"God is God (And We Are Not)" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday October 20, 2024
Scripture:  Job 38:1-7, 34-41



So – after taking a week off for Thanksgiving last weekend, we’re back in the story of Job this week.  If you were with us two weeks ago, you might remember the beginning of Job’s story, where he lost his home, his health, and his family in one fell swoop.  Job remained silent in his suffering, while Mrs. Job raged against God, and I suggested that both of these were an equally valid response to suffering.

 

We then skipped over the middle section of the book of Job.  In that middle section, three so-called friends showed up to offer their condolences to Job.  After sitting together in silence for a full week, Job finally opened his mouth, let out a cry, and cursed the day that he was born. What was the point of life, if he was only going to suffer?  Friend #1 suggested that Job must have sinned in some way, to have suffered so much.  Job replied that he did nothing to deserve such suffering.  Friend #2 then suggested that Job should change his ways, to turn away from his wrong-doings. Job replied that if all humans were measured against God’s goodness, all of us would fall short.  Then Friend #3 suggested that Job’s guilt deserved whatever punishment he received. And Job replied with a prayer asking for God to stop hiding and be present.

 

You can see why I have named them “so-called friends.” I think that they were more helpful to Job in that first week of shared silent grief than when they tried to offer justification.

 

We then go through a couple more rounds of argument back and forth, and a fourth visitor arrived on the scene and preached at Job about God’s goodness and majesty and justice.

 

We’ve skipped over 35 chapters of this back-and-forth dialogue before we get to the reading we heard today.  After 37 chapters, God finally speaks directly to Job, answering him with a voice out of a whirlwind.

 

We only heard part of chapter 38 today, but God’s reply carries on for all of chapters 38, 39, 40, and 41.  Even though I struggle with much of the book of Job, I love these chapters.

 

God basically puts Job in his place, and reminds him that God is God, and Job is a mere human, definitely not God.  It is four chapters of God asking a great long string of rhetorical questions.  “Where were you, when I laid the foundations of the earth?  Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and have you caused the dawn to know its place?  Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail?  Can you establish the movement of the stars in the heavens? Can you satisfy the hunger of the wild lions?  Do you give the horse its might? Is it at your command that the eagle soars up and makes its nest on high?” And on, and on, and on, and on.

 

At one point, God demands an answer from Job, and Job stammers out a short reply.  “See, I am of small account; what shall I answer to you, my God?”  God continues their questions, and finally Job is able to formulate a response.  “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”

 

(And in case you are curious, in the closing chapters of the book, because Job has been able to understand that God is God and he is not, he is experiences a reversal of fortune, twice as much as he had before – wealth, and livestock, and children.  And Job lived for 140 years and saw 4 generations of descendants before he died, old and full of days.)

 

Like I mentioned two weeks ago, Job is a book that wrestles with questions of tragedy.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  How do we respond when faced with un-understandable tragedy?  How do we make meaning out of tragedy and loss?  These are questions that are fundamental to the human experience.

 

And I think that the answer that this book gives us is that they happen for no reason.  Bad things just happen.  Job’s tragedies didn’t happen because he was a bad person, or because he did something wrong.  And likewise, his fortunes were not restored at the end of the story because he was an especially good person, or because he prayed the right prayer.  Things just happen.

 

And to me, the message that I can take away from God’s reply to Job from out of the whirlwind is that God was there all along; God was with Job through the tragedies, even when, in his grief, Job wasn’t able to sense the divine presence.

 

God is God and we are not.  God is the Creator of all that is – of everything that we can see, and of everything that we cannot see.  God is the only one who can bring the morning stars together to sing with joy.  God not only created the land and the seas and all of the animals and birds and fish; but God also cares for each and every one of them, making sure that the animals have food to eat and water to drink.  And if God loves and cares for all of them – even for the sea monster Leviathan who shows up in chapter 41 – then of course God loves and cares for Job.  And of course God loves and cares for you.

 

God loves you – you are a part of God’s beloved creation, alongside the stars and the lions and the horses and the eagles.  God cares for you and for what you are going through in your life.  And just like God was with Job through all of his suffering, God is with you whenever you are suffering, even when pain and grief don’t allow you to perceive that divine presence.  There is absolutely nothing that could ever make God abandon you; or that could ever make God stop loving you.  Just as Job was precious to God, you too are precious to God.

