suffering

Widows, weakness, and walking in faith

God is with those who are suffering – he has suffered with us and for us


Readings for the 25th Sunday after Pentecost:


When I lived in the South, I had an acquaintance in our neighborhood who was an airplane pilot. He was working for a large televised ministry, piloting the private plane used by the ministry’s leadership. His mother watched the televangelist’s broadcasts. She was a devout believer in God, and felt that the ministry was doing God’s work. She was on a fixed income. Her Social Security benefits were not large. Nevertheless, she regularly sent in large portions of her income as gifts to the ministry—more than she could afford. She had been doing that for years, since before her son started as private pilot for the ministry. The longer her son was working for the organization, the more her habit of donations bothered him. He was fine with supporting her from his own income with anything she needed. But from the inside of the ministry, he was seeing how the mail-handling staff was tasked to go through bags and bags of mail quickly and pull out the checks. The checks were directed for deposit to the ministry’s accounts. The letters sent with them mostly were ignored. A handful of prayer requests were plucked at random from the hundreds of letters, so the preacher could feature those on air. The rest of the letters and prayer requests were thrown away without being read by anyone. 

The pilot’s mother had a heart devoted to Christ, and surely the Lord was with her and loved her—whether or not she was sending in donations to the TV ministry. The duplicitous  ministry, on the other hand, was veering away from truth and integrity and love. As the Book of Proverbs advises, “The Lord hates it when people cheat others” (Proverbs 11:1 NIrV).  “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who act faithfully are his delight” (Proverbs 12:22). 

Eventually, the pilot walked away from his job with that ministry organization, because the arrogance and affluence of the top people—and their dishonesty—was so at odds with the trust and hopes of the people they were supposed to be serving. It’s not unlike the situation that existed when Jesus observed the way things were at the temple in Jerusalem many years ago. Jesus pointed out the contrast between the high and mighty religious leaders and the ordinary folks who came to express their faith. In that temple environment, Jesus publicly said to watch out for those who make themselves the center of attention in matters of religion. Beware of those, he said, “who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces” (Mark 12:38-39) and yet devour widows’ houses—taking their property from them, “exploiting the weak and helpless” (Mark 12:40 The Message). Jesus focused his attention on a poor widow who came and put into the temple offering two small copper coins, worth the equivalent of a penny. “Truly I tell you,” Jesus said, “this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury” with amounts they could afford from the abundance of their wealth. Out of her poverty, this faith-filled widow was putting in “everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mark 12:42-44).

The people who looked like they were the most important in the goings-on at the temple in Jerusalem were really only self-important. They were proud. They were puffed up. As Scripture has said in another context: “Their spirit wasn’t right in them. … Wealth is treacherous; the arrogant do not endure” (Habakkuk 2:4,5). “But the righteous will live by their faith” (Habakkuk 2:4).

Let’s take another example, going back about 900 years before Jesus’ ministry in Judea and Galilee. A king named Ahab had come to reign over Israel, with fortresses/palaces in the cities of Jezreel and Samaria.  King Ahab enhanced his power by marriage to a Phoenician princess named Jezebel. Jezebel made her country’s worship of Baal and Asherah (fertility deities) a prominent part of her reign with Ahab (cf. 1 Kings 16:31-34). Ahab and Jezebel sat in the power positions and seemed like the important ones in Israel.

Bernardo Strozzi, Elijah & The Widow of Zerephath, 17th century

But that’s not how our Lord saw things. Through Elijah, the LORD announced that the opposite of fertile harvests and abundant blessings would be happening for them. Elijah prophesied, “As the Lord the God of Israel lives …there shall be neither dew nor rain these years” (1 Kings 17:1). Elijah became public enemy #1 of the Ahab and Jezebel regime. During those years, Elijah took refuge at the home of a widow in the coastal city of Zarephath, which was actually located in Jezebel’s home territory. It wasn’t where you’d expect to find an ally for the LORD’s prophet, but the LORD told Elijah, “I have commanded a widow there to feed you” (1 Kings 17:9). And indeed she did. She had almost nothing left when Elijah encountered her. She was gathering a few sticks for a fire. She planned to use her last little bit of flour and oil to make one last meal for herself and her son before they succumbed to starvation. Elijah offered her a promise from the LORD: “The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the LORD sends rain on the earth.” (Cf. 1 Kings 17:10-16.)  Later in their time together, the widow’s son became severely ill and died. Elijah prayed, “‘O Lord my God, let this child’s life come into him again.’ The Lord listened to the voice of Elijah; the life of the child came into him again, and he revived” (1 Kings 17:21-22). The widow’s faith was strengthened further in the LORD God of Israel (1 Kings 17:24). Life was not easy for them, but the LORD was with them.

Where was God in Elijah’s day? Was he with the rich and powerful, the high and mighty? No. Those at the top may have thought they had it all—but it was not by God’s blessing. An unassuming widow found favor with God. A faithful prophet found favor with God. They were the ones actually experiencing God’s blessing.

Where was God in Jesus’ day? With society’s policy makers and self-satisfied religious leaders? No. A worshipful widow, trusting God to meet her needs, was noticed by Jesus and held up as an example. 

Where is God today? Do we look for God’s presence and signs of God’s blessing in the wrong places? Do we revere the wrong people or look in the wrong direction for what it means to have a blessed life? We give TV coverage to a billionaire doing the first-ever civilian spacewalk (in a flight he paid for on another billionaire’s rocket ship) and think, “Wouldn’t that be so cool if I could do that?” (See BBC story, 9/12/24.) We heap our adoration on rock stars and pop stars and country stars and sports stars and movie stars and dream of living a life like theirs. 

But where does God truly show up and make his presence known in our world? “This is where God shows up: in the confessing of our sins, and the bearing of one another’s burdens, and being there in solidarity with those who are bearing crosses. That’s where God shows up” (Tripp Fuller, Faith-Lead, 2024). Another insightful writer has said, “God is more likely to be found in the lives of people at the bottom of the ladder where life is messy, than at the top where life is comfortable and secure. These hurting places are the arenas where Jesus lived, worked, and taught, and this is the arena to which his followers are called” (Kurt Struckmeyer, FollowingJesus.org, 7/1/2018). 

Think of what it was like when Jesus himself was on this earth. Who seemed important then? At the time of Jesus’ death, who seemed like the winners and who seemed like the losers? Didn’t it seem like the Roman empire and the Roman governor and the mobs who screamed against Jesus had all the power? That Jesus and his followers were nobodies, rejects, worthless? Where was God when Jesus was suffering? You could even hear Jesus cry out in anguish and abandonment, “My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)  But his Father was not abandoning Jesus forever. The divine Spirit would invigorate him again. Jesus was doing what he was doing—suffering and dying—for us, to redeem us. He came to us in our world because our world is full of misery and death. As human beings, we have flesh and blood and are subject to death. So Jesus came and “shared the same things, so that through his death he might destroy the one who has the power of death … and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Hebrews 2:14, 15).  Christ offered himself once, for all time, to bear the sins of all humanity. And the resurrected Jesus, having dealt with human sin and misery by his own suffering, promises us that he “will appear a second time … to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (Hebrews 9:28).

Pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, while he was imprisoned by the Nazi government that later would put him to death, wrote in a letter from prison:

  • God allows himself to be edged out of the world and onto the cross. God is weak and powerless in the world, and that is exactly the way, the only way, in which God can be with us and help us. Matthew 8:17 (He took up our infirmities, and bore the burden of our sins) makes it crystal clear that it is not by his omnipotence that Christ helps us, but by his weakness and suffering.
    This is the decisive difference between Christianity and all religions. Man’s religiosity makes him look in his distress to the power of God in the world [wanting God to show up with some miraculous, immediate solution.] … The Bible, however, directs us to the powerlessness and suffering of God; only a suffering God can help. … The God of the Bible conquers power and space in the world by his weakness. …
    Humans are challenged to participate in the sufferings of God at the hands of a godless world. … It is not some religious act which makes a Christian what he is, but participation in the suffering of God in the life of the world. … One must abandon every attempt to make something of oneself … [and take] life in stride, with all its duties and problems, its successes and failures, its experiences and helplessness. It is in such a life that we throw ourselves utterly in the arms of God and participate in his sufferings in the world and watch with Christ in Gethsemane. That is faith, and that is what makes a human and a Christian.

