October 28th 2012 - JOB 42:1-6, 10-17 NRSV

October 28^th 2012 - JOB 42:1-6, 10-17 NRSV

¹Then Job answered the LORD: 

²"I know that you can do all things,

and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. 

³'Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?'

Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,

things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. 

⁴'Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you declare to me.' 

⁵I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; ⁶therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

¹⁰And the LORD restored the fortunes of Job

when he had prayed for his friends;

and the LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before. 

¹¹Then there came to him all his brothers and sisters

and all who had known him before,

and they ate bread with him in his house;

they showed him sympathy and comforted him

for all the evil that the LORD had brought upon him;

and each of them gave him a piece of money and a gold ring. ¹

²The LORD blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning;

and he had fourteen thousand sheep,

six thousand camels,

 a thousand yoke of oxen,

and a thousand donkeys. 

¹³He also had seven sons and three daughters. 

¹⁴He named the first Jemimah, the second Keziah, and the third Keren-happuch. 

¹⁵In all the land there were no women so beautiful as Job's daughters;

and their father gave them an inheritance along with their brothers.

¹⁶After this Job lived one hundred and forty years,

and saw his children,

and his children's children, four generations. 

¹⁷And Job died, old and full of days.

***

It has been a long journey through Job. First God seemed to be playing chess with the devil and Job was the pawn, no more blameless or righteous than a wooden rook. At first Job bit his tongue and would not swear against the Lord even after his family had died, his wealth was gone, and his health decaying. Job rightly refused to believe that his suffering was in response to his sins. After a time Job finally questioned God. Job asked why he suffered, where God was, and questioned God’s power and goodness. None of his questions were answered, but God answered Job’s suffering. God pointed out to Job all the things, which Job could not do. Job could not order the sea, or the seasons, nor did he create the heavens and the earth. Job’s understanding, while valid, was not the complete picture. God gave Job a glimpse of that bigger picture. The story says that God also blessed Job again with family, and wealth. Wealth so large it seems a fairy tale.

This ending of Job seems like the line, “and they lived happily ever after.” But I think that one of the most important parts of the story lies hidden in this happy ending. It is the part where we see how Job responds to the suffering he went though and the good gifts of God. The story tells us,

“¹³Job also had seven sons and three daughters. ¹⁴He named the first daughter Jemimah, the second Keziah, and the third Keren-happuch…. and their father gave them an inheritance along with their brothers”

Job knew what it is like to have everything taken away. I imagine he could relate to the women of his time, who could own no property, who were property themselves. In the story, Job’s daughters get listed after the sheep, camel, oxen and the donkeys. Their life, without God intervening, was unjust because of the society they lived in. In the beginning of Job, Job’s sons would invite Job’s daughters over for dinner. It reads as if the daughters could not do the same in return. I wonder if Job could relate to this powerlessness. I wonder if after having everything taken away Job understood and wanted to give. I wonder if Job wanted to right the wrongs. If Job wanted to seek justice. I think through his pain he caught a glimpse of the world of the devil, a world of suffering and injustice, and he wanted to rectify his part. I think God shows us things in our suffering that allow us to see God’s world more clearly.

I wonder too, if in response to seeing God’s gifts, Job wanted to praise God. I wonder, if in response to God’s gifts not only of wealth and family, but gifts of an existence beyond Job’s control, of a creation indescribable, Job wanted to praise God.  I think sometimes when we are at our lowest, the smallest gifts of wonder hit us in a way we otherwise miss. This morning I looked out at the maple tree behind the manse. Its bark was black with rain, and the dark branches were like the borders of stained glass against yellow gossamer leaves.  I was thankful and took a picture. I had looked at that dark bark every time it rained, but it took a hard day to make me appreciate it enough to take a picture. To praise God, by taking a moment to say thank you in art.

Job says, “Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ⁵I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you."

I think sometimes it takes a tough moment to see God. It is not as if God is more or less present, but perhaps we are less present in the good times. Perhaps Job, with all his wealth, at the story’s beginning was not really noticing all God was doing. God was ordering the seasons, and God was seeking justice. God was looking at Job’s wealth and Job’s slaves, and daughters and when the devil was at work in Job’s suffering, God was working to give Job new eyes. Eyes for God. Eyes for God’s purpose in the world. Eyes to be God’s servant, to praise God, and seek God’s justice for God’s people.