 

I want to end today with the poem that is printed on the back of the bulletin, written by pastor, poet, and hymn-writer Steve Garnaas-Holmes.  This one is simply entitled “Job.”

 

Last night I woke from a dream of doom

fearing for the future of the world,

mummy-wrapped in despair, dread burning hot

in my basement. I couldn’t sleep.

 

When fear for the world overtakes me

I join Job on the ash heap, questioning suffering,

ranting against injustice, suffocating for hope.

 

And God answers.

Creation is bigger than you,

and greater than your suffering, even greater,

far greater, than all the suffering of the world.

It’s hard to see from your little corner

but the universe is good, and beautiful.

Stars and whales sing of it; your breathing proclaims it.

My grace is in it; my hands are beneath it all,

and you belong to it, even as you are,

though you can never know this mystery,

your part in this wonder and blessing.

 

My dread is small, even all our death;

God’s goodness is infinite. Praise.

 

 

“Lord Answers Job Out of the Whirlwind”

William Blake circa 1805-1806

Used with permission.

"At the Intersection of Thanksgiving and Hope" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday October 13, 2024 (Thanksgiving Weekend)
Scripture:  Joel 2:21-27


This is Thanksgiving weekend – a time when we gather with friends and family, a time when we enjoy a feast that celebrates this year’s harvest, a time when we have an opportunity to appreciate the spectacular fall colours everywhere we turn.  This is a weekend when most of us make time to pause and to say “thank you” – a weekend when we give thanks to the people in our lives, a weekend when we give thanks to the land and to the farmers for feeding the world, a weekend when we give thanks to God, the Creator of all that we can see and of all that we cannot see.

 

In times of abundance, it is easy for us to remember to say thank you for all that we have.  When we are surrounded by our loved ones, when we have plates overflowing with delicious food, when the rest of creation is being kind to us and allowing us to appreciate the beauty of the natural world – in these times, gratitude comes easily.

 

But you all know me well enough at this point to know that I have to ask the question – what about the other times?  What about the times when we’re experiencing the loss of a loved one, whether through death or estrangement?  What about the times when it is a challenge to put any food on your plate, let alone a feast?  What about the times when it seems as though creation is out to get us – I’m thinking this week especially about the people of Florida who have been hit by not one but two major hurricanes in the space of just a couple of weeks.  Should we be expected to give thanks in those times too?

 

I think that the Ancient Israelite people in the time of the prophet Joel must have had similar questions.  Joel is an interesting little book. It’s short – just 3 chapters long, and I confess that it’s one of those books that I need to use the table of contents to find in the bible.  We don’t know anything about Joel himself, other than his father’s name was Pethuel.  There is nothing in the book that ties the events he is writing about to historical events written about elsewhere; and I’m not a Hebrew scholar, so I trust the experts who date this book using language to relatively late in the Old Testament timeline, just a couple hundred years before the birth of Jesus and long after the major events of the Old Testament like the Exodus with Moses, the Kings of Ancient Israel, and the exile in Babylon.

 

And yet despite its shortness and its situation outside of the major story arc of the Old Testament, this book has a seemingly disproportionate significance in the cycle of the church year.  We hear bits of Joel read on Ash Wednesday at the beginning of the season of Lent; we hear other bits of Joel read on Pentecost, either on its own or as quoted in the second chapter of the Book of Acts, about the Spirit being poured out on all flesh. And then we hear Joel again on Thanksgiving weekend. It is a book that really does punch above its weight!

 

What we can dig out from the book of Joel, is that the people in his time and place (whenever and wherever that was) had faced or were facing some sort of environmental disaster.  The opening chapters of the book make reference to locusts devouring everything in the field, it compares the locusts to an invading army laying waste to orchards and fields so that the ground is mourning, the wine dries up, and the olive oil harvest fails.  Joel also writes of droughts that have dried up the waterways, and wildfires that devour the fields and forests.  The language then becomes apocalyptic, describing a day of darkness and gloom, of fires in front of and behind you charging at you like war horses, of earthquakes, and a dimming of the sun, moon and stars.  Joel says, way back in chapter 1, “Surely joy withers away among the people.”

