they lovingly go about the routine of caring for their every need. They forget about their own needs as they nurse their loved one back to health. Sometimes they wonder if they have the strength to endure any more. And yet the resources come from beyond themselves. They have strength enough to keep going. It seems very much like Jesus. He is bone weary. The disciples awaken him out of a deep sleep. “Peace! Be still!” he says. And the winds quiet down. The storm ends. What might we glimpse if we truly opened ourselves up to the resources that Mark tells us come from beyond?

We live in a world filled with problems – economic pressures, war and terrorism, storms and climate change, violence and crime. We feel like crying out to Jesus. We feel like laying the blame squarely on God. Then we hear the voice of reason. “Don’t you have any faith? I created, redeemed and appointed you for just such times as these. I am with you always, working out my will through you. Trust me. I won’t let you down. Your place is in the midst of the storm. That is where I have called you to be. I will be there with you.”

That is when we truly need to remember that God cares for humanity. In the midst of all our stupidity and greed, God truly cares for us. God’s grace is there for us. We don’t even have to earn it. It is there. God does not promise to cancel out all the storms of life as he did on the Sea of Galilee. We are still going to get tossed about. We may even think that God must be sleeping. What God does promise is to be with us as we face and endure the storms that whirl about us. We need to accept the promises and power and lay claim to the amazing sense of peace that comes in the midst of the raging storms that beset us. These stories show us the way. Thanks be to God.