So?
So?
November 18, 2007
Text: 2 Corinthians 11:21-30
2 Cor 11:21-30
What anyone else dares
to boast about-I am speaking as a fool-I also dare to boast about. 22
Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they Abraham's
descendants? So am I. 23 Are they servants of Christ? (I am out of my
mind to talk like this.) I am more. I have worked much harder, been
in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed
to death again and again. 24 Five times I received from the Jews
the forty lashes minus one. 25 Three times I was beaten
with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent
a night and a day in the open sea, 26 I have been constantly on the
move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in
danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in
the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger
from false brothers. 27 I have labored and toiled and have often gone
without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without
food; I have been cold and naked. 28 Besides everything else, I face
daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. 29 Who is weak,
and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?
30 If I must boast, I
will boast of the things that show my weakness.
NIV
It had been a long day at
the office, with not enough time to do everything on the to do list.
That night hadn’t been much better. I was supposed to have been part
of three meetings—and I had to miss my son’s ballgame because of
those meetings.
On the morning after that
long day and longer night, I was in devotions. It was a quiet time of
prayer before working on a sermon.
And as I said my pity-party
prayer—as I complained about this and that, and how tired and discouraged
I was—I heard God speak. I heard God’s voice as clearly as you may
be hearing mine.
I want to tell you what
God said.
But first, I want you to
know that I know that you know, maybe better than me, what those long
days and nights are like.
You try to live a good life—you
wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.
You try to follow Christ
as best you can—you take the vows of faith, you share your time, talents,
gifts, and service.
And yet, no matter how good
you try to be, no matter how much faith you try to have: you still face
those days and nights that never end.
You don’t get rewarded
for being or doing good. You still lose your job. You or a loved one
still gets sick. You still get divorced. You still have spiritual or
emotional or mental or financial problems.
Yes, you know what those
long days and nights feel like.
And you could get right
down on your knees beside me, on that morning after the night before.
And you, too, could hear the Lord’s answer.
You could hear, after you’ve
laid out your heart to Him, you could hear Jesus say to you what he
said to me. He said to me—softly, tenderly, compassionately—he said…
“SO???”
That’s not exactly the
answer I was looking for.
I was expecting a response
from Jesus like a mom gives a toddler when the child skins a knee: “Oh,
you poor thing. Let me hug you. I’ll kiss your boo-boo. Feel better
now?”
THAT is what I wanted to
hear.
Instead, I get that frigid-water
word thrown in my face:
“SO???”
You talk about spiritual
“shock therapy,” that’s what I got.
And as I let the force of
Jesus’ one word reply sink in, I got a picture of him in my
mind’s eye. He’s looking at me with a puzzled expression, after
hearing my litany of complaint. He’s opening his palms to me—palms
with nail prints on them, by the way. And appearing like this, he’s
saying, “SO???”
As I picture Jesus like
this, another picture of another man takes his place.
It’s a man in a dirty
jail cell. He’s sitting at a table, scribbling on a piece of parchment
by candlelight.
What’s he writing?
A Mastercard commercial.
Imprisoned—Several
times
Flogged—5x
Beaten—3x
Stoned—1x
Shipwrecked—3x
Cold, hungry, thirsty,
near death—Constantly
Following Christ? Priceless.
Paul is saying, without
flinching or seeking pity, that his faith has caused him a lot of pain.
He actually seems to be wearing his suffering as a badge of honor.
This is so very foreign
to our mindset, isn’t it?
We want—even expect—our
faith to get us out of pain, not put us into it.
Maybe, just maybe, we have
it wrong.
I like what Pastor David
Fairchild says:
We should have instinctively
known life would be difficult. We were pulled out of a nice warm place,
buck naked, in front of strangers, and spanked until we cry. That theme
repeats itself for the next several decades.
Some of us have been
told a lie that sounds something like this: Pray this prayer and your
life will be wonderful. Your life will be filled with happiness and
joy. Your life will look like a Hallmark card set in a Thomas Kincaid
painting…
Some of you may have
also been told another lie — that Christ is a spiritual piñata and
if you whack him with the right prayer stick, he’ll be forced to give
you whatever you want. “Pray this prayer for 30 days and your borders
will be increased.” The only thing that is proven to grow my borders
after 30 days is eating McDonald’s. I have seen my borders grow before
my very eyes! Yet I don’t see a book titled
The Prayer of Ronald.
Only in an American culture
would we expect a life without suffering, and life without pain, a life
without difficulties ....
—David Fairchild, “Life
or death,” May 2, 2004, Kaleo Fellowship Web Site,
kaleochurch.com.
“Only in an American culture…”
You know, Paul would look
at us American Christians, and shake his head.
He knows we like to brag.
We like to put on resumes the things that make us look good. College
degrees. Experience. Putting such things on a resume makes people notice
US.
But Paul doesn’t care
about putting those things on his resume. He doesn’t even put down,
“Paid apportionments 100%.” He’s putting down “imprisoned, flogged,
beaten, stoned.”