Fairy tale or parable, fact or fiction, I see tangible reality in Job’s response. Throughout this story I think we learn more about Job, and more about humanity, and more about humanity trying understand God, than we do about God. This is story us, to try to understand our existence. I think we are to learn from Job in this story. To learn from his way of being. From a man who will praise God in the midst of suffering, to a man who will question God about suffering, to a man who sees the wonder of God’s created world and finds healing, to a man who seeks to respond to God’s gifts with justice and kindness. Its about us, its about you, and its about me. It’s about our stories, and our faith, and our God.

October 26th, 2012 - Sermon for the Eastern Oregon Presbytery gathering LUKE 10:38-42 NRSV

October 26^th, 2012 - Sermon for the Eastern Oregon Presbytery gathering

LUKE 10:38-42 NRSV

Now as they went on their way,

 he entered a certain village,

 where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 

She had a sister named Mary,

 who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. 

But Martha was distracted by her many tasks;

 so she came to him and asked,

"Lord, do you not care that my sister

has left me to do all the work by myself?

 Tell her then to help me." 

But the Lord answered her,

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 

 there is need of only one thing.

Mary has chosen the better part,

 which will not be taken away from her."

***

It’s been a four-sermon week, two funerals, a Sunday service, and this one for you. I did not know that was even possible. Chalk it up to the things they don’t teach you in seminary. I had tried to take some time off for self-care, but two, lets say, ‘untimely,’ deaths blew that out of the water. In addition, church members and I had begun to paint the manse. I thought I would take time to paint and think. Instead, furniture remains stacked up in the living room, and painted over wallpaper is has made a disaster of the kitchen. The stuff we moved into another room makes getting dressed an acrobatic task of jumping over plastic curtain panels their metal rods. I’ve been proud of myself for not falling over on it yet. The other morning I caught myself way past mid-fall. A mirror was next to me and I had never seen every muscle in my body work together at the same time. I didn’t even recognize myself. I don’t really recognize myself in general right now.

In seminary a friend said I was the one she knew who lived like a Mary. I was good at missing class or chapel to go explore Atlanta, or tend to a friend. I was the one who always knew the weather, because I had spent time on a run my spiritual practice. I was the one who noticed the owl in a tree, or the fuzzy caterpillar on the concrete sidewalk. Right now, I feel like it’s exam week. My college roommates would tease me when I’d get this stressed. I would be typing away at my computer and they would all of a sudden start loudly sighing, saying, “woe is me.” I would have no idea that for the last hour I had been sighing at my computer. It was their way of showing me my stress, and reminding me that it’s just a paper.

I think Martha had been sighing. She was busy in the kitchen and each task from chopping vegetables to cleaning pots, was done with an angry edge of vigor. Jesus, like other men of his time, had come unannounced and expecting to be served. On top of that her sister is just sitting there listening to him, instead of helping.

Recently, I’ve been saying to God, “Really?, Really? Now really?” I was trying to do the Mary thing, the self-care thing, the spiritual practice thing, but it seems as though my vocation is trying to make me into a Martha. "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” Even writing this sermon, I wonder, why does Presbytery give the sermon to its newest member. I barely even know anyone. I’m still just now learning how the Presbytery works in actuality. They said they wanted to get to know me, well you sure are, maybe more than you intended. "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” I have been complaining. I have been like Martha.

Yet, Jesus keeps responding, “There is only need of one thing.” Jesus keeps responding, Steve Kliewer said he’d write the liturgy. Jim Kauth drove here. Ginger Rembold is preaching for me next Sunday. Roger Harworth told me I can ask other pastors for help in emergencies. Congregation members send cards daily. A pastor’s group in town sends texts and e-mails frequently. Dale and Judy Wilkins stopped by with hugs, apples and Elk meat. Congregation members and townspeople have invited me to dinner almost every other day. The leaves are turning their bold and brilliant colors and the snow is falling painting the mountains. I mean really, congregation members are helping me pull off 6 times painted over wallpaper. And mostly, I have never felt so surrounded by prayer. It is unbelievable. Jesus has been in my house. He is sitting in my living room telling of the kingdom, and I have been complaining in the kitchen.

I wonder where we will be at this Presbytery meeting? Will we be in the kitchen, getting things done, getting lost in parliamentary procedure, getting caught up in how long a presentation is taking? Will we be worried and distracted by many things? Or will we be in the living room sitting at Jesus’ feet? Will we choose the better part?

Perhaps its not an either or. This sermon had to be preached, we Presbyterians have to meet, and Martha needed to make dinner, but maybe there is another way.

