Breakable God
Love Without Limits, prt. 3
Wildwind Community Church
David Flowers
January 17, 2010
It feels like we're sitting in a different world today than the world we sat in last Sunday at this time. Many of us are deeply affected by the news of what has happened this week in Haiti. But the world isn't any different. Before last Sunday the world was just as brutal as it was last week. Remember, before last Sunday there was Hurricane Katrina. Before last Sunday there was the tsunami in Indonesia. Before last Sunday there were wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, as there are today. Before last Sunday there was 9/11. And if you go back a little further, I suspect you can find a few other horrific things.
Why does the world feel different to some of us? It's because evil is closer than it was last week. It's more on the minds of some of us and, after that video, perhaps it's more on the minds of nearly all of us. Some of our own Free Methodist brothers and sisters from Clio died this past week. They went on a mission trip with their church. They got off the plane in Haiti and went into the mission center. One hour later, the country was struck by the biggest earthquake to hit the Western hemisphere in 200 years. We live in the shadow of constant unpredictability, of a future that is not guaranteed to us. In times like this, many people ask, "Where is God?"
So let's ask that question, but let's start smaller. Instead of where is God when a catastrophic earthquake rips apart a city and kills tens of thousands, let's ask where is God when I am lonely? Then we can work up from there. Where is God when I am discouraged? Where is God when I can't pay my bills? Where is God when someone I love gets sick? Where is God when that loved one dies? Where is God when a suicide bomber crashes a wedding reception? Where is God when another one crashes into the World Trade Center? Where is God when nations rise against one another in war? Where is God in earthquakes, famines, and tsunamis? Where is God in a world that can't stop asking where he is in every bad situation, and still can't manage to spot him even in the good things?
If you study the philosophy of religion at all, one of the first things you learn is that the argument from evil is considered one of the oldest and most convincing arguments against the existence of God. The argument goes like this.
The Argument from Evil
(1) If God exists then he is all-knowing, all-powerful, and perfectly good.
(2) If God were all-knowing, all-powerful, and perfectly good then the world would not contain evil.
(3) The world contains evil.
Therefore:
(4) It is not the case that God exists.
The question of how a good God could allow evil is as old as evil itself. So in that sense, the world HAS NOT changed since last week. It's just that every time we see evil on a huge scale, we're reminded once again of the question.
We're in a series right now about the love of God and perhaps you are wondering what any of this has to do with God's love. Or perhaps you can clearly see that it has EVERYTHING to do with it. For love is the ultimate good, is it not? And in this series, I am not simply claiming that God exists, I am claiming that he IS love, that he IS ultimate goodness. And I am making that claim just days after an earthquake that has taken the lives of tens of thousands of people, most likely including two people right down the road from here in our sister church in Clio. Now anytime you talk about God's love, you'd better be ready to hear objections from people who are struggling to believe that a loving God exists who nonetheless seems to allow evil. But any pastor who's going to stand up THIS WEEK and insist that God loves us is carrying an extra heavy load and had better be prepared to stand up under it. And that's what I hope to do today.
I am not going to do this by advancing forceful philosophical arguments, or by attempting to prove anything one way or another. Instead I'm going to do it by suggesting a different way of thinking about God. The word I want to use as we move into talking today about God is breakable. Today's message is called Breakable God. In order to talk about this idea of a breakable God, I want us to have really two pictures in our minds, both from scripture. Here's the first one:
This obviously is a modern retelling of Jesus' parable of the prodigal son from Luke 15. The other picture I'd like to get in your head is the picture of the torture and crucifixion of Jesus. Heck, you can even consider other times when he endured public humiliation. Because the point of both of these pictures is simply to focus us on the suffering, the vulnerability of God. We saw that image of the Father, allowing his child to leave, and then standing and waiting for him to return. (Jesus makes clear that this story is a comparison of the love of human fathers to the love of God the Father for all of us.) The suffering this father experienced was voluntary. He didn't have to give his son the money to leave. But he did. He honored his son's desire for freedom and, in so doing, subjected himself to tremendous suffering. When we honor the free will of another person, that's what is sometimes involved. Others will choose to make choices that hurt us on various levels. We either hide ourselves away from them, try to control them, or honor their right to determine their lives, even when it causes us pain. In the Incarnation, God made that last choice. Instead of insulating himself from us or trying to control us, God chose to honor our right to determine our lives. He did this, in fact, by becoming one of us, suffering alongside us. Suffering everything from the shock of human birth, to the ridicule at school that every kid suffers, to hitting his fingers with hammers in his dad's shop, to hunger and thirst and loneliness, to rejection from friends and family, right on up to the suffering and death of the cross.
If the entrance of God into human history was anything at all, it was God's voluntary acceptance of sufferings.
And by this I do not mean that God accepted OUR sufferings. I mean God freely accepted his own suffering.
Philippians 2:5–8 (NCV)
5 In your lives you must think and act like Christ Jesus.6 Christ himself was like God in everything. But he did not think that being equal with God was something to be used for his own benefit.7 But he gave up his place with God and made himself nothing. He was born as a man and became like a servant.8 And when he was living as a man, he humbled himself and was fully obedient to God, even when that caused his death—death on a cross.
That is why this message is entitled Breakable God. The point is not to explain why we suffer . The point is to point to something more mysterious, and far more significant, which is that when we suffer, we suffer WITH God, not because of him.
Isaiah 7:14 (NCV)
14 The Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be pregnant. She will have a son, and she will name him Immanuel.
Immanuel. That means God with us. Eating, drinking, bathing, laughing, walking, talking, sleeping, working, sweating, crying, loving, worrying, grieving, suffering, and dying. With us every step of the way. Suffering as we have suffered, and as we continue to suffer.
John 1:14 (TM)
14 The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood...
Both literally and metaphorically, Jesus was -- and is -- in the place where we live.
I'll bet at least 100 million people this week (or more) have shaken their fists at God for what happened in Haiti, and many millions more have simply struggled with their faith. But I wonder how many have entered with God into his suffering. After all, the people who were lost are anonymous to us. We do not know them and because we do not know them, we cannot love them. But the one who created them loves them, just as He created you and knows you. If he cares about the loss of your job, he cares about their loss of life -- their homes -- their families -- their neighborhoods -- their schools -- their sense of security.
This is why arguments like the argument from evil ultimately do not work -- at least not for most theists. They leave out the most important thing, which is mystery. No one understands the Incarnation of Jesus -- what it means for a person who is fully human to be fully divine. We cannot grasp that passage in Philippians where Paul writes about Jesus giving up his place with God and becoming like us. We cannot grasp the mystery of God the Son -- Jesus -- praying to God the Father through God the Holy Spirit. This is unimaginable to human minds.
I am sure that somewhere right now there are preachers suggesting that God shares in our pain. I am not merely suggesting that God shares in our pain, I am suggesting that God feels our pain far more than we do. I am suggesting that we look upon Jesus and the suffering he willingly took on, that we see the Father's suffering as he waves goodbye to the prodigal son, and we not only weep WITH God, but that we weep FOR him -- for the suffering of an infinite being must be infinite suffering. Can we bring ourselves to pray the prayer, "God, thank you that even in your own suffering and pain, you are with me and concerned for me. God, I share with you the pain you are feeling for your lost children all over the world, who are suffering and dying even now. " That moves us out of our little boxes, doesn't it? It gets us away from thinking of God as far away and aloof and immune to our suffering, and immerses us in the thought that God really did model for us, in Jesus, that he is breakable - that he is willing to suffer rejection and criticism and shame and pain and death. Both Christians and non-believers often struggle with the idea of suffering and it causes many to doubt their faith, even though God shows his vulnerability and willingness to suffer alongside of us, and even though Jesus promised us,
John 16:33 (NLT)
33 I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”
Then of course there is the account of Jesus' cousin John, awaiting execution in King Herod's prison. Jesus has done nothing to get him out of jail, and this causes John, like many of us, to doubt that Jesus is who he says he is. So John sends some people to confirm.
Matthew 11:2–6 (NCV)
2 John the Baptist was in prison, but he heard about what the Christ was doing. So John sent some of his followers to Jesus. 3 They asked him, “Are you the One who is to come, or should we wait for someone else?”4 Jesus answered them, “Go tell John what you hear and see: 5 The blind can see, the crippled can walk, and people with skin diseases are healed. The deaf can hear, the dead are raised to life, and the Good News is preached to the poor. 6 Those who do not stumble in their faith because of me are blessed.”
Those who do not stumble in their faith because of me. There is Jesus - the one we believe to be God - plainly saying that there will be times when God himself will be so incomprehensible to us as to make it difficult for us to believe. Now there's something we can say to our Christian friends whose faith is faltering, or to our seeking friends who ask us, "Why would God allow this to happen?"
We can say, "Honestly, I don't know. But the Christian story is that God has entered into our suffering with us. Jesus took on suffering and pain. In addition to that, Jesus warned us that there will be times when God himself would make faith difficult for us." Then we can say, "I realize this doesn't explain suffering, but it does explain why we can't explain it."