 

Yet, after all of these horrific images have been described in great detail, there is a promise of restoration, and that is the part of Joel we heard today.  Joel talks about a reversal of all of the horrors of the first part of the book, with drought replaced by abundant rain, threshing floors full of grain and vats overflowing with olive oil and wine.  The people will eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of God.

 

Reading through the whole book of Joel this week, I don’t think that I was able to come to a satisfactory answer to my questions about whether we should give thanks in the hard times of life too.  Should the people of Florida give thanks, even as they are trapped by fallen trees and houses have been swept away by wind and by water?  Should the people of Gaza give thanks as their homes and hospitals crumble around them?

 

But what I do see in Joel is a message of hope – a message that the bad times won’t last forever.  Hope is always looking to the future.  Hope looks at the world as it is, says, “well, this sucks” and then hope reminds us that the bad times won’t last forever.  The drought will end and rain will fall.  The famine will be over and there will be plenty to eat.  The war will be over, and rebuilding will happen.  Hope gives us confidence, to borrow a phrase from author Frederick Buechner, that the worst thing is NEVER the last thing.

 

I don’t know where each of you is in your life this Thanksgiving weekend, but if you are hearing these words from Joel from a place that feels more like the locusts and drought and wildfires from the first part of Joel, the message for you is that these too will end.  Trust that God is with you through whatever it is that you are going through, and a time for feasting and rejoicing is coming.

 

And if you are hearing these words from Joel from a place of abundance and peace, then the message to you is also clear.  Like the soil and the animals of the field, be glad and rejoice! Like the people resorted, be glad and rejoice in your God!  Feast and be satisfied and praise the name of your God!

 

But maybe in the midst of your feasting and praising and rejoicing, I might add another little nudge; and that is to remember that not everyone is there yet.  There are still people living through the locusts and droughts and wildfires of the beginning of Joel.  And the challenge that this carries to the rest of us is – is there some way that our rejoicing and thanksgiving can flow into generosity?  Can part of our gratitude be giving support to people who are still in the literal or metaphorical locusts, droughts, and wildfires?  For in doing so, we can not only offer material support, but we can also help strengthen their hope until they too can reach a place of rejoicing.

 

Maybe this weekend, as you gather with your loved ones to give thanks and share a feast, you might also want to talk about how your gratitude can be expressed through generosity.  Maybe you want to make a donation to the Food Bank or Hestia House or Romero house.  Maybe you want to make an extra donation to Mission & Service so that God’s love can reach people who need to know that love across Canada and around the world.  Or maybe you want to bring good news and hope to non-human parts of creation by investing in a way to live that leaves a smaller environmental footprint.

 

This weekend, let us all live at the intersection between hope and thanksgiving, with hope that the worst thing is never the last thing, trusting that a time of rejoicing is coming; and with Thanksgiving flowing into generosity that strengthens the hope of those who are still waiting.

 

And may it be so, not just this weekend, but always.  Amen.

 

 

What are you grateful for today?

How is your gratitude going to become generosity?

Image Credit: K. Jones

"Why Do We Suffer?" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday October 6, 2024
Scripture Reading: Job 1:1, 2:1-10


I will be the first person to confess that the Book of Job troubles me, and I know that I’m not the only one. When I was off on Sabbatical earlier this year, I downloaded a couple of bible studies for the Wednesday morning group to use, one on Job and one on Ecclesiastes, and the first thing that I heard from the group when I got back in May was “We don’t like Job.”

 

Our reading today introduces the book, but it also skipped over most of Chapter 1, so let me just give you a quick summary of what happened first.  We heard that Job was blameless and upright, a good man who revered God.  Chapter 1 also tells us that he was a wealthy man, with many children and much livestock; but he never forgot to give thanks to God, knowing that God was the source of all that he had.  Then, in Chapter 1, we encounter the first dialogue between God and Satan (whose name literally means the Accuser or the Tempter), where God is bragging about Job’s faith, and Satan says that Job has it easy, because look at all of his material belongings, no wonder that he is faithful.  God and Satan then make a bet – God believes that Job will remain faithful even if he has nothing, but the Tempter believes that Job’s faith will falter if he has nothing.