Maybe it’s about opening up the floor plan, about allowing people to see and squeeze into our tiny messy kitchen. Maybe it’s about opening up ourselves and opening up our ideas of how things should be done, maybe its about allowing ourselves to be served. Maybe we could invite Jesus and Mary into the kitchen, into the busy work, into the chores and tasks that drain us. Maybe Jesus can chop the vegetables, and Mary can clean the pots, and we can cook together while listening to Jesus. Maybe on this weekend, as we go about our agenda, as we discuss the mundane and the controversial, we can remember to invite Jesus in. Maybe we can open up ideas of how things should be done and allow Jesus to show us his way. Maybe we can allow ourselves to be served, as well as servants. Maybe our complaining can turn to praising, and our meeting can turn to worship, and our work become the better part, the only thing we need, that which will not be taken away us. 

October 21st, 2012 Job 38:1-11, 34-41 NRSV

Job 38:1-11, 34-41 NRSV

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind: 

“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? 

Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you,

and you shall declare to me.

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?

Tell me, if you have understanding. 

Who determined its measurements—surely you know!

Or who stretched the line upon it? 

On what were its bases sunk,

or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together

and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy? 

“Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb? — when I made the clouds its garment,

 and thick darkness its swaddling band, 

and prescribed bounds for it, and set bars and doors, and said, ‘

Thus far shall you come, and no farther,

and here shall your proud waves be stopped’?

“Can you lift up your voice to the clouds,

so that a flood of waters may cover you? 

Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go and say to you,

‘Here we are’? 

Who has put wisdom in the inward parts,

or given understanding to the mind? 

Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?

Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens,

when the dust runs into a mass and the clods cling together? 

“Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, when they crouch in their dens, or lie in wait in their covert? 

Who provides for the raven its prey, when its young ones cry to God,

and wander about for lack of food?

***

I can’t tell you why. I can’t tell you why Job suffered. I can’t tell you why you or I suffer. I can’t tell you why creation suffers. But I can tell you there will be seasons. I can tell you that for years gone by, and years to come, leaves will change again just as they have changed this day. This colored confetti of trees will trickle down, just like snow in winter, rain in spring, and sunshine in summer. I can tell you that just as leaves golden flecks crown the trees, so too; wildflowers will bathe the land come spring. I can’t tell you why we suffer, but I can tell you the earth continues to rejoice.

I can’t tell you why our lives cycle in and out of autumns, where everything seems to be dying; but I can tell you in those autumns also come harvest. When the world seems to be getting colder, and humanity colder still, the warmth of a smile, or a shared meal, can heat you to the point where the ice melts and tears come, because the kindness of others overflows. In these winters, fires are lit from unexpected places, and through them God’s grace abounds. I can’t tell you why we suffer, but I can tell you love still exists despite our suffering.

I can’t tell you why we suffer, but I can promise God is still at work. I can’t tell you why God allows suffering, or if God has any choice in the matter, but I can tell you God is at work all around us still.

In the story of Job, God doesn’t answer Job’s question, but God answers. God answers Job by asking a different type of question. God asks for a different type of wisdom. God asks, “Who are you? Who are you that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Where were you? Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? What do you know? Do you know the measurements of the earth? Can you?” Can you lift your voice to the clouds? They are questions Job cannot answer without feeling very small. How could Job not feel small when asked about the stars in the heavens? How could Job not feel small when asked about measurements of the earth? How could Job’s season of suffering not feel small when matched against the timeless foundation of the earth?

I don’t think God is saying Job’s suffering is inconsequential. God really doesn’t say anything about Job’s suffering. God just points to greater things, and perhaps healing things.

When I was in seminary I went through the hardest time in my life. It was an autumn followed by a long cold winter. I questioned the goodness of God. I questioned the power of God. I questioned the presence of God. How could you allow? Why didn’t you? Where were you? I was a Job, and like Job, I didn’t stop talking to God. My faith was boiled down to two remnants a belief in the existence of God, and the realization hope was all I had to hope in. In this loneliness I gardened alone.

Just as desolate as I felt, was my knowledge of gardening. I took packs of Cosmos seeds and scattered them to the wind in a little plot land. I watered, and forgot to water, and would wander down to the quiet edge of campus to my square of dirt. As the weather turned warm, sprouts began to emerge. I was in awe. Now, I know seed + dirt + water + sunlight, theoretically =s flower, but the wonder of it all isn’t so simple. I was so, so broken; yet life was sprouting, and growing, and ultimately blooming. Wispy, whimsical, flowers were floating in a sea of feathery leaves and skinny stalks. I would pick the thin pink flowers and all summer I had budvases of Cosmos in my tiny dorm room. God didn’t answer my questions, but God answered my suffering. In the majesty of creation there was healing. Alone in the garden I was surrounded by wonder and life anew.