(Letter from 1944—see D.Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, 1997)

Let me close by saying this:
You might be a widow struggling with loneliness and limited resources.
You might be a common laborer, figuring out how to make a living and make ends meet.
You might be a farmer, navigating the uncertainties of unpredictable weather and an unpredictable economy.
You might be a parent, at wits’ end trying to manage family life and all its worries and difficulties.
You might be a child, not sure yet where or how you fit in or where life is going for you.
You might be a neighbor or friend, seeing other neighbors and friends who are hurting and wanting to help them—even though you may be hurting too and wondering why life is so hard.
You might be anybody, facing shortages, facing sickness, facing loss, experiencing all manner of the things that go wrong in this world. But you have one certainty: Jesus has experienced all these things and more, and he sees you. He knows you. He is with you. We do not have a Savior who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, our troubles, our struggles, our feelings of unimportance and helplessness.  “We  have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

As people of God, we carry one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), and together we all carry our burdens to Christ, who indeed does give rest to our souls (Matthew 11:29). 


Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow

Responding to evil and trouble in this world

Thoughts in remembrance of 9/11

public domain image from picryl.com

This past weekend, CBS news program “60 Minutes” rebroadcast their 2011 special, “9/11: The FDNY,” recalling the efforts and sacrifices made by firefighters responding to the attacks on the Twin Towers in New York City

9/11 made us ponder also theological questions about horrors and tragedies that occur in this world. I’ll share here devotional thoughts that originally were The Electric Gospel message in September 2001. (At that time, The Electric Gospel was in email form, sent to an electronic mailing list of college students as part of a national campus ministry program.)

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Responding to evil and trouble in this world

Planes hijacked. Skyscrapers plummeted to the ground. The seat of strength of our military might—the Pentagon—ruptured, fractured, broken, burning. What are we to think?

Why would God let such things happen? Why would God let planes crash and buildings collapse? Is America so sinful that God decided to punish us? Were the people aboard the hijacked jets under a sentence of God’s judgment? Were the people in the World Trade Center less godly than others, so God was okay with letting them die? Those thoughts surely are a misinterpretation, for this is the God who said he would have spared Sodom and Gomorrah had there been ten righteous people living there (Genesis 18:32).

Why would God let terrorists succeed? Why has he let evil people have their way? Is he approving of their evil? Is he unable to put a stop to evil? Neither thought is acceptable. We believe the word that the LORD is not a God who takes pleasure in evil (Psalm 5:4) and cannot be tempted by evil (James 1:13). We believe the promise that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37), that the Lord has all authority in heaven and on earth (Matthew 28:18).

So then, what are we to say when evil and trouble occur? How do we respond to tragedies in this world?

Let’s ask someone who can give us an answer. Here is what Jesus himself had to say on the subject:

  • There were some who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did” (Luke 13:1–5).

We don’t know all the details about the incidents mentioned in Jesus’ comments. Clearly, they were well-known current events in Jerusalem at that time. One was an example of brutal, terrorist-type activity. Pontius Pilate ordered the massacre of certain Galileans in the temple courts where sacrifices were brought. They may have been suspected as revolutionaries. Roman methods for dealing with such suspects were typically swift and severe. They kept people in line by engendering fear. The other event was not one of malicious intent, but simple structural failure. A tower toppled and eighteen people were crushed underneath it.

One event a horrific crime, the other an accidental catastrophe. Regardless of the circumstances of the deadly incidents, Jesus says our response should be the same. Repent, or we also will perish.

Jesus’ words at first strike our ears as harsh. When people are murdered, our immediate reaction is outrage. When tragedies take lives, our main inclination is to mourn. But Jesus urges us also toward repentance. Why?

It comes down to an understanding of the shortness of this life and the necessity of clinging to God. We live in a world where death happens every day. We speak of many deaths occurring from natural causes, but there is nothing truly natural about death. Death entered the world through sin (Romans 5:12). The violation of God‘s commands is the reason that human beings die. Death has been a curse to us since sin entered into our world, with sin damaging us all along the way. Sin rears its ugly head in every ugly form it can find. Death takes its toll whenever and however it can—through crime, through disaster, through disease, through the decline of old age. We sin and we die. That is the story of human life and human history.

If we think we can make humanity immune to sin and death by self-help programs, we are mistaken. If we think we can make the world more secure by our own human efforts, we are mistaken. We are caught up in a world where there is sin, and we do die.

That is why Jesus said, “Unless you repent, you too will all perish.” Everybody in this world does perish, and one way or another. Whether it comes by the blade of a soldier’s sword or the bricks of a buckling building, whether by the bullets of a drive-by shooter or the winds of a tropical storm, whether by the hatefulness of an international terrorist or just that your heart stops beating while you sleep in your bed at night … the fact is that you and I and everyone else will face death. Whether we die of what are deemed natural causes or die in tragic ways, death is a reality we cannot avoid. We are not the solution to our own problem. We are people in need of a restored link to life with God. That is why Jesus urges us to repentance. He wants us to understand our need, our helplessness … and the hope that we have in him.

The meaning of repentance is not just recognizing our sin and weakness. It also means recognizing where help is to be found and turning to the one in whom there is help. We need trust. We need strength. We don’t get those things on our own. We are brought from death to life by the living God.

Jesus followed his words about crimes and disasters by telling a parable. He spoke of a fruitless fig tree that was wasting the soil in which it stood. By all rights, the orchard owner could hack such a tree down right away. But that is not God’s gardening method. Dig around It, fertilize it, nurture it, give it more time (Luke 13:6-9). That is what God does. In spiritual terms, what does that mean? It means God is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9). We call our time on this earth a time of grace. If God were to wipe out all evil before it ever occurred, he would have to stop each of us human beings in our tracks. Not a single person could continue acting if God were to eradicate all evil by force, by wiping it off the face of the planet. We all have tendencies toward evil and weakness and sin. We are all stained with guilt. God did not choose to deal with evil by destroying sinners. He chose to answer the problem of evil by sending the solution in Christ.

Rather than launching destruction against every evildoer, the LORD laid on his own Son the guilt of all the world (Isaiah 53:6). Christ himself became the object and sufferer of every imaginable human evil. He was mocked and spit upon. He was slapped, punched, clubbed. He was whipped with ripping shards of metal tied to leather, tearing his flesh, bloodying his back. He was nailed hand and foot to hunks of wood, and hung up to die as a victim of mob rage and governmental violence. He was made the scourge of all the world. More than that, he was made the target of God’s own justice, carrying on himself the penalty of all sins. “It was the will of the Lord to crush him with pain” (Isaiah 53:10). That is how God answered evil and death. He gave all us life by the death of his one eternal Son.

So, when we see horrors happen in our world, how will we respond? Let us meet those events with humility and repentance. We know that all of us—along with all the rest of the world—need redemption. We also meet those horrors and tragedies with faith. We set our hopes not in this world or anything of this world, but in Christ, He suffered all things and satisfied all justice on our behalf. In him, we are saved.

We do not know what will happen tomorrow. We do not know what will be the outcome of any present or future war. We do not know if the USA will endure for centuries to come or not … or whether Judgment Day itself may be just around the corner.  What we do know is that Jesus is our Savior. He has purchased and won us from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil with his holy precious blood, and with his innocent sufferings and death (Luther’s Small Catechism). That is the basis of our hope on the best of days in this world. That is the basis of our hope on the worst of days also.


Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow

God is with us through the storms

God is with us through the storms

Where I live, it has been raining and raining and raining. Our rainfall totals from Thursday to yesterday (Saturday) were nearly 5 inches, and towns not far from us had over 8 inches of rain in the same span. This is on top of previous weeks’ rainfall amounts that were already double the average normally received for the whole month of June. 

We appreciate rain. But we get nervous when the rains keep coming, fearing flooding that may follow. And storms scare us. Violent winds and other weather phenomena can cause all sorts of damage. We’d like our weather always to be pleasant—sunshine when we want sunshine, gentle rain when we need rain. We’d like our lives to be like that—generally pleasant overall, no major disturbances or disruptions.

We even can get confused and think when life is smooth and easy, it proves God is with us. We think if we are doing the right things, God will reward us and make material blessings flow in our direction. There’s a name for that kind of thinking. It’s called having a theology of glory. The idea is that if we are right with God, then our lives will display wonderful, visible success.