He ends his Mastercard commercial
with these words:
If I must boast, I will
boast of the things that show my weakness.
Why? Because he knows that
when he is in those situations where he is weak and at the mercy of
others: IT IS PRECISELY IN THOSE SITUATIONS WHERE HE EXPERIENCES THE
TRUE PRESENCE AND POWER OF CHRIST.
Instead of cursing his fate
and lamenting, he is bragging about his fate, and expecting—expecting
Christ to come through.
Paul finds Christ
in Paul’s weakest moments.
The
“SO???” times reveal the vibrant
presence and power of Christ.
He doesn’t deliver us
from them. He delivers us in them.
Haven’t you really found
this to be true in your life?
When you faced situations
that were painful—without running away, without being sneaky, without
resorting to drugs—it was in those times your mind learned, your heart
expanded, your soul deepened. Christ made sure of it.
That’s true in my life.
I can pick any suffering
card from my past, and see Christ working, even though I wasn’t aware
of it at the time.
It says, “Your father’s
latter years.”
Yes, they were tough. He
was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at the age of 84. I cried and agonized
with him for six years. One night I knelt down, prayed, threw the Bible
onto the bed, and it just happened to fall open to Jeremiah 29:11, a
verse I had never read before that night—“For I know the plans I
have for you,” says the Lord, “to give you a future and a hope.”
And I knew right then that as darkness shrouded Dad’s mind and life,
Christ was walking beside us, flashlight in hand, to see us through.
The pain and tears lingered—but I would never have found a way through
them without facing the darkness with Dad, and calling out. Dad and
I were weak—but Christ was strong. Dad and I were in the dark—but
Christ IS light.
YOU pick a suffering card
from your past. Look at it closely—Christ’s face will appear, his
words will be heard.
If you say you believe in
Christ and seek and follow him with all your heart, tough times will
come. Maybe those times will even happen BECAUSE of your faith—you’ll
lose a relationship, lose a promotion.
But those times serve to
strip you of all pretense, all relying on yourself. Those times bring
you back to the simple power that’s at the core of faith:
HOPE.
Hope isn’t hope,
unless all you have to rely on is Christ. Christ isn’t your savior,
unless you allow yourself to be saved.
Like Paul, embrace your
weakness—boast of it.
And like Paul, you can…
Face your
“SO???” times with confidence and
courage.
Of course we don’t like
to suffer.
We like the “gain” without
the “pain.”
It’s popular to categorize
the “millennial” generation this way—the folks born between 1980-2000.
Parents have catered to them. After all, they’ve been raised in the
Nickelodeon, Baby Gap, Babies ‘r Us, Toys ‘r Us, Build-A-Bear Workshop
culture. [see www.generationsatwork.com] And so do you think that culture
will accept suffering as a required course in life? No way.
But we are not the millennial
generation—nor the baby-boomer generation—nor the greatest generation.
We—you and me—are
Christ’s generation.
Living with and for him,
we expect the cold-hungry-thirsty-near death times.
And even more than that—we
can face them with confidence and courage—because we
are NOT alone in those times.
The martyrs of the early
church—those who willingly gave up their lives because of their faith—that’s
how they approached their suffering.
Listen to Pastor Flora Wuellner’s
description of them:
They saw their life-end
ordeal as an exultant opportunity not only to witness to Christ, but
to pit the strength of Christ within them against the worst that could
be done to them. They experienced themselves as spiritual athletes,
entering contests. They described their deaths by wild animals as "Fighting
with beasts." They did not submit to anything. They leaped into
the arena.
I have no illusion that
I am like these martyrs. But they prove what Paul says: In the times
when we are the weakest, that’s when Christ is the strongest. We
can face the wild animals knowing that Christ
is beside us. They will bite, but he will heal.
As Paul said in another
place, “IF CHRIST IS FOR US, WHO CAN BE AGAINST US?”
Who is this man?
A tragedy happened to Hemingway
when he was still an unknown writer. He lost a suitcase that contained
all the manuscripts he’d been working on. Many of those writings he’d
carefully polished and perfected.
He was devastated, ready
to give up. Redo all that work? No way!
He lamented his loss to
the poet Ezra Pound.
Instead of consoling him,
Pound said, “Great! Now, when you re-write your stories, you’ll
forget the weak parts—only the best material will reappear.”
Hemingway did re-write his
stories—and became one of the greatest writers in our history.
Perhaps you are being called
to re-write your stories.
Pick up the pen.
Christ will tell you what
to write.
The words of God, through
a poet:
Oh, my child!
Do you not see?
It is in darkness you must
gain the eye for beauty.
How shall you know the delight
of goodness but as it shines against hardened hearts?
How feel the joy of light
except as it sparkles through the shadowed land?
It is here in this world
of fearful gloom that my creation will continue to burst forth from
the tomb.
And you, dear heart, let
it burst from your soul—[let it burst from your soul].
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