I can’t tell you why there is suffering. I can’t tell you why people are hurting. I can’t tell you why Job had to bear so much pain and I can’t pin down God’s role in suffering. What I can tell you is that in the midst of our suffering God is sowing seeds.

God may not answer our questions, but God will answer our suffering with healing. In the death of winter stars shine steady in the sky, shifting with the seasons. There is ebb and flow, a tide rolling in and out, and a river snaking along. There are seasons responding to our suffering in ways reasons can’t replace. I can’t tell you why, but I can tell you God’s answer silences our questions with healing wonder.

October 14th, 2012 JOB 23:1-9, 16-17 NRSV

JOB 23:1-9, 16-17 NRSV

¹Then Job answered: ²"Today also my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy despite my groaning. ³Oh, that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his dwelling! ⁴I would lay my case before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. ⁵I would learn what he would answer me, and understand what he would say to me.⁶Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power? No; but he would give heed to me. ⁷There an upright person could reason with him, and I should be acquitted forever by my judge.

⁸"If I go forward, he is not there; or backward, I cannot perceive him; ⁹on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him; I turn to the right, but I cannot see him.

¹⁶God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me; ¹⁷If only I could vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face!

***

I’d like you to hear a modern day Job. This recording comes from NPR’s This American Life. The theme of the show is, ‘What Doesn’t Kill You.’ It features comedian Tig Notaro doing stand up a few days after she was diagnosed with cancer. The recording is a little long, and quite uncomfortable to listen to, there is lots of nervous laughter in the crowd, and I invite you to respond either with laughter, or silence, or tears, or even taking a break if you need to. Like the friends who come to visit Job to whom he is responding here, hearing stories of another’s pain is not easy.

Play:  This American Life: What Doesn’t Kill You,3:26 -12:00

What if this is faith? What if this sarcastic rant against God is faith? What if faith is diving into the darkness of suffering, and naming it out loud, and calling God to accountability? What if faith is being angry at the absence God? What amazes me about this passage is that Job is so angry with God yet is still talking to God. What if Job’s calling God to an argument is faith? What if faith isn’t about trite responses, but instead really questioning?

Perhaps this type of faith, faith that wrestles with God, is stronger than the faith, which refuses to question. I understand people who are atheists or agnostics a lot better than I understand those who, “grew up in the church and never questioned.” Even a loss of faith may reflect a more genuine engagement with God than a faith that refuses to allow itself to be tested.

Elie Wiesel, the Jewish writer who has spent his life attempting to come to grips with the Holocaust that he experienced firsthand as a boy in Nazi concentration camps, recounts his loss of faith in God as a result of that dehumanizing experience. He writes,

“Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night,…Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever. Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence, which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to life. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul, and turned my dreams to dust.[1]”

“Other Jews have gone even farther than Wiesel by questioning the very reality of God. We too, like Wiesel, like Job, must confront honestly and courageously, the possibility that many of our time honored doctrines about God might not stand up to the test of massive suffering experienced by individuals and communities. When the powers of nature or history so conspire against persons that their legitimate desires for a reasonable measure of happiness in life are destroyed, we dare not trivialize such suffering and despair by pointing to an ultimate consummation in which all wrongs are righted.[2]”

It’s sad, but one of the warnings I got about being a pastor in times of personal crisis is that people will say dumb things. Rev. Keith Hudson told me that after his father died in a tragic horse accident, folks in his congregation said a whole slue of really bad comments. These comments spanned from, “It was God’s plan,” to, “he is in a better place.” Others in this line of typical bad responses include, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle, or what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, or everything happens for a reason.” None of these are in the Bible, and we talked last week about speaking for God, so I won’t go there. But if you learn nothing else from this sermon, I hope you learn not to say these things to the grieving. Thankfully, maybe divorce has fewer easy standards than death, because your words to me have been unbelievably thoughtful, and have really met me where I am. But in the wider culture these phrases are well accepted and are to be challenged with the courage of Job.

---

[1] Elie Wiesel, Night, trans. Stella Rodway (New York: Bantam Books, 1982), 32.

[2] Paul E. Capetz, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4, Edited David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor,

October 7th, 2012 JOB 1:1, 2:1-10 NRSV

 JOB 1:1, 2:1-10 NRSV

¹There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.

2:1One day the heavenly beings came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan also came among them to present himself before the LORD. ²The LORD said to Satan, "Where have you come from?" Satan answered the LORD, "From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it." ³The LORD said to Satan,

"Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man who fears God and turns away from evil. He still persists in his integrity, although you incited me against him, to destroy him for no reason." 

⁴Then Satan answered the LORD, "Skin for skin! All that people have they will give to save their lives. ⁵But stretch out your hand now and touch his bone and his flesh, and he will curse you to your face." ⁶The LORD said to Satan, "Very well, he is in your power; only spare his life."

⁷So Satan went out from the presence of the LORD, and inflicted loathsome sores on Job from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. ⁸Job took a potsherd with which to scrape himself, and sat among the ashes.

⁹Then his wife said to him, "Do you still persist in your integrity? Curse God, and die." ¹⁰But he said to her, "You speak as any foolish woman would speak. Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?" In all this Job did not sin with his lips.

***

The story of Job was told as a parable during Old Testament times. I imagine a friend of Job, writing down the story, trying to make sense of the calamity that has befallen his friend. In a time with little knowledge of science, or psychology, history, or medicine, events, which we now explain otherwise, the story of Job explains using God’s divinity and power. It is not unlike how we today explain miracles, or early deaths, natural disasters, prosperity, or war. Someone pulled through a grave sickness, and is healthy, the doctors can’t explain it - it was a miracle people say. Someone’s child died, and they are told, “It was God’s plan.” Haiti gets pummeled by storm after storm, and they are told, “It is because they made a pact with the devil.” A person has enormous wealth, and they insist it is because God provided. A country goes to war, and a nation believes God is on their side. I become skeptical when people speak for God. I become skeptical when our assurance is stronger than our wonder. I become skeptical when stories like Job, seem to know everything that is happening in the heavenly places. I become really skeptical when the character of God seems to go against the golden rule. In the story of Job God does not love Job as God loves Godself.

Job is one of enormous wealth, and prosperity. He has land and thousands of animals, and servants upon servants. He is said to fear the Lord and to be blameless. Yet with that golden rule, I don’t think Job can have servants and still treat his neighbors like himself. I also don’t think anyone is blameless before the Lord. His children throw feasts and parties and ignore God. Job in turn makes regular offerings because of his children. The land of Uz seems messy before Satan ever walks in to talk to God.

By the time we get to todays place in the story, Satan has killed off every child of Job, and almost all Job’s wealth. This has been done through wars, and storms, things that I just don’t think God brings. Things that just are, things that come not because God has sent them, but because God allows them to exist.

This is the part of the story I believe tells us about God and our humanity. This is that part of the story where the parable speaks truth to our world. Whether or not God sends Satan, God allows evil to happen. Perhaps God is not all-powerful, and cannot control evil. Satan seems to have sway over God in this parable. Perhaps God is not all good, and is more like this Old Testament God. Perhaps it is all part of God’s divine plan. Perhaps Christ is the answer for understanding God. But whatever you believe there are times when we are like Job, sitting in the ashes, scraping our sores with a potsherd.

Anyone who is going to tell you why this suffering exists is trying to play God. Anyone who is going to tell you why children die, storms destroy, and wars are fought is trying to play God. I will tell you I don’t know. It’s something neither I nor anyone else can know. The existence of evil and the reality of humans suffering have been debated by theologians from the time of Job, to time of McKalya waiting for a transplant. Each person may deal with the question in his or her own way, but no one I’ve ever listened to has the same answer.

          I am also not going to look to the end of today’s scripture and tell you to be like Job, and bless God in the midst of suffering. Job says, Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” I am doubtful that either Job’s blessings or his sufferings came from God. What I am not doubtful of is that Job was suffering. What I am not doubtful of is that we at times suffer. What I believe is we are allowed to question God in the midst of it. Christ himself cried out from the cross, “My God, my god why have you forsaken me?” If Christ was allowed to question God about suffering, then I think Job and we are too. If Christ did not know the answer, I doubt the writer of Job did.

So what on earth do we learn from this parable? I say, firstly, that people suffer. It is part of being alive. Suffering exists. We are not that different than Job, or his wife. How have you suffered?

Secondly, we learn from this parable, people question and try to understand why God allows suffering. Trying to answer the question evil is part of being human. We are not that different than the writer of Job, of Job, or Job’s wife. We try to explain God all the time. So I wonder, when you look around and see suffering in this world, when you are sitting in the ash heap with a potshard, what kind of parable would you write to explain the character God? I also wonder, what would you say if you were Job, or Job’s wife?