Try applying that sort of theology to a man like Job. This Sunday’s scriptures included a reading from the end of the story of Job. Job was a man who had vast wealth and a large family. In his day—perhaps as early or earlier than the time of Abraham—Job was said to be “the greatest of all the people of the east” (Job 1:3). Not only that, Job was a man of faith, attested by the LORD himself to be “blameless and upright” and God-fearing to a degree greater than any other person on earth (Job 1:1,8). Then God let the devil have his way with Job. Job’s possessions were decimated. His seven sons and three daughters all were killed. His own health was exchanged for lingering, painful illness. All that turmoil is told in just the first two chapters of Job’s book. Then for 35 chapters, we listen to Job and his friends meditate on the misery. His friends first said nothing. For seven days they sat and stared at the ground. Finally, Job spoke out in complaint. He cried out in pain. His friends then offered some advice, much of which added insult to injury. Most of what they said was theology of glory in reverse. Essentially, they said, “Job, to be suffering like you are, you must be guilty of some heinous crime or dreadful offense against God.” But that wasn’t true. There was no one more devoted to God than Job was. As patriarch of his family, he regularly offered sacrifices on behalf of his children. He honored God and shunned evil. Yet the very God whom he so revered allowed him to be engulfed by tragedy. Where was the glory in that? Where was there any hint of reward for good behavior? God took the finest example of a believing person that could be found, and let him become an example of pain and horror and loss.

And Satan was involved too. That dragon was eager to sink his claws into Job. Always looking for souls to devour (1 Peter 5:8), the devil goes after every child of God, the weak and the strong, intent on destroying the faith of any that he can. And God suffers all of his believers to endure such temptations. The LORD does not want us to become secure in ourselves, thinking we’re immune to sin’s dangers or safe from sin’s fallout—the tumult and storms that characterize life in this world. The LORD wants each of us ever more deeply, ever more personally, ever more intimately to grasp onto him in faith, trusting him as our Rescuer.

What God showed in the life of Job, he is equally ready to demonstrate in his dealings with you. He says to you what he said to his people of old: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you” (Isaiah 43:1-2).

Notice what the LORD is saying. He does not promise that you will avoid all hurt and trouble. He does not say you will escape the floodwaters or that you won’t face danger or fire. Sometimes, in fact—as the Lord did in the case of Job—he will push you into the fire or plunge you deep underwater, letting this world’s troubles have their way with you. But God never abandons you. He always hangs onto you. He says, “Do not fear, for I am with you” (Isaiah 43:5). Being in precarious situations reminds you how much you need God’s strength, so that you wrap your arms of faith around him as tight as a child would cling to their parent during a thunderstorm. It’s like the apostle Paul (another great man of God) said about the life he and his ministry colleagues lived. They were servants of God, deeply devoted to doing God’s work, yet they endured “afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger.” Through it all, they kept demonstrating “purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God” (2 Corinthians 6:4-7).  Paul told those who were led to Christ that It is through many hardships, “many persecutions that we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). If the apostle Paul endured such hardships, if a righteous man such as Job endured such hardships, you and I also can expect to endure hardships as we walk in faith in this world. 

The experience of Jesus’ disciples illustrates the same truth for us. They had Jesus right there with them in their boat as they crossed Lake Kinneret (commonly called the Sea of Galilee). But that didn’t mean they were immune to the meteorological events of that region. Violent storms can happen there, especially when the winds whip down from the high hills on the eastern shore. Most recently, such a storm in 2022 saw sustained winds of 50 mph with gusts up to 87 mph, causing around $50 million in damage to property and infrastructure in the city of Tiberias and other areas along sea’s shore. (Cf. Israel Today, May 17, 2022). When a great windstorm like that arose for the disciples of Jesus centuries ago, they panicked. They couldn’t believe Jesus was sleeping through it, lounging on a cushion in the back of the boat. They woke him up, yelling, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re about to drown” (Mark 4:38 CEV)?

As disciples of Jesus, we are a lot like those first disciples. We like to think life with Jesus should be a peaceful, pleasant ride. We don’t want anything to rock the boat or cause problems for us. We have that theology of glory mindset in us. We think if Jesus is with us, then everything in our lives should be good and glorious and successful. We are dismayed when storms arise. We feel God has fallen asleep and doesn’t care about us. We start screaming at God (like Job screamed at God), “Where are you now? Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this?” [As if our efforts are merit badges with God, and he owes us rewards for good behavior.]  Then, through the storm, out of the whirlwind, we can hear what God would say to us (as he said to Job): “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge” (Job 38:2)? We question why God has let things get out of control when, of course, God always has all things under his control. He is the one who “laid the foundation of the earth” (Job 38:4). He is the one who says to the lakes and seas and oceans, “Here is where your proud waves shall be stopped’ (Job 38:11). 

When the whirlwind hit the boats out on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus calmly got up, “rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm” (Mark 4:39). And Jesus said to his terrified disciples, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith” (Mark 4:40)?  By this time in their journey with Jesus, the disciples had already seen him turn water into wine, cause their fishing nets to burst with an incredible number of fish, cast a demon out of a man, heal person after person of diseases and ailments. They had even seen him raise a young man, a widow’s only son, back to life after he had died. Still, Jesus had to remind them that he is indeed the Lord of all, “that even the wind and the sea obey him” (Mark 4:41). “O ye of little faith!” Jesus could say to all of us (Matthew 8:26 KJV). We all struggle to maintain trust and hope when storms come, when the circumstances of our lives suddenly are not pleasant and peaceful, or when our journey is one of chronic pain and hurt. We wonder where God is when life is a struggle.

Remember, though, that Jesus told us, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33 NIV). Satan will tempt you. Troubles will taunt you. But “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Through it all, come what may, look ahead to the final way out that God promises. We share the same hope Job expressed, saying: “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth, and … then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side” (Job 19:25-27). With God on our side, no matter how scary the storms, we always have hope.

There came a time in Jesus’ ministry when many of those following him turned back and no longer went along with him (John 6:66). They had been in it for the good things, for miracles that filled baskets upon baskets with bread and fish. They looked for Jesus to make their lives content and comfortable. When Jesus told them that wasn’t what life with him was about, they walked away. Jesus then asked his core group, the twelve whom he was training to be his apostles, “‘Do you also wish to go away?’ Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God’” (John 6:67-69).  Let that be our attitude also. Life isn’t all sunshine and clear skies. Storms will come. Unrest will upend our lives often. But we have a source of refuge. We have a place of safety. We have Jesus, the Holy One of God, who promises to be with us—”always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).  We will hang on, we will keep going, we will get to the other side, trusting in him. 


Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow

Patience

A meditation focused on Psalm 129

PATIENCE

See Psalm 129 in The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language by Eugene Peterson

 

Have you heard the apocryphal story about the woman who asked her pastor to pray for patience for her? Let’s hope it’s not a true story, because it would be terrible ministry practice. (Cf. article by Tim Harvey in The Messenger, 11/13/2019.)

The story goes like this:

A woman came to see her pastor. She said, “I am struggling with losing my patience. I get so frustrated dealing with my kids. At work, the policies and procedures and red tape infuriate me. When standing in line at the grocery store, I get agitated and just want to scream. Pastor, would you pray for me, that I can learn to be more patient?”

“Sure,” her pastor replied, and began to pray: “Lord, give this woman trouble and pain. Bring about times of distress and difficulty. Cause her to suffer …”

“Wait, wait, wait!” The woman interrupted. “Please stop! I didn’t ask for you to pray for me to have pain and suffering. I asked you to pray for patience for me.”

The pastor took a Bible off the desk (King James Version, of course), opened to Romans chapter 5, and read: “We glory in tribulations … knowing that tribulation worketh patience” (Romans 5:3 KJV).  If you want patience, what you need is more suffering.

I hope no pastor would take such an insensitive approach. There is, though, a grain of truth to consider.  Scripture does say we welcome sufferings when they come, “knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Romans 5:3-4). God doesn’t take pleasure in seeing us suffer; he loves us and strengthens us with his Spirit (Romans 5:5). When powers and people in this life kick us around and knock us to the ground, we hang on to hope in God’s promises. We trust he is working to deepen our relationship with him, build our resilience over struggles, and prepare us for an eternal reward as people called to be his own.

