LEAVING ROOM FOR GOD TO WORK: PART III
My sister’s name is Lora and her husband’s name is Mike. They met in college and were married in September of 1982. They lived in a place called Manchester, Iowa for a time and then they moved to Phoenix, Arizona. Phoenix was a boom town in those days, so let’s just say they landed on their feet. They became what sociologists used to call YUPPIES – you know, Young Urban Professionals – and what other experts called DINKS. That stood for Double Income, No Kids. They were very happy with their situation and were quite content with their lifestyle.
After about ten years of marriage, however, they decided they wanted to have kids. They tried and tried and tried to have a baby, but my sister simply was not able to carry a child to term. Both of them went to the doctor for medical tests and it turned out my sister had some kind of chromosome deficiency. Shortly thereafter, my mother called to tell me what had happened. Now first, let me tell you something about my mother. My mother is the consummate pessimist. Her philosophy on life is somewhat akin to Murphy’s Law. She truly believes that if something can go wrong, it will. I blame my own brushes with insanity on her.
So my mother called to tell me that my sister had some kind of chromosome deficiency. Then she added, “They say it runs in families. You might have it too!” I said, “Mom! I have three kids! I don’t have a chromosome deficiency!” Is it any wonder I have temporary bouts with insanity myself?
After many years of trying to have a baby, my sister and her husband finally conceived. They
had a little boy and they named him Griffin. Griffin was a sweet little boy – albeit a tad bit small for his age. But as you might suspect, Mike and Lora loved him with all their hearts. He truly helped to make their family complete.
One Sunday morning, when Griffin was about two years old, Lora was out in the back yard pushing Griffin on a swing. He didn’t seem to be feeling well so she took him out of the swing and the two of them sat down on a blanket. Then Griffin threw up and lost consciousness. They knew something was terribly wrong so Mike and Lora began rushing him to the hospital. On the way, Lora cried out to her husband, “Mike! Griffin’s stopped breathing!”
They happened to be going past a fire station, so they quickly pulled up to the door. God bless those firemen. They called an ambulance and worked frantically to save that little boy’s life. But in the end, it was all for naught. Mike and Lora lost their little boy. To this day, no one really knows why.
Many people gathered around them to be with them in their grief. Now I know that people mean well, but they always seem to feel as if they have to say something…even if it’s the worst possible thing they could say. To Mike and Lora, people said things like, “You’re young. You can always have another child,” or, “God just needed him more than you did,” or, “You know, God never gives us any more than we can handle.”
God never gives us more than we can handle. What is the source of that saying, and is it true? The source of that saying seems to come from the Apostle Paul in the 13th verse of the 10th chapter of the first book of Corinthians. There Paul writes, “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with your testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.” Over time, Paul’s words have been abbreviated to, “God will never give you any more than you can handle.”
Like a lot of bumper-sticker theology, this promise appeals to our concerns about ourselves and our own well-being. But I really don’t think that’s what Paul is trying to say. What Paul is trying to say is closer to, “When a door closes, God always leaves a window open.” The point is that it’s not God giving us these things to handle. Instead, God is with us to help us get through them. Because the fact of the matter is, some of the things that happen to us are well beyond our capacity to endure.
Consider the story of Naomi we’ve been examining in the book of Ruth. During a time of famine in the land, Naomi and her husband, Elimelech – together with their sons Mahlon and Chilion – migrated to the land of Moab where it was reported there was food. Shortly thereafter, Elimelech died and Mahlon and Chilion took Moabite wives. Then Mahlon and Chilion died as well, leaving Naomi bereft of both her husband and her sons. How do you suppose Naomi would have reacted to someone saying to her, “God never gives you any more than you can handle?” I suspect she would not have taken it well.
Naomi was bitter. In fact, upon returning to her native Bethlehem with her daughter-in-law Ruth, Naomi told her friends to call her Mara. Mara meant “bitter.” Naomi wanted them to deem her bitter because she had gone away full and the Lord had brought her back empty. Her faith in God’s benevolence had been shattered. Her trust in the love of God had been crushed. Her hope for God’s mercy had been obliterated. Dire circumstances have a tendency to bring that out in us. When things don’t go our way we tend to blame God and raise questions about God’s character. In times like these, we can lose the most precious thing of all. In times like these, we can lose hope.
Hope is a choice. Hope is always a choice. Ideally, we choose to believe that life isn’t over in spite of how dire things might look at the time. After all, there are certain things that simply cannot be done until God shows up. Thus, perhaps the real definition of faith has to do with leaving room for God to work. Our hope in God might even provoke us to say, “I know things will be all right in the end. It doesn’t feel very good right now, so this must not be the end.”