 

Then, in one fell swoop, all of Job’s livestock are taken away by raiders, and a building collapses killing all of Job’s children.  And Job mourns – he tears his robe and shaves his head – but he also remains faithful to God, saying “the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

 

And then we come to chapter 2 that we heard today, and Job’s tragedy continues.  God and Satan, the tempter have another conversation, and God continues to brag about Job’s faith.  Even throughout his tragedies, Job has remained faithful.  But the Tempter still wants to tempt Job away from worshipping God.  Satan says, “That’s nothing. It was just things that Job lost.  What will Job do if his own health is affected. Surely he will forget to praise you when the tragedy touches his very body!”  So God agrees, Satan inflicts a painful affliction on Job’s whole body, and yet still Job doesn’t lose his faith.

 

His wife doesn’t understand.  She says to him, “Do you still persist in your integrity?  Why don’t you just curse God and let God strike you dead?”  But Job replies, “Why should we only receive the good things in life, and not the bad?”

 

On the surface, it seems as though Mrs. Job is on the side of Satan, tempting her husband away from worshipping God.  But that interpretation troubles me.  I don’t think that God’s ego is so fragile that our questions or even our anger would bruise it.  I sometimes say that God can handle our questions, our anger, our grief better than any human can.

 

And also, if we believe that God is love, if we believe that God’s love is unconditional, then our anger, our questions, shouldn’t have any effect on that love.

 

Those of you who are parents might be able to relate to this.  Especially in the teenage years, children can say some very cruel things – things that are intended to cause hurt.  But even in your hurt, you don’t stop loving your children less.  In your compassion, you know that hormones are raging, you understand that they are figuring out who they are, you understand all of the different pressures and expectations that they are trying to navigate, you know that they are lashing out at you because you are a safe person to receive their anger.  You are hurt, but you still love them unconditionally.

 

And if a human parent is able to be this compassionate, think of how much more compassionate God is.  Our questions, our anger, our words – none of these can ever make God love us less.

 

In some ways, I almost wonder if Mrs. Job’s response is just as faithful as Job’s response.  We don’t get to see Job’s thoughts that led him to his words, that led to his acceptance of the bad alongside the good.  It’s likely that he has been wrestling with similar questions of “why me” as his wife, but we don’t get to see his inner dialogue.  We only get to see the conclusion that he has come to – that life brings both good and bad.

 

But Mrs. Job has lost just as much as her husband has. The children that she has carried in her body have all died, and her family’s livelihood has been lost.  And she doesn’t hold back from blaming God.  (With very good reason, as we have seen in our behind-the-scenes view of the theatre of the heavens.)

 

I don’t know about you, but when I’ve experienced loss, one of my first reactions is to be angry at God.  When my brain is trying to make sense out of loss or tragedy, there is often no meaning or sense to be found, so God is the only one I can blame.

 

I also need to point out that Mrs. Job is not struck dead, despite her outburst. If cursing God was all that bad, surely she wouldn’t have survived this moment.  But she did.

 

Job is a book that wrestles with questions of tragedy.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  How do we respond when faced with un-understandable tragedy?  How do we make meaning out of tragedy and loss?  These are questions that are fundamental to the human experience.

 

It's not a historical book.  There has never been a place called Uz.  There are no indicators of when the book is set – no historical references.  It is almost as if the book begins, “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away.”  It is a story written specifically to wrestle with questions of suffering.  And while I don’t agree with the premise of the book, that God permits suffering, I do relate with the urge to try and find meaning in suffering.  There must be a reason for it, so why not a wager between God and the Tempter?

 

We’re going to get more of Job’s story in two weeks’ time (next weekend is Thanksgiving, and it didn’t feel right to focus on Job on Thanksgiving weekend) when we’ll hear how the story ends; but for this week, the message that I will take away is that there is no wrong way to respond to tragedy.

 

Whether you respond like Job, steadfastly praising God through the bad times as well as through the good; or whether you respond like Mrs. Job, shouting at God, cursing God, or blaming God – both of these are faithful responses.  And there is nothing about how we respond that will ever shake or lessen God’s love for us.

 

No matter what tragedies or curveballs life throws your way, you are a beautiful and beloved child of God.  You are loved more deeply than you can ever know.  God’s unconditional love is always wrapped around you like a warm blanket or a hug, whether our senses are able to perceive it or not.

 

Thanks be to God.  Amen.

 

 

“Figure of Job” circa 1750-1850

Used with Permission