Our natural tendencies do not tend toward patience.  As Pastor Eugene Peterson put it in his book, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, we are people who are constantly “whining and chattering … and running and fidgeting,” which causes us to miss listening to the slow, calm, merciful words and ways of God (p. 114). “The way of the world is peppered with brief enthusiasms” (p.123), of chasing after one thing and then another, because this world is a temporal, temporary, wibbly-wobbly sort of place. That which is enduring and permanent–that which is everlasting–can only be found in relationship with God. But that’s not what counts to us when we’re always tracking daily stock prices and quarterly business reports and scrolling what’s trending on social media and what’s streaming on our TVs or tablets or all the other devices we’ve accumulated to occupy our time.

Our chronic impatience–our pursuit of “brief enthusiasms”–spills over into spiritual life too. For example, a number of years ago, I attended a concert in Houston. The headline act was Leon Patillo, who had been lead singer for Santana. He had found Jesus and turned to making Christian contemporary music. His vibe was bouncy and boisterous, like you’d have heard in dance clubs, except with lyrics full of “Praise God!” and “Hallelujah!”  Oodles of young kids had come to party to his synthesizer sounds, and they were bored with the opening act (the person I had actually come to see). His name was Michael Card. Those of you in my age bracket may recognize his name as the songwriter of “El Shaddai,” “Love Crucified Arose,” and other thoughtful songs focusing on the life of Christ revealed in the Gospels. Midway through his brief portion of the show, as the young people were impatient for the headline act to take the stage, Michael Card paused and spoke sincerely to the audience.  He said, “Christian life is not one big party; I want you to realize that.  We are not here only to jump and sing and dance, but to struggle in the name of Jesus as we proclaim him to the world.”  And then he read from Philippians chapter 3 (verses 10-11): “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

Michael Card had it right.  Jesus does not promise us constant fun or problem-free living on this earth.  He does promise inner joy that transcends outward circumstances, life forever to those who endure and overcome.

Psalm 129 has a message of a similar mood. Worshipers on their way up to Jerusalem would sing this song, remembering their history as a people, trusting God’s enduring faithfulness to them, and praying that the enemies of God’s people would be thwarted.

Think of the patience needed to be an Old Testament believer in the promises of God.

  • Abraham was promised by God that he would be the father of a great nation, bringing about blessings through him and his descendants (Genesis 12:1). He was 75 years old at the time (Genesis 12:4). The promise was laughable. Then, Abraham was made to wait 25 years before the miraculous promise was fulfilled and the son Isaac was born, when he was 100 years old and his wife Sarah was 90 (cf. Genesis 17:17, 21:5-7).
  • Jacob was promised that the land inhabited by Abraham, his grandfather, and Isaac, his father, would become the homeland of that nation of their descendants (Genesis 35:11-12). Then, in his old age, Jacob and his whole extended family needed to emigrate to Egypt to survive a time of famine (cf. Genesis 42-47). Not until a couple hundred years later did the Israelites, as a people, exit Egypt and go back to the promised land.
  • The history of Israel from that point forward wasn’t easy either. In the days of the Judges, the people faltered in their faithfulness and experienced a series of attacks against them by surrounding peoples such as the Moabites, Midianites, Canaanites, Ammonites, and Philistines. During the time of the Kings, forces that opposed God’s plans for his people continued to afflict them from both inside and outside their nation. Eventually, the northern tribes of Israel fell under the domination of the empire of Assyria, and then the southern tribes (the nation of Judah) fell to the empire of Babylon. Some think that Psalm 129 may have been composed during the time of exile in Babylon or after Jewish exiles returned from there decades later.

With that history of Israel’s struggles in mind, the psalm writer reminisces: “They’ve kicked me around ever since I was young”–so says Israel–”but they never could keep me down” (Psalm 129:1,2 MSG).  In poetic imagery, the psalm sees the history of Israel as if others were driving plows up and down their back, ripping deep into their flesh. Yet they were not destroyed. They were not defeated. God kept coming to Israel’s aid, “ripping the harnesses of the evil plowmen (Israel’s enemies) to shreds” (Psalm 129:4 MSG), rescuing his people.

When I read Psalm 129’s description of how the enemies of Israel were gouging and ripping up the back of the people of Israel, I can’t help but think of another image of suffering.  Jesus Christ went through an ordeal of suffering. We call it “The Passion of the Christ” because suffering is the original meaning of the Latin term passio. When Jesus was brought before the Jewish authorities as an enemy of the people, those “who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, ‘Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?’” (Luke 22:63-65).  Jesus was then dragged before the Roman governor Pontius Pilate as an enemy of the empire. Though there was no basis to the charges against Jesus, Pilate had him flogged–at two points during the process, it seems (cf. John 19:1 and Matthew 27:26, Mark 15:15). The 2004 movie, The Passion of the Christ, dramatized how gruesome scourging by Roman soldiers could be. Mel Gibson’s original theatrical release of the film dwelt on that torture scene for ten minutes. Subsequent editions of the film cut five minutes of the goriest visuals, because viewers and critics had found it too horrible to watch. If the image of it is too horrible for us to endure, what of the horror endured by Jesus himself, actually experiencing such a thing? And then experiencing the horrors of crucifixion, slowly suffocating to death? And the horror of soul in bearing all the weight of humanity’s separation from God as an act of atonement for us, causing him to cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)?

We can have patience in our ordeals in life because we know we have a God who is on our side. He has suffered with us and for us.  “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

Now, there’s a part of Psalm 129 that we haven’t addressed yet, which we can’t ignore. The last verses of the psalm approach the throne of God with a prayer for punishment on all those who have hated and opposed Zion–God’s holy mountain, God’s people, his church.  “Oh, let all those who hate Zion grovel in humiliation; let them be like grass in shallow ground that withers before the harvest” (Psalm 129:5-6 MSG). Is that a righteous prayer? Are we allowed to pray for judgment against “the evil plowmen” who have “plowed long furrows up and down” our backs? Are we allowed to ask God to rip “the harnesses of the evil plowmen to shreds” (cf. Psalm 129:3,4 MSG)? When Christ was crucified, didn’t he say, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34)?

Yes, Christ urges us to show patience and forgiveness to all. At the same time, we also speak out against those who knowingly and persistently act against righteousness and justice and goodness.  Jesus himself forcefully upended the tables of the merchants and money changers doing business in the temple area, even making a whip to drive away all their merchandise–sheep and cattle they were selling for sacrifices (John 2:13-17).  God’s prophets again and again decried those who acted unjustly. The prophet Amos warned the proud and powerful in his day, saying, “I know how many are your transgressions, and how great are your sins—you who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe, and push aside the needy. … Hate evil and love good. … Is not the day of the Lord darkness, not light, and gloom with no brightness in it [to those who are wicked]?… Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:12,15,21,24).

We are called to a path of patience like God’s own patience, “not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).  But that doesn’t mean we wish people well in their path of sin or smile cheerfully when evil and hurtful things occur.  Christians can get confused about that sometimes. I know someone who worked in a domestic violence shelter in the Bible belt. Many of the women entering the shelter were deeply Christian in their convictions. As soon as their terror subsided and their wounds and bruises began to heal, they began feeling it was their duty to go back to their husbands and forgive them. The shelter team had trouble keeping these women safely in the program, because of their compelling urge to turn the other cheek and forgive quickly. The advice I offered? Remind the battered women of the example of Joseph in dealing with his brothers.  Joseph had been mistreated by his brothers and sold off into slavery by them. God kept Joseph safe and put him in a position where later his brothers came before him (not recognizing who he was, as he became a leader in Egypt and had the appearance of an Egyptian).  Joseph very much wanted to forgive and reconcile with his brothers, but didn’t rush into doing so. He put his brothers through a series of tests of character to see if they were still the same uncaring men who had sold him into slavery more than a decade earlier (cf. Genesis chapters 42-45). Once it was clear they were changed, repentant persons, he revealed himself, and a genuine reunion and reconciliation occurred.