That’s what Naomi found. Upon their arrival in Bethlehem – after Naomi had told her friends to call her bitter – Ruth and Naomi had to get on with the practical things of life. How were they going to eat, for example? Ruth volunteered to glean in the fields of some wealthy farmer. Now Naomi had a kinsman on Elimelech’s side, a wealthy landowner named Boaz. In chapter two of the book of Ruth it says, “As it happened, Ruth came to the field belonging to Boaz.” We noted that the Hebrew words for “As it happened” literally mean, “her chance chanced.” The author of the book of Ruth is saying to us, “And her chance chanced that she gleaned in the field belonging to Boaz.” It appears to have been nothing more than dumb luck…or was it?
Boaz treated Ruth quite well. She returned to Naomi at the end of the day with far more barley than one might expect. When Naomi found that Ruth had gleaned in the field of Boaz, her eyes were suddenly opened. She came to realize that the hand of God had not gone out against her. Instead, the hand of God had gone before her to prepare the way.
Hope is in the details. Naomi came to realize that God had been at work in her life all along. Everything matters. Everything that had happened was all a part of making God’s plan come to fruition. God’s hand does not go out against us. God’s hand goes before us to protect us. There is nothing in life that is beyond the province of God’s influence. Naomi just had to leave a little room for God to work.
I think the question now is this: Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God? Again, does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God? You see, Naomi had come to discover that God was, in fact, at work in her life. Thus, should she simply sit back, let God work his magic and reap the rewards of God’s omnipotent blessing? In other words, should she rest secure that God was ready to serve her? Or, getting an inkling as to what God’s plan really was, should she step out boldly in faith and do her part to help God’s plan take shape?
Naomi opted to spring into action. She gave explicit instruction to Ruth as to what she was to do. She knew that Boaz would be sleeping on the threshing floor that night. During the harvest season, men often slept on the threshing floor at night. They were there to prevent thieves from coming in and stealing the grain.
Ruth was told to clean up and to put on the very best clothes she had. Then she was to go down to the threshing floor and keep out of sight. After Boaz had finished eating and drinking, Ruth was to uncover his feet and lie down there. And that’s exactly what she did. Verse seven says that after Boaz had eaten and drunk, “and he was in a contented mood,” she did as Naomi instructed. She uncovered his feet and laid down.
Long about midnight, Boaz woke up with a start. He sensed that someone was lying at his feet. He whispered, “Who are you?” Ruth told him who it was, then she said, “Spread your cloak over your servant for you are next of kin.” This was Ruth’s not-so-subtle way of saying, “Will you marry me?” But there was a little more to it than that. You see, Boaz was under no obligation in ancient Hebrew law to marry or take care of Ruth. But you could say he might have had an obligation to take care of Naomi if she’d been a bit younger. The next of kin was to father a child with a kinsman’s widow that his name might be carried on. Are you with me? Ruth is essentially saying that she wants Boaz to marry her, and to take care of Naomi as well.
Naomi sensed God’s plan and she took a leap of faith. In fact, her bold risk will change the history of Israel as Ruth turns out to be the great-grandmother of King David and a part of the family tree of Jesus Christ himself. They followed what they believed to be a word from God. In their minds, God was the matchmaker here.
Why doesn’t God lay out his plan more clearly? I think it’s because God never seems to solve a problem that we can solve ourselves. Sometimes God simply wants us to take a leap of faith ourselves. I think William Sloane Coffin describes this leap of faith very well in his book, Credo. He writes:
It is terribly important to realize that the leap of faith is not so much a leap of thought as of action. For while in many matters it is first we must see, then we will act, in matters of faith it is first we must do, then we will know; first we will be and then we will see. One must, in short, dare to act wholeheartedly without absolute certainty…I love the recklessness of faith. First you leap, and then you grow wings.
Perhaps the following story can show you what that means. One night, a house caught on fire and a little boy was forced to climb out a window and on to the roof. His father stood on the ground with outstretched arms and cried out to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you!” The father knew the boy had to jump to save his life, yet all the boy could see was smoke and fire and blackness. As you can well imagine, the little boy was afraid to jump. His father kept yelling, “Jump! I’ll catch you!” The boy protested, “But Daddy, I can’t see you!” Finally his father replied, “I can see you, and that’s all that matters!”
How’s that for a literal leap of faith? The question was, “Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?” Ladies and gentlemen, we exist to serve God. We do not sit idly by, let God work his magic, and reap the rewards of God’s omnipotent blessing. Like Naomi, we leave room for God to work, and then we take a leap of faith. We may not see or know exactly where that leap will take us, but we can always rest assured that God sees us. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment