Togethering

There is a section in the Old Testament where we follow David around in the wilderness. He stayed in the wilderness of Ziph, he stayed in the wilderness of Maon, he stayed in the wilderness of Engedi. Following David, we leave one wilderness only to find another. David is on the run. His life is in danger. His only safety appears to be in strongholds. While on the run, David is willing to lie to the priest, steal food, even pull out his sword for survival. This is not our David of choice. This is not the way we envision biblical heroes.

David’s wilderness story is surrounded by two better known wilderness stories. Between forty years in the wilderness where God’s people are struggling between worshipping idols and the Living God and forty days and nights where God’s son is struggling with the temptation of using God or submitting to God. In both worship is at stake. In both survival is at stake. It should be no surprise that in David’s wilderness story – worship and survival are also part of the plot line. (It may be surprising to find out how important food becomes in each of these wilderness stories about worship and survival).

We’ve spent the summer preaching through a series about David. Our series has been given the title “Following God’s Heartbeat.” But, this wilderness is not where you might think to find God’s heartbeat. This reminds us that following is not always pleasant and not always pleasure.

This wilderness story finds David on the run, seeking food, fighting for survival. David is a renegade, a rogue, hungry, wild. We don’t want a wild David. We don’t want a renegade David, running for his life, lying to the priest, eating consecrated bread, removing Goliath’s sword from the holy place. We want a David writing psalms and building the kingdom of Israel, a David shepherding sheep and slaying giants. We prefer a domesticated David in a tame wilderness. But we get neither. We get a renegade David in an unpredictable wilderness.

David’s story is one of death, hunger, and foolishness. But also one of wealth, feasting, and holiness. Of rescue and betrayal. Of friendship and enemies. Of escape and refuge. Of espionage and prayer. But no matter where his story takes us - David’s story, at every juncture, is about God. His story demonstrates that God is not in our control. This is not a God that we have figured out. Not one that we can predict. No matter what we are hiding or where - he knows and sees. No matter how surprising our sins - God can surprise us even more.

This may be most clear in II Samuel chapter eleven. That chapter begins “Then it happened.” David is now king and Israel is out conquering. The one that God saw in the shepherd’s field has become the one empowered by God in the battlefield. Then, we come to a turning point for Israel, a turning point for David. While others are out risking their lives, “David stayed in Jerusalem.” While his armies march forward in the Ammonite wars, David walks back and forth on the roof. From his vantage point, he is master of everything he sees. Including the wife of his servant Uriah. By the end of the chapter eleven we find that “the thing that David had done was evil in the sight of the Lord.”

As human eyes overlooked David’s potential while he shepherded sheep, they overlook his sin while he shepherds Israel. In contrast, the seeing eyes of David’s God did not overlook him as a future king, nor do they overlook his sin while on the throne.

Like David, we would like a god who could make our bad decisions go away. We prefer a god that behaves like an errand boy we call on to get our car to start, make our golf games pleasant, or beef up our checking account. We call him when someone hurts our feelings and we want revenge. We want God to be like roadside assistance, our own version of AAA, to call on him when in trouble. We are not first to think of God in such terms. At times, David appears to think that God is tame and domestic. Like David, we don’t want him to be involved in our affairs. We can work those out on our own. Like David, we do not want a God who forgives, instead a God who accommodates our sin.

This is why Mark Buchanan has claimed that even though we haven’t killed God, we have domesticated him. We try to create a convenient and predictable and tame God. The God we conjure up is nice. He pampers us. We want him to be comforting – actually what we want is for him to be comfortable. We would like for him to be our ace. To call him in from the bullpen when we need a reliever. To come out and get for us another save.

But God is not comfortable. He is not accommodating. We cannot expect him to be our errand boy. He does not fit into our box of definitions. He is on the loose. I think of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Upon finding out that Aslan is a lion, Lucy asks “Then he isn’t safe?” “Safe?” said Mr. Beaver, “Who said anything about safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.”

We may want to tame God, domesticate the faith, but our efforts fall short. We can decorate the nursery with a Noah’s ark theme but that does not eliminate the disaster of the flood. No wonder Adam and Eve try to hide from God. No wonder Jonah runs the other way. No wonder Peter denies that he knows him. No wonder David works so hard to cover up his sin. We do not know what this surprisingly wild God will do next. Still, we trust in what we do know – He is good.

I am certain that David would have been a good coach. After all, he was undefeated against the lions, bears, and giants. This summer, we have been wrestling with this one who wrestled the likes of such animals, and took down the giant Goliath. It’s a great story, David's story is full of tension and suspense. Of espionage and passion. Of power and adventure. From a shepherd boy who watched over flocks to a king who watched over an entire kingdom, his story speaks to us.

No one would have expected this unknown, unvalued shepherd boy to become the shepherd of the nation. In fact, he was deliberately sidestepped as a candidate for king. His ruddy complexion and shepherd's attire did not lead one to picture him in a king's wardrobe. Besides, he was the youngest of his brothers. Yet he was still chosen to be king. Why? Because the key to David's story is found in David's God. God did not make his decision by seniority, instead he goes against the grain of society and does a new thing. Already, one is able to see that David's accomplishments are not his. God is their source and his plans may be different than we might expect.

David must have felt very small in a big world as he looked out over the creek bank at his opponent Goliath. His brothers were angry at him. Maybe they were embarrassed at his ignorant willingness face impossible odds. But, in the midst of fear, threat, and defiance, David rises up with bold faith and conviction. He stakes his life on the power of his God.

If there were odds-makers present at this bout they would have predicted a mismatch. David's primitive sling against Goliath's shining armor. His youth against the giant's size and experience. Again we are reminded of the one who is the key to the story. It is not luck nor skill that slays the giant, but the direction of God. The odds-makers were right, this was a mismatch - the giant never had a chance. God is able to give victory against overwhelming odds.

Eventually, David became king. His winning ways continued as he led his country. But, he is not without faults. Even though he is master over all that he sees, he wants more. His story conveys the reality that even heroes make mistakes. After committing adultery with the wife of one of his soldiers, he is more concerned about his reputation than about life or truth. Who would have thought that a national leader would be guilty of selfishness and greed? Who gave biblical heroes permission to be like the rest of us?

On the scene again is David's God, he has something to say about behavior. David then remembers that there was a day when he was more concerned about God's reputation and less concerned about his own. He can not erase his past. All he can do is rely on the mercy of God.

By life's end, David accumulated a long list of successes. Yet, just as real in his life were his weaknesses. On his own, David is neither strong nor capable. But, during the crisis and changes of life - God is working. Time and again, God intervenes in situations where his people are threatened. As we wrestle with David, we get to know David's God. He reveals who he is. He wants us to be dependent on him. He is worthy of our praise. May we join David in song.

A wise friend of mine, Charles Munson, once said, there are two kinds of people. "There are those who have suffered, and those who will." Who can dispute this? Suffering is reality. We will meet people who suffer. While I can not dispute that suffering exists, I cannot claim to be an expert. We are unable to prevent it. It is a reminder that we are not in control.

Some glimpses of the world convince me that the great religion of the day is the pursuit of happiness and the absence of suffering. We try to dodge suffering as if it were not nearly as important as pleasure. Suffering is perceived as an evil to be avoided or drugged away at any cost. The world lies. Pleasure, happiness, and lack of pain are not the most important things.

I always thought that I'd be uncomfortable at funerals, in hospitals, at nursing homes. Instead, I have found that the opposite is true. These are natural places to find people ready to discuss what is truly important.

Suffering can not be overlooked as a source for meaning. Suffering reminds us that reputation and image are not everything. Suffering reveals who we really are and helps to shape us into who we will be. Suffering grants perspective and wisdom. Perhaps, in our suffering, we may gain more than at any other time of life.

Helping those who suffer does not happen quickly. It is more like a journey where we find ourselves walking alongside a suffering friend. We listen. We offer support. We pray. We remind sufferers who they are, that they belong, and why they belong. We want to help. Yet, as Eugene Peterson suggests, it is better not to offer advice too quickly.

Instead, he suggests that no matter how insightful we think we are, 1) we may not really understand the full nature of our friend's problems. 2) Our friends may not want our advice. And 3) Suffering may transform our friend's life in remarkable fashion that we can not anticipate. Instead of focusing on preventing suffering, which we will not be very successful at anyway, we should be willing to enter into the suffering. We must stop feeling sorry for people who suffer and instead look up to them, learn from them, and (if they allow us) join them.

This does not exempt me from attempting to help those who suffer. Instead, it may prevent me from making the mistake of trying to help them on my own.

A look to the Gospel account at Gethsemane shares some of Jesus' struggle and suffering. The cast of the story includes Jesus, his disciples, and the ever-present Father. It is important to note that here is found not only real people and an actual place, but that God intervenes in real situations and real places. This becomes especially important in a context where suffering is involved. Certainly it is assuring to know that God does work in such situations.

That is why the Gethsemane experience serves as a helpful context for our own response to suffering. The focus of the story is on Jesus, his struggle with human emotion and namely, the decision that he is to make in regard to his Father's will. The situation is so distressing that he is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.

How does Jesus handle this time of suffering? He repeatedly prayed that the situation would pass and requested the prayers of his disciples during this time. In fact, a large part of the focus here is on prayer. It appears that Jesus frequented this place in order to consult and commune with the Father. On this particular occasion, Jesus desired to pray alone, praying intimately to the Father concerning the crisis at hand. He continually sought the assurance that others were praying for him and expressed disappointment when they did not. Finally, Jesus prayed in his time of trial that his Father's will, not his own, be done.

From Gethsemane, there is a sense that prayer is not to be kept on reserve for crisis situations. In fact, this appears to be a key for getting through times of suffering. It is consistent communication with the Father that provides the necessary strength to prevent suffering from affecting relationship with God.

It is obvious that Jesus struggled in the garden. How does he avoid distraction? Two things emerge easily from the episode: He remains in communication with the Father; and he submits to his Father's will. This passage does not eliminate the reality of suffering, instead it acknowledges it and speaks to us in even the most distressing situations.

No one is expected to greet suffering and death eagerly as if we are about to learn something. Nevertheless, death is our teacher. Death and suffering remind us that we are vulnerable. All around us is evidence that we are not in control. There is an authority greater than we are. In the journey of grief, after recognizing our limitations, after our illusions have fallen away, we realize that all we have been given is gift.

My friend Charles is right. Reality guarantees suffering. We will encounter people who suffer. Real situations, real people, real suffering. May we receive the words of the Gospel that we might grow to help others who suffer. May we listen intently for words from the Father. May we strive to maintain communion with God. May we freely request the prayers of others in crisis situations and may we always seek his will over our own. Amen.

In the Gospel of John chapter one Jesus meets Nathaniel. It is interesting that prior to meeting Jesus, Nathaniel asks “can any good thing come out of Nazareth?” Three verses later, he is confessing that Jesus is “the Son of God” and “the King of Israel.”

What happened that Nathaniel would make such a drastic change? Jesus said upon meeting him that he had already saw him underneath the fig tree. Jesus' response is one that follows us through the Gospel, “Because I said to you that I saw you under the fig tree, do you believe? You shall see greater things than these.” I especially like Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of that statement “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The very next story in John reports that Jesus turns the water into wine. I wonder what Nathaniel’s reaction was to that. Since this was even greater than being seen underneath the fig tree, he may have thought this was what Jesus meant when he said “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

In chapter four, Jesus heals the son of a royal official. In chapter five, a man diseased for thirty eight years. Now, Nathaniel is probably thinking, I have seen it all. Jesus was right, I hadn’t seen anything before I met Him. But, then in chapter six, five thousand hungry people are fed with five pieces of bread and two fish. Then he sees Jesus walking on the water. Now, he must think, I have seen everything.

But then in chapter nine, he sees a man who was born blind. John reports that “since the beginning of time it has never been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind.” Why not? We know the answer to that, because it is impossible. But Jesus wipes his eyes with mud and asks him to go wash and he “came back seeing.” And Nathaniel must have been standing by remembering the words of Jesus, “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

In chapter eleven we have a graveside scene. This is a funeral service. Jesus arrives with his disciples. John wants us to know that Lazarus has been dead for “four days.” He wants to make sure we know this so he shares it again. We know what it means to be in the grave for four days. We don’t need to be told. When in the grave four days, it means you are dead. Lazarus is history. Its over for Lazarus.

But we want to be careful. Since we know that the bible can never mean what it was not intended to mean, we want to make sure that we understand what it was intended to mean. It was intended to mean that… Lazarus is dead. John wants to make certain that we grasp this, so he repeats it twice. He knows that once we have already heard the story, we may take for granted that a dead man can come back to life. So he emphasizes the point that there is no hope for Lazarus.

It is in this context of hopelessness that Jesus says, “let us go to him.” It is in this context that Jesus says “I am the resurrection and the life.” It is when life is over for Lazarus that Jesus asks “where have you laid him?” It is in the midst of an impossible situation that Jesus “being deeply moved within, came to the tomb.” Maybe Martha was right, Jesus was too late, if Jesus had only been there, her brother would not have died. Still Jesus said “remove the stone” and “Lazarus come forth.”

John doesn’t stutter. He doesn’t try to build suspense. He just tells us what happened. “He who had died came forth.” But even this is only a pale anticipation of what is to come.

I do not have a recipe for turning water into wine. I don’t know how five thousand people could share five pieces of bread and two fish and still have leftovers. I do not know how a man born blind can wash mud from his eyes one day and suddenly see. All I know is that this is what the bible claims to be reality.

Nothing in this life prepared us for what happened at the Bethany cemetery that day. This was not the funeral service those in attendance were expecting. Who would have thought that one who was just buried over the weekend would return to life? I wonder if Nathaniel was standing there in the crowd thinking about that first day he met Jesus and heard the words “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

The disciples never imagined that Lazarus would ever join them in worship again. They were not expecting to stop over in Bethany to join Lazarus for lunch. But John wants us to know that when Jesus returned to Bethany, they had a meal in his honor. Martha was there, she was serving (you know how Martha is). And Lazarus was there also. The story reminds us that when God is involved some things happen that we could not imagine. Perhaps on that day, if those present would have asked “how do these things happen?” they would have received a response like “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

In this reading of the Gospel, Nathaniel is found under the fig tree. The amazing thing about this is not where he was, but that Jesus said he saw him there. Later, we discover that this is really not an amazing thing at all for we “haven’t seen anything yet.”

As we follow Jesus through this Gospel, we discover that this is an understatement. Water into wine, feeding five thousand with five pieces of bread and two fish, making blind eyes see, raising a dead man. These aren’t things that just happen. In comparison, being seen underneath a fig tree doesn’t seem so impressive anymore.

As we continue to live out the Gospel, we obviously believe that Jesus continues to see us even when we are not aware. I am struck by this as I reflect on my own journey. From the Chillicothe Hospital the day I was born until this moment – he saw me.

Each one of us can be equally certain that he saw us. He saw you this morning. He saw you during your weekend activities. He has been watching your entire journey to this point. He may be calling you to something that you’ve never dreamed possible. Are we willing to respond to the God who walks into impossible situations and calls “come forth!” No matter what, be assured – “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

This past December we lost power for twenty-six hours. No lights, no stove, no refrigerator, no hot water, no furnace. The house temperature cooled to 52.3 degrees. We made use of candles, flashlights, and extra blankets – and we were reminded very clearly that electricity is gift. And that we are dependent upon gifts to survive. Also, that gifts are easily taken for granted.