Loving Zion–loving the kingdom of God and all that is good–means we will not smile and nod toward those who hate Zion or do evil.  We will, in all honesty, feel what the ancient psalm-singers felt when they sang: “Let all those who hate Zion grovel in humiliation.” We don’t say, “Congratulations on your wonderful crop! We bless you in God’s name!” (Psalm 129:8 MSG) to those who achieve their great harvest or success by abusing or exploiting or taking advantage of people to get it. We call evil evil, and we call good good.  We pray for the good of all, and we pray against that which is evil. And we wait patiently while enduring suffering and hurt in a world that is plagued by much that is evil, knowing we have a God who is good and who will rescue us from all that is painful in his appointed time.

The Passion of Christ has shown us how God achieves what is valuable for us. There was nothing quick or easy about the path set before Jesus. He trod that bloody, anguished path for us.  And he promises us that when our patience is tried and tested, he remains with us, building our endurance, giving us hope. As the Scriptures testify: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh” (2 Corinthians 4:8-11).  This is our calling in Christ.


Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are rom the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Posted by David Sellnow

Living in hope (though life is difficult)

We wait for the Lord — hopefully, patiently, responsibly

Message for 3rd Sunday of Advent
by David Sellnow

Readings for the day:  Zephaniah 3:14-20, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18


Stephanie grew up under the weight of demanding, overbearing parents. Their way was always the right way, and their children were going to toe the line and become obedient, upstanding, model citizens. Stephanie’s older sister fit the model perfectly. At the strict religious school their parents enrolled them in, Stephanie’s sister got all A’s and was considered the impeccable child. Stephanie lived in her sister’s shadow, got mostly C’s, and was seen as far less than ideal. Later in life, Stephanie gave up on church, because the sternness of the church in which she was raised made her feel that who she was and how she was always was wrong. Her parents were mortified when she stopped going to church, and they distanced themselves more and more from her. Stephanie lived her life, but she lived with a sense of shame, felt like an outcast from her family, and was haunted by a lingering sense of judgment looming over her.

Derrick had labored diligently year after year. He always had a job, sometimes a couple of jobs at a time. He would do whatever he could to keep shoes on his kids’ feet and food on the table. He didn’t give a lot of attention to his own needs, because he was too busy taking care of the needs of others. If he could do that, he was happy. Then one day, the manufacturing plant where Derrick worked shut down. He found himself out of work for the first time in his life. The town where he lived with his family was shrinking. Derrick was in his mid-50s. Finding a new job was no easy task. The bills began to pile up while Derrick kept applying for any and every position (but not getting hired). He told employers in the bigger city 40 miles away that he could commute. They looked at him skeptically when he got as far as getting an interview … and that’s as far as he ever got, it seemed. Derrick began to feel worthless to anyone and a failure to his family. When he started feeling fatigued and worn down physically, he figured it was all part of how generally low he was feeling. But the physical symptoms got worse and worse. He wouldn’t go to the doctor because he no longer had insurance. He eventually did go to the emergency room–when his wife, who had struggled by his side during the difficult months, found him collapsed on the floor and had to call an ambulance. Derrick’s life had gone from stability to disaster in a short span of time. He needed help. He needed health. He needed to find hope again somehow.

Those are just a couple of stories of shame, of judgment, of disability, of disaster. What is your story? What is your shame? What makes you feel weak and lame and hopeless and helpless? What are the judgments against you that make you feel like an outcast? What difficulties and disasters have you encountered? I’m not asking you to give those testimonials here in comments/replies to this blog post.  I anticipate, though, that each of you has had (or now has or will have) tales you could tell of troubles and worries and woes. What do you do in the midst of your hurts and hardships and upheavals? Where do you turn?

Listen to the voice of a prophet calling out to you, telling you where to turn. Inspired by the Lord, Zephaniah said: 

  • The Lord has taken away the judgments against you; he has turned away your enemies. … You shall fear disaster no more. … Do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst. … He will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love. “I will remove disaster from you, so that you will not bear reproach for it. I will deal with all your oppressors. … I will save the lame and gather the outcast,and I will change their shame into praise. … I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes,” says the Lord  (Zephaniah 3:14-20 selected verses).

You may be unfamiliar with the context of the times in which Zephaniah was writing. His ministry was, after all, over 26 centuries ago, around 630 BC (Christianity.com, Bible.org).   Zephaniah’s ministry likely was very early in the reign of King Josiah. Josiah came to the throne as just a boy, and later in his career sought to institute religious reforms in the nation of Judah, because the people had lost track of the law of God (cf. 2 Kings 22, 23). But those reform attempts hadn’t happened yet. Zephaniah was speaking to a nation that had been living under God’s blessing for several hundred years and was growing distant in their hearts from God. They were worshiping other things, following other priorities, with individuals seeking their own advantage and ignoring their neighbor’s needs. Sound familiar? Sound a little like our own lives in our own times? Back in those Old Testament times, Josiah’s reforms were short-lived. A couple decades after Zephaniah, the prophet Jeremiah would be speaking out again, even more dramatically. When Zephaniah called for repentance and a return to God, regular, everyday people in Judah lived under the sway of the powerful and immoral in their own nation—and they were caught up in plenty of apostasy themselves. One commentator described the cultural context as a time “of great darkness … of violence and pain,” adding: “God never brings destruction to a place or a people that haven’t already destroyed themselves” (April Motl on Crosswalk.com). As Zephaniah (and later Jeremiah) foretold, there next would come a time when the regular, everyday people of God would live under the sway of other powerful nations and people, their fates held in the hands of first the Bablylonians and then the Medes and the Persians. 

At the same time as Zephaniah prophesied impending judgment from God, however, he also gave the people a message of hope. When God judges or destroys, he does so “for the purpose of protecting or rebuilding” (April Motl on Crosswalk.com). The hope held out by Zephaniah would find some fulfillment when Judah was restored from captivity under Babylon and Persia. Hope would be fulfilled still more when the Messiah would come, when Jesus was born and brought new hope to this world. Hope will be fulfilled ultimately when Jesus comes again at the end of time, vindicating the faith of those who have continued to trust in him through all the pains and shames and sins and disasters of this life.

We are called to hope as the people in Zephaniah’s day were called to hope. That same call to hope was issued by the apostle Paul in New Testament times. When Paul wrote his letter of encouragement to the church in Philippi, he was being held imprisoned in Rome, and the Philippian church members were facing an array of troubles and persecutions.  They had judgments against them. They had enemies. They were reproached. People in their community opposed and oppressed them. But, at the beginning of his letter, Paul told them, “[God] has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well—since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have” (Philippians 1:29,30). Many of our churches and church members today are facing struggles and challenges of their own. You may be feeling insecurity about where things are at right now, and much uncertainty about where things are headed in the future.  But listen to the voice of Christ’s apostle calling out to you, telling you where to turn. Paul urges you, as he did the Philippians:  

  • Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:4-7). 

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But we do know what forever holds in store for us, through our hope in Christ.  And so as we wait for Christ—for Christmas in this season and for Christ’s return to us at the end of days—we strive to live with hope in our hearts. We encourage one another to be hopeful, even when the circumstances in which we find ourselves look bleak. We wait for the Lord hopefully, hanging onto his promises as the gospel truth.

And we wait patiently … or at least try to be patient. We are, by nature, impatient people. We tend to want what we want and we want it now. If the package we ordered doesn’t arrive in a couple of days, we get irritated. If the trip to the store takes up too much time with too long of lines, we get irritated. If something we want for ourselves, for our house, for our farm or business, or for our church is not available to us right now or is out of reach of our budget or unrealistic in our present situation, we get irritated. We are impatient.

Life as it is, in the here and now, often doesn’t align with our ambitions or with the comfort and stability we want. Life is often painful and hard. Things don’t go our way. Things get in our way. Sickness interrupts health. Lack of resources limits our options. Other people don’t think the way we think they should think, or do what we want them to do. We turn from hopeful and happy to being frustrated and ornery. We may take out our frustrations against others, even those closest to us. Within our families and within our churches, each of us starts seeking our own interests rather than maintaining concern for one another and for the well-being of all. So we become less ethical, more self-centered in our own attitudes and behaviors.

Our impatience and frustrations lead us to become ungrateful, uncooperative, unyielding–all of which, of course, are the opposite of God’s call to us.  We are called to “lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and … run with perseverance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1). Only by keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus as the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2) can we stay on a path of rejoicing always, displaying gentleness to everyone, not worrying about things but maintaining thankfulness. It feels so impossible for us to live in such an attitude, but we are assured: “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard [our] hearts and … minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). 

So we strive to live hopefully and to live patiently–hoping in Christ and his promises, patient with each other as we face life’s challenges, and leaning on each other as brothers and sisters. Living such a life together as God’s people calls us to live honestly, ethically, responsibly with one another.

Listen to the call of another of God’s prophets, John the Baptist. When the crowds asked John, “What then should we do?” (Luke 3:10) …

  • In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.”  [When] tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” [John] said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages” (Luke 3:11-14).

You get John’s point. Be ethical. Be responsible. Be thinking of others, not just of yourselves. “Do to others as you would have them do to you,” as Jesus said (Luke 6:31). Treat everyone with respect and consideration and caring as you interact with one another. That is our calling in our communities, with every neighbor in our world. That is equally and especially our calling also within our churches, as we plan and work and do ministry together. 

Many small and medium-size churches today are facing significant challenges as they seek to carry out ministry. A national survey of churches conducted just prior to COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020 found that “half of the country’s estimated 350,000 religious congregations had 65 or fewer people in attendance on any given weekend … a drop of more than half from a median attendance level of 137 people in 2000” (Religious News Service, October 14, 2021).  The pandemic has reduced worship attendance even further, standing now at about three-fourths of pre-pandemic levels as of August of this year (Baptist Standard, November 4, 2021). 

Maybe the way you’re feeling about your own life or your congregational life these days is something like the feelings of Stephanie or Derrick (whom I described at the start of this message). Feeling like you’re the outcast, the down-and-out little sister, not as good as big churches somewhere else that seem to be flourishing.  Feeling like you have labored and toiled and worked hard for many years, and now are up against challenges that have you searching desperately for resources and answers that are nowhere to be seen. Again, we don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We can’t cast our eyes into the near (or far) future here on earth and know exactly what plans the Lord is working out for us.  But we do have his promise “that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). And we do know what forever holds in store for us, through our hope in Christ.  And so as we wait for Christ—in this Christmas season and anticipating his return to us at the end of days—we will strive to live in dignity and love with one another. We will set our minds on thinking about things that are true and honorable and pure and pleasing (cf. Philippians 4:8), rejoicing in the Lord always (Philippians 4:4). And we will set our hands about whatever tasks we can take on–to advance our relationships with one another, our care for others in our communities, and our commitment to honoring Christ in everything we say and do.

Life on this earth is not easy. It was not easy in Zephaniah’s day, nor in the days of John the Baptist and the apostle Paul.  It’s never easy.  As Paul and his missionary companions said to the members of churches they had established, “We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22 NIV). But we have God’s promise that he doesn’t abandon us. So we will not abandon him in our hearts, but keep trusting and hoping and persevering. We will not abandon him in our actions, but keep loving and helping and befriending. This is the life to which we are called by the prophets and apostles. This is our calling in Christ. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).  Amen.


Scripture quotations, except where indicated otherwise are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotation marked (NIV) taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Posted by David Sellnow

No place to lay their heads

Grateful for our homes, we will help those who are homeless


If you close your ear to the cry of the poor, you will cry out and not be heard.
– Proverbs 21:13


I visited Portland, Oregon in mid-summer. The weather was pleasant while we were there, with daytime highs in the mid-70s, a bit below their normal average for the time of year. Prior to our visit, however, Portland had endured a record-setting heatwave with temperatures as high as 117 degrees, and thermometers climbed back into the 90s and above 100 degrees soon after our trip. During the heat of late June, the Oregon Medical Examiner’s office
reported 96 deaths statewide from hyperthermia, 60 of those in Portland. Many of the deaths were older persons living alone with no air conditioning. Additionally, county leaders in the Portland metropolitan area and elsewhere in Oregon confirmed that a significant number of persons who died due to the excessive heat were homeless or inadequately housed.  Portland is one of many American cities with high rates of homelessness.  Globally, the United Nations estimates that “1.6 billion people worldwide live in inadequate housing conditions, with about 15 million forcefully evicted each year.”

I realize how fortunate I am to have a home. I may wish I had more equity in the house that I am slowly purchasing. I wish I could afford improvements and additions to the property which are beyond my means or would press my budget. But those are problems of privilege, not the crisis-level concerns of those at risk of losing their housing.  In the United States today, an estimated 2.6 million tenants are facing eviction if they don’t receive aid. Due to the pandemic, the federal government authorized a $46.5 billion eviction prevention program, but to date (eight months after Congress approved the funds), less than 17% of the rental aid has been distributed. Congress also authorized $10 billion to help the more than 2 million homeowners who have fallen behind on their mortgages, but that program also has been agonizingly slow in responding to the needs that exist. In August, the federal moratorium against evictions was ended by the Supreme Court, which means the risk of more people losing their housing has increased. A state order against evictions ends today in California, which already has more homeless persons than any other state, including nearly half of the nation’s unsheltered homeless (living in tent encampments, in cars, in abandoned buildings, on the sidewalk, etc).

We may contemplate renovating our homes, upgrading to bigger or better homes, purchasing a vacation home in addition to our homestead property. Having a sizeable amount of earthly possessions is not inherently wrong; we remember that God blessed faithful forefathers such as Job and Abraham with great wealth (cf. Job 1:3, Genesis 12:1-2). However, we do well to heed also the prophet Isaiah’s warning to God’s people, that “God expected justice” but instead heard cries of injustice (Isaiah 5:7), admonishing those “who join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you” (Isaiah 5:8). We recall also Jesus’ parable of the rich man who planned to build bigger barns to store all his excess goods. God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” (Luke 12:20). Jesus reminds us, “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15). 

Our days on this planet are not permanent. We are called to see ourselves as “strangers and foreigners on the earth” who are “seeking a homeland … a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:13-16). We are also called to live in community with one another as we sojourn here. In the eyes of God, an acceptable “fast” (reducing our own consumption) is “to loose the bonds of injustice … to let the oppressed go free … to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin” (Isaiah 58:6,7).

When Jesus came down and “pitched his tent among us” (John 1:14, literal translation), living our experience on this earth, he said to those who would follow him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58).  Surely, our Savior has empathy toward those who have no home. Christ seeks to provide us all a home in his heavenly mansions. In the meantime, until we reach that heavenly home, let’s strive to help one another and all of our neighbors have a safe place to be in this world.

*****************

I’ll link here several highly-rated charitable organizations aiming to reduce homelessness. There are many more you likely can find in your own area.

Transition Projects

  • Over 50 years of helping deliver life-saving and life-changing assistance to some of Portland’s most vulnerable residents
  • 100 out of 100 rating on Charity Navigator

Minnesota Assistance Council for Veterans (MACV)

The People Concern

  • Los Angeles area organization seeking to empower homeless persons to be housed, healthy and safe and to become active participants in the community
  • 100 out of 100 rating on Charity Navigator

HomeAid America

New Story

National Alliance to End Homelessness


Religious statement:  “Homelessness: A Renewal of Commitment” (ELCA, 1990)


Scripture quotations, except where indicated otherwise, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow

A suffering woman and a dead girl

Jesus is our Hope when Problems are Unsolvable 

[Readings for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost: Lamentations 3:22-33, Psalm 30, 2 Corinthians 8:7-15Mark 5:21-43]

Chances are, a number of you currently are experiencing or recently have experienced a loss, a hardship, some source of pain in your life. Just in terms of those who’ve lost a loved one, statistics say there are people reading this blog post dealing with that form of grief. “About 2½ million people die in the United States annually, each leaving an average of five grieving people behind” (The Recovery Village: Grief by the Numbers). In 2020, that number of deaths in the US was estimated at over 3½ million by the CDC’s National Vital Statistics System–the death toll expanded greatly due to COVID. An Associated Press poll conducted in March of this year found that 20% of people in the United States had lost a friend or close relative to COVID. “That means a potential bereaved population of about 65 million.” A psychiatrist at Columbia University warns that because of isolation due to the pandemic, a significant percentage of the bereaved could experience prolonged grief disorder, a condition of persistent grief that lasts longer and aches more deeply than the typical grieving process. Some studies have shown more than triple the typical rate of prolonged grief disorder have been occurring over this past year. (See “COVID Has Put the World at Risk of Prolonged Grief Disorder,” by Katherine Harmon Courage, May 19, 2021, in Scientific American.)

