There are no perfect families. Let’s just put that out there from the beginning. Sometimes in Christians circles, we make it seem as if a family of Christians should be blissfully loving and problem-free. I don’t know what happens in your family on a typical Sunday morning. Maybe there is usually a big fight in the car ride on the way there. You all have to calm down and get pleasant looks on your faces before you came into the building. Maybe some member of your family refuses to come to church, even though they know you want them there, even though you pray every Sunday will be different. Maybe you’ve broken contact with some member of your family, and part of you is angry and thinks, “This isn’t all my fault. They need to apologize.” But part of you is deeply sad, and almost willing to do whatever it takes to bring them back. Maybe some member of your family is suffering with a mental illness or an addiction that makes them a very different person than they used to be, and makes your home and your life chaotic. I’m not giving away any secrets here; in any large group of people, there are stories like that, and more. Maybe something else is going on in your family right now that keeps you awake at night, brings you to tears, or makes you furious. And Sunday mornings, you sit in a room full of attractive, well-dressed people, including some couples who seem very happy together, and some families with children who look well-adjusted and beautiful. And you’re tempted to think, “Everyone has it together but me. What’s wrong with me?”
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Note: Since the start of the year, we’ve been studying 1 Peter with the theme “Making Progress,” asking the question, “How can we become better people in a culture that does not encourage our faith?” This Sunday, we'll be looking at 1 Peter 4:12-19.
When my daughter Kayleigh was born, I made almost all of her doctor’s appointments. These were not fun events. Once, the doctor had to give her a round of shots. He told me to hold her still. Now, Kayleigh didn’t really like me much in those days. Unlike Carrie, I wasn’t soft and gentle, I clearly didn’t know what I was doing--which she could innately sense--and worst of all, I didn’t produce milk. But useless as I was, she somehow knew it was my job to protect her. So when I held her down with all my might while Dr. Voldemort attacked her over and over with a razor sharp needle, she screamed and cried and stared right into my eyes with a look that said, “Why are you doing this to me?”
When life gets hard, there are two ways religious people tend to react. We get angry with God, or we think God is angry with us. We get angry with God because we feel like He has broken some sort of agreement. We say things like, “Haven’t I done things the right way? I go to church, I’m kind to others, I try to follow your commands. Is this how you repay me?” Actually, people in Scripture such as Job and David reacted this way sometimes, so you’re not a horrible person if you feel this way, too. But Scripture also tells us, again and again, that pain and suffering are part of life on this earth. God’s best people suffered in terrible ways. That’s why Peter tells his readers not to be surprised at the troubles they are facing. We are not promised a pain-free existence, not yet. Those who think, “God must be angry with me,” are also incorrect. In Scripture, God did sometimes use circumstances to punish people. But every time He did, they knew why they were experiencing the pain. They could draw a clear line from their sin to the consequences. This is why in verse 15, Peter tells them to make sure that if they suffer, it’s not because of any crime they’ve committed. If we get drunk and get behind the wheel of a car, we shouldn’t be surprised that we crash; if we don’t deal with our foul temper, we shouldn’t blame God because our loved ones don’t want to be around us anymore. But if our pain seems random, it’s not the Judgment of God. If it were, He’d let us know it.
The truth is, most of the time, we won’t know exactly why God allows a particular painful event into our lives. Tim Keller pastors in Manhattan, and most of the people he meets have no Christian background. Sometimes, they will say, “I don’t believe in God because something awful happened to me, and if God was real and loved me, He would never let that happen.” Keller’s response is, “Is it possible that an all-knowing God has a reason for allowing this pain that you cannot comprehend?” They have to admit that it is possible. I think about that day in the doctor’s office. Could I have prevented Kayleigh’s pain? Absolutely, but I knew the pain was for her good. Could she understand that, no matter how I tried to explain it? Absolutely not. Sometimes, we just have to trust Him without knowing what He’s up to.