Each January, the Pennsylvania State Farm Show lures us in with its livestock, shows and exhibits. Of course, the food also provides some attraction. I feel some loyalty to the State Mushroom Growers. As much as anything, shows like these provide me with easy access to a great deal of useless information (which seems to be a hobby of mine).

We dress in many layers and trek out onto South Mountain into the winter wilderness with ears wide open. All in the hopes to hear the eight accented hoots of the Barred Owl. I am reminded that one Super Bowl Sunday, Karissa, Keightley and I decided it was time to climb Cove Mountain to Hawk Rock (a lookout point about 900 feet above the Susquehanna River).

Driving from Mechanicsburg to the Interstate, we spot a Red Fox. One morning, I step out the office door and onto a skunk. Fortunately, I was more surprised than he was. We learn that one local township has had enough bear sightings to warrant a seminar on "Living With Urban Bears." One day, we saw a Black Bear, a Bobcat, and even a pack of Timber Wolves. Of course, we were at Zoo America, a local zoo featuring North American wildlife. Outside the zoo, we encounter others who journey through the wilderness. They scrape car windows. Push snow blowers. Work with a shovel. Play with a Black Labrador in the snow. Build snow people.

Another day, the temperature dropped to 15.2 degrees. I figure that makes it a good day to start a fire. So I light a charcoal fire and grill pizza in the backyard. Other activities include watching bird feeders. We identify a tufted titmouse, a black capped chickadee, a red backed woodpecker and others.

I fill up at 3.17, some day in the near future it will take fifty dollars to fill my car with gas. The wilderness is an expensive place. You never have everything you want but always seem to have enough to survive. I am reading Winter World by Bernd Heinrich. His discussion focuses on surviving winter. It is a reminder that there is much ingenuity and imagination required to survive winter in the wilderness.

Survival demands leadership. Fortunately, we are soon electing a president. Unfortunately, the wilderness can blur our vision and some will cast votes for novel reasons. Others for selfish reasons. And we will expect a newly elected official to accomplish things they are not capable of. It is true – we do forget lessons that have already been learned before.

Politics has become marketing. We do not really have the option to vote on the best candidates, but those who appeared to be the best candidates. And these determined from a primary among whom the best candidates are likely not present to start with. At the very least, we should likely require all political commercials to be proceeded with a hazardous warning that common sense and intellectual health can be impaired by watching such commercials. Not my idea, I’m just adding an amen to what Neil Postman has already proposed.

Not only politics, but any serious topic of discourse becomes nothing more than an entertainment package. Think about it; science, education, news, weather, economy, even religion have all been neatly packaged into some form of entertainment. No wonder it is easy to lose our way in the wilderness.

In spite of the ways we find to amuse ourselves, this wilderness is a dangerous place. The reasons are not always obvious. We may not fear freezing or being overtaken by predators, yet there is much to be concerned about. The dangers of this wilderness may be less visible, but they are just as real. Giving in to temptation. Living ungrateful lives. Forgetting the Giver. Selfishness. Idolatry. Apathy.

We call the fourth book of the Old Testament “Numbers.” In the Hebrew Bible it is actually titled “In the Wilderness.” The Hebrew title certainly sparks more interest. The following book, Deuteronomy, reminds us that we are always in danger of forgetting lessons once learned in the wilderness. Deuteronomy fears that the prosperity of the promised land will erase the memory of God providing in the wilderness. That we will love the gift instead of the giver. Since this fear is a real possibility, we should continue reminding one another of lessons learned in the wilderness. God’s interests are to become our interests that we might respond according to his desires. His activity must be remembered that we might remember who we are. These things - identity and the activity of God - may never be separated.

Just as bread from heaven or water from a rock, full stomachs and padded wallets are gifts. So is electricity, grilled pizza, and gasoline. Yet, instead of reminding us of how fortunate we are, these sometimes result in amnesia. In times like these, instead of pointing fingers across centuries at ancient Israel, we must ask ourselves - have we forgotten where these come from?