Those are some general truths, some national and international statistics. More than likely, some of you reading this are grieving over a loss, some are struggling with persistent pain, all know community members whose lives are hurting.

“Encounter” by Daniel Cariola, Magdala Chapel – https://www.magdala.org/

The Gospel account for this Sunday (Mark 5:21-43), from the days of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, shows powerful examples of persons dealing with grief and trauma … and their dependence on Jesus as their only hope. First there is the case of Jairus’ daughter, a young girl who should not become deathly ill, but who was deathly ill. Then, even as Jesus was on his way to Jairus’ home, the girl died. That did not stop Jesus from his desire or ability to help. We’ll say more about that momentarily.  Meanwhile, Jesus was the only answer for a woman whose problem just would not go away, and she was at the end of her rope. She had been suffering for twelve years with “an issue of blood,” as the King James Version put it. Our translation says “hemorrhaging.” Modern scholars, assessing what may have afflicted her, deduce it was menorrhagia — “abnormally heavy and long menstruation that causes enough cramping and blood loss … that it makes normal daily activities impossible” (Nigerian Biomedical Science Journal, August 29, 2017). We feel anguish for that woman, experiencing such a condition for twelve years. Now think also of the social stigma that it placed on her in her culture. Jewish cultural norms, following the laws of Moses, stipulated that anyone with a bodily discharge (bleeding or secretion) was considered “unclean” and was to stay socially distanced till after the bleeding or discharge stopped. It was a religious rule but also something of a public health rule for the Jewish people back before anyone knew much about bloodborne pathogens protocols. So, on top of a chronic, frightening health problem, this poor woman was supposed to remain in something like COVID-19 lockdown when the community around her was not in lockdown. Think of the isolation and abandonment and frustration she must have felt. She seems to have been a woman of some means, and had spent every penny she had going to various doctors, trying to find a cure for her problem. But none of them could help her. Her condition only got worse. Coming to see Jesus was an act of desperation, her last hope. She’d heard about Jesus. She’d heard he could do miracles. So she violated the social distancing policies that prohibited her from going out into a crowded space. She made her way through the throngs of people following Jesus, hoping just to get close enough, thinking, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well” (Mark 5:28).

Indeed, the woman was made well from the moment she came in contact with Jesus. But Jesus did not want her to remain in hiding (or to hide from him).  He stopped the crowd. He took note of the woman, who was afraid and confessed what she had done–which actually was a confession of faith. Jesus commended her and promised his ongoing presence with her. “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease,” Jesus said (Mark 5:34).  Think a bit about the context too.  Jesus was on his way to the home of a high-ranking person, Jairus, who was a leader of the local synagogue.  And Jairus had a significant need for Jesus’ attention; his daughter was deathly ill.  But Jesus paused to pay attention to the woman who just wanted a quick, incognito encounter and nothing more. She was like a person who comes to a church hoping against hope for something, sitting in the back row, not wanting to be noticed, but the Lord wants her to be noticed and wants people to care about her.  No matter how insignificant we feel we are, no matter how ostracized or shoved aside by society, no matter how helpless we think our situation is, Jesus wants us to know we are  welcome in his presence, that we are worthy of care and attention.

Gabriel von Max, “The Raising of Jairus Daughter” (1878) – Wikimedia Commons

And Jesus will care about us even when our situation is more dire than twelve years of incessant bleeding. For example, when a twelve-year old girl is dying–and even when she dies–Jesus does not turn away from helping.  To everybody else in the situation with Jairus’ daughter, her death was the end of the story. People came from the family’s house to say Jesus need not be bothered anymore, because the girl was dead. When Jesus came to the house anyway and told the mourners the girl was only sleeping and he would wake her, they all laughed at him. But we see the ultimate power of Jesus and the reason he had come to be with us on this earth. Death is the ultimate problem that plagues us as human beings. The sicknesses we have point to our mortality, to the eventuality that we all die. The death of a child points out the cold reality of death in a particularly harsh way. But the shocking finality of death is the very reason Jesus became incarnate as a human being, to reverse that curse. As Scripture says, Jesus came down to our level “so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.” Since we are beings of flesh and blood, he “shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Hebrews 2:9,14,15). Jesus’ actions healing the suffering woman and raising the dead girl are evidence of the healing and salvation he came to bring to all of us. 

Maybe the problems you experience in your life aren’t exactly like the cases we looked at today, a woman hemorrhaging blood for twelve years, a family mourning the death of a child. Their experiences are examples within the range of so much human suffering that occurs.  So many people experience deep hurts of so many kinds. In my years in the church, I’ve known …

  • dear souls who bore the scars of childhood sexual abuse for years and years in their adult lives …
  • dear souls who struggled with addiction …
  • dear souls who lost their jobs and struggled to maintain self-respect …
  • dear souls who experienced excruciating pain from terminal diseases …
  • dear souls who lost loved ones in senseless ways — in a car accident that occured on the way home from attending a funeral, or in a plane crash that occurred while attempting a stunt for a military air show.

In the work I’m doing now in human services, I encounter persons …

  • who need skilled nursing care and hospice care …
  • who need mental health hospitalization …
  • who have all manner of disabilities and need ongoing care and supports …
  • who are challenged by poverty and have little or no resources ….

So, while I don’t know exactly what you’re going through in your lives right now, chances are, there are losses, hardships, and no shortage of sources of pain. Maybe you feel like your soul has been bleeding for years and you don’t know how to make it stop. Where do you turn when the hurt in your life is constant, when the aches of your heart never really go away? Maybe you’ve tried everything–self-help books, practicing self-care, seeking professional help, any kind of help from anywhere and everywhere. And some things help some, but nothing is a complete cure.  Only the hope we have for resurrection in Jesus can keep us going through the pains and losses and devastations that are so much a part of life on this earth. Jesus is our hope when our problems are otherwise unsolvable.  Like the woman pressing through the crowd for even just a touch of the hem of his garment, we reach out to Jesus as our only eternal source of hope.

And how does that work–to reach out to be touched by Jesus when Jesus isn’t physically walking through the streets of your town?  Certainly one way is in coming to church, where you gather to hear Jesus’ words and receive his touch through the sacraments. There’s another way, too, that I’d like to say a little something about before concluding this message. I’d like you to think about today’s Epistle lesson also (2 Corinthians 8:7-15), which maybe seemed to go in a different direction than the other readings of the day.  Paul wrote to the Christians at Corinth: “As you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in your love for us—so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking” (2 Corinthians 8:7). The generous undertaking going on at that time was a special gathering of financial support for Christians elsewhere, particularly in the regions of Judea and Syria, who were experiencing food shortages and famine conditions.  Actually, the original statement in Paul’s letter simply says, “We want you to excel also in this grace” — the Greek word charis (from which we get our English word “charity”).  It’s somewhat limiting that in English we use the word “charity” (charis) mostly in terms of financial gifts.  Scripture uses the same word not just for gifts of financial support but for the ultimate grace, God’s gift of his Son Jesus, the One and Only, to be our rescuer.  Jesus now calls us to be gifts of grace to each other–with financial contributions, yes, but more than financial contributions. We become embodiments of Jesus to one another in our times of need.

At a church I was associated with in Texas some years ago, the congregation was in a bit of a financial crisis. A series of cottage meetings were planned, gathering members together in small groups at host members’ homes, to talk about how to address the financial crisis. At the first of those meetings, before getting to the stewardship agenda for the evening, there was an icebreaker activity planned, just to get people talking. Each person could respond to a prompt on the icebreaker card, which had prompts such as, “The most embarrassing moment in my life was ___________” … “One of my favorite vacations was _____” … “Something I’m praying about right now is ______,” and others. The first person at that first meeting started the conversation circle, choosing, “Something I’m praying about right now” and saying, “I’m praying for my daughter, who was just diagnosed with cancer.” There followed many minutes of fellow members showing concern for the woman, for her daughter, for her daughter’s husband and children, and actually engaging in prayer right there as a prayer circle.  The next person in the circle then also chose to share something heavy on her heart, something she was praying about, and the members listened to her hurt and ministered to her as well. For over two hours that evening, the members shared their needs, consoled one another, prayed for one another. They never did get to the planned agenda about the church’s financial situation, and that was okay. They did what was important. The other cottage meetings that occurred in the days and weeks after that first one all followed the same pattern. The gathered members all focused on the prompt about what was heavy on their hearts, what they were praying about, and they acted as missionaries of gospel to one another, encouraging each other.  Oh, and by the way, the church’s financial situation turned around too–because for the first time in a long time the members of the congregation began to realize the value of their ministry to one another and to others and, like Paul said, they began to excel also in that grace and in the generous undertaking of gifts to support needed ministry.  