So is this a sermon on suffering, or a sermon on the love of God? It is a sermon which says that God is love, even in the midst of suffering. It is a sermon that is meant to remind you that not only does God love us even when we suffer, but God has taken the initiative in showing us both how to love and how to suffer. No suffering is as great as the suffering that is caused by love. Jesus entered history and showed us, with grace, how to do both. The Christian story, after all, is not "Come - believe on Christ because then you will no longer suffer." The Christian story is, "You are going to suffer. Believe on Christ and learn how it is done. Believe on Christ, and you will never suffer alone." And of course by this I do not mean simply that God will be with you as you suffer. I mean that God will suffer along with you -- that his suffering will be compounded, even, by the depth of his care and love for you. You and God, then, will suffer together. Speaking of the body of Christ, the church, the Apostle Paul writes:
1 Corinthians 12:26–27 (NCV)
26 If one part of the body suffers, all the other parts suffer with it. Or if one part of our body is honored, all the other parts share its honor.27 Together you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of that body.
So if one part of Christ's body suffers, we all suffer because we are members of the same body. But whose body is it? It is Christ's body. Have you ever said, "My body is suffering, but fortunately I feel fantastic." Of course not. When your body suffers, YOU suffer, because you ARE your body. So it is with the body of Christ. It is simply impossible for Christ's body to suffer without Christ himself suffering as well.
And that is love. When one of my daughters suffer, I suffer too. I cannot do otherwise, precisely because I cannot do anything other than love them. I do not know how to not love them, and even if I did I would not voluntarily cut myself off from their suffering. When my wife is suffering, I am suffering too -- this is because I love her. I submit to you this morning that there is no greater suffering than the suffering caused by watching those you love suffer. When I was first diagnosed with MS, I knew instantly that between Christy and me, I got the better deal. She had to watch me suffer, and when we love someone, there is no greater suffering than that. Perhaps no one captured this better than songwriter Mark Schultz in his song -- inspired by the experience of one of his friends -- about a father watching his young son suffer through cancer. He writes, in the voice of this father, praying to God:
Can you hear me? Am I getting through tonight? Can you see him? Can you make him feel alright? If you can hear me, let me take his place somehow -- see, he's not just anyone -- he's my son.
There is no suffering like the suffering that comes from love. That's because there is simply nothing like love. It moves us both to greater heights and greater depths than anything else.
So I remind you this morning, in the face of unbelievable tragedy, not only that God loves, but that God breaks, that God suffers deeply because of his love for us. I do not know why suffering and tragedy befall us in this life, but I know Jesus modeled for us how to experience these things, and warned us that things would happen to us that would wound us so deeply that our faith in God would be shaken. Earlier we looked at how Jesus did not rescue his cousin John in jail, and that shook John's faith. John in fact was later beheaded, and Jesus, who presumably could have prevented this, was so profoundly affected by it that scripture records these words:
Matthew 14:13 (NCV)
13 When Jesus heard what had happened to John, he left in a boat and went to a lonely place by himself...
For what? If you lost someone you loved, and went off to a lonely place by yourself, what would you be doing? I'd be praying and mourning. I assume that's what Jesus was doing. Perhaps, just as he struggled in Gethsemane with doing the will of God, and just wanted to save himself, he went to that lonely place and wished he could have done the same for John. We don't know all that was behind that, but we know that Jesus loved John and was deeply moved by his death. That is mystery and will remain in mystery until we reach that place where things that are right now hidden from us will be thrown out in the open and we will understand.
And so I invite you this morning into a new understanding of God. It's easy to see God as some cosmic sadist who, having power to save us from bad things, allows them to happen anyway. I invite you to remember the picture of the Father, allowing his son to abandon him, watching out the window, missing him, waiting for him to return - frankly not knowing if he ever will. I invite you to remember the picture of Jesus, who threw off the privileges of deity and became one of us, entering into our suffering, and tasting more deeply of it than most of us will ever be called to. I invite you to hear the words of Jesus, warning us that God himself will sometimes be a stumbling block to faith. I invite you to see Jesus, going into a lonely place to mourn the death of someone he loved. And as strange as this sounds, I invite you to pray not only with God through the Holy Spirit, but FOR God -- as he grieves the colossal losses of this and every other tragedy. Jesus modeled for us what it means for someone to pray for God -- as he prayed for himself in the Garden of Gethsemane. That was God praying for God, but it was also a human being praying for God. I know we can't get our heads around that, but we need to remember how deep the mystery goes as we are tempted to fall into despair over how God could allow suffering.