In the midst of famine and hunger, in the midst of grief and abandonment, in the midst of sickness and death, in the midst of all this world’s problems and pains, Jesus is our hope. And as brothers and sisters to one another in Jesus, we become miracles of grace and hope to one another as well.

Brothers and sisters, may Christ be with you as you endure whatever hurts or sorrows are happening in your life today and whatever troubles you may face in days to come. And may you be with one another in Christ, supporting each other, praying for one another, reminding each other of the gospel hope we share. We know our Redeemer lives, and that he will be with us when we are on our deathbeds, and that at the end, he will stand upon our graves, and that even after our skin has been destroyed, we will yet see God, we will be raised by Christ to be with Christ forever. How our hearts yearn within us!  (Cf. Job 19:25-27.)  Amen.

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow

When heaven seems silent

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on March 28, 2015.

We’re heading into Holy Week – an annual remembrance of Jesus’ darkest hours.  At week’s beginning, he was hailed with cheers and acclaim by the people of Jerusalem.  By week’s end they looked upon him with revulsion and demanded his death.  During his unthinkable suffering, his thoughts were on us, the people for whom he was living his life, for whom he was dying in ignominy at our hands.  In any suffering we face now, we look to our Lord as the one who has suffered for us, who has redeemed us, who gives us hope.  

Writing to someone she knows is suffering, Jenni Mickelson points to Jesus and the hope we have in him — even when circumstances seem hopeless.  We know that not only did he suffer for us; he reclaimed his life in victory and assures us of victory.

A letter to someone who is suffering

by Jenni Mickelson

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For the one who wants to let go…but must hold on: “We walk by faith, not by sight.” 

(2 Corinthians 5:7)


“I believe in the sun even when it is not shining.
I believe in love even when I do not feel it.
I believe in God even when he is silent.”

–          Etched on cellar wall during the Holocaust

Dear one, I feel your pain behind the smile, the hopeful words and “musts” and “dos.” You are longing for a present much better than the one you are in. It’s as if you are in a thick mud at the side of a road, struggling in panic like an injured deer, back legs broken, to flee her fear and her pain. You speak of a new day, a new heaven and a new earth, and you pray and you read and you thank. But in the next breath you are crying for another time, another place, another life.

Let me tell you this: Your life has been a prelude to this moment. This moment, when the cross feels too unbearable to carry, the strain too great for your feeble arms, the fear and the agony too overwhelming to endure one more step on the narrow road. God has led you here, to this moment, to follow the blood-stained footsteps of Jesus.

Rejection, torture, anguish – these defined the hours, the days, the years of our Lord here on earth. True God and true Man – and this was his destiny: to be forsaken by his children, to be gruesomely flogged and crucified like a criminal, to hang in the sight of unbelieving onlookers and a Father who put his only Son through the pain of hell – for us.

“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?…
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 
(Matthew 27:46)

Sin did not waste its time in tormenting our Savior. But sin was not greater. Sin’s wrath did not define our dear Jesus. For, on that early Sunday morning, in the pale of a new dawn, he rose above the grave and received the glory of life. And it is this that he gives us, too, willingly.

When you fall under your cross, let the blood of our God renew you and give you strength. As you collapse under the load, let the power of Jesus’ love and mercy pick your feeble body back up. And when sin finally threatens to impale you with the nails of hell forever, point to the hill at the end of the road – the hill of victory, the hill of God’s Passion. You will live another day. This moment is God’s love letter to you: “Live. Do you see the light of my Son in you? ‘Your faith has made you well’” (Luke 17:19).

“I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord”  
(Psalm 27:13-14).

Posted by kyriesellnow

The One who suffered is with us in our sufferings

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on August 19, 2014.

I had a friend who was going through some challenges at a particular time.  I sent my friend this little note at that time …  and thought maybe it worth sharing more widely with others of you here.

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Faithful in Affliction

by David Sellnow

“I know, LORD, that your laws are righteous, and that in faithfulness you have afflicted me” (Psalm 119:75).

That word of prayer is hard for me to say, hard for you to say.  When we are afflicted, when things get hard, our first instinct is to say, “God, you’re not fair.  This is ridiculous!  How could you possibly ask me to put up with this?”

But we keep praying, we keep leaning on God.  Maybe people here on earth have treated us unfairly.  Maybe situations here on earth will twist and contort us way out of our comfort zone.  But the LORD our God is never unfair.  And he doesn’t let us go through any ordeals or “valleys of the shadow of death” without going through it all with us, right by our side.  Our good shepherd has his rod and staff in hand, to battle for us and pull us out of trouble, and we are comforted (cf. Psalm 23:4).

Lord, forgive us for thinking you are unfair in your dealings with us.  We know that even in our afflictions, you remain faithful and true to us always.  Your ways are righteous.  In faithfulness you allow us to suffer, but you walk with us through every detail of the suffering — and no one knows suffering better than you do, Lord Jesus.  You walked the road to your own execution, a cross crushing your shoulders, thorns piercing your skull, whip lashes oozing blood from your back.

You walked the path of affliction for us.  Now, when we are afflicted, walk with us.  We trust you.

 

Posted by kyriesellnow

A Cry from the Depth of One’s Heart

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on August 1, 2014.

During the summer of 2014, The Electric Gospel featured items written by participants in a summer writing workshop. In this post, Carl Heling shares with us a prayer from his heart, leaning on God in the midst of frustrations with life.  His lament echoes what psalmists have cried — and what our own hearts often feel.

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A Prayer, a Lament – From my Heart to God

by Carl Heling

O Lord, God, maker and preserver of all things, hear me as I come to you. Listen to my cry.  As I sit here pondering on my life, I realize time and again how wretched and lowly and poor a human being I am.  Surely, I do not deserve the gracious blessings you have given to me nor to be called your child, but you still do so continually.  Oh, how my heart can’t fathom your love!

As I lie here, I feel lost in a world of chaos and uncertainty.  Every day I labor and toil long hours to make a dollar, pay the bills, help the family, go to school, and give to church.  I do so with my best effort, knowing that it is my duty to do so as a citizen and member of the family and because that is what you desire from your children.  Yet I am unhappy, full of grief and pain.  I am disappointed and uncomfortable with myself and my doings.  Things never seem right or good enough.  I could have done this better.  I should have done that better.  O Lord, my heart is plagued and overrun with grief and pain on account of the sins and failures I commit every day of my life!

As I sit here, Lord, every day feels so futile.  I feel lost and powerless in this large world of chaos.  I don’t know how I am to best serve you with the unique talents and abilities that you have given to me. “Utterly meaningless!  Everything is meaningless (Ecclesiastes 1:1).  I am filled with urgent desire for knowing your Word, and yet despite that still find myself feeling as if everything I do is useless and fruitless.  And so I am filled with grief and sorrow.  Along with this, I feel sorrow on account of always feeling grief and sorrow!  I sorrow for the things I should or could have done better.  I grieve over all the sins and failures I have done in my everyday tasks.  And I sorrow and grieve about how much I sorrow and grieve.

Oh, how I long to be with you and with all the saints in heaven!  Heal this broken and plagued heart and mind of mine, Lord.  Invigorate my mind, body, and spirit with your strength and grace.  Forgive me of all my sins and failures and lead me to do better.  Ultimately, give me true, godly wisdom and understanding, as well as a steadfast and true heart set on your ways and your heart.

This is my cry, O Lord.  In your mercy in Jesus, hear me.

Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
    Lord, hear my voice.
  Let your ears be attentive
    to my cry for mercy.
If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
    Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
    so that we can, with reverence, serve you.
I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
    and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
    more than watchmen wait for the morning,
    more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
    for with the Lord is unfailing love
    and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
    from all their sins.

(Psalm 130)

Posted by kyriesellnow