Pondering Good Grief, Part 2

Yesterday I said I would post the portion of Ben Witherington's article in Christianity Today that I would like to interact with over the course of a few blog posts. Here it is:

Was This God's Will?

From the day Christy died, I was determined to be open to whatever positive thing there might be to glean from this seeming tragedy. I clung to the promise of Romans 8:28, that "God works all things together for good for those who love him."

The first point immediately confirmed in my heart was theological: God did not do this to my child. God is not the author of evil. God does not terminate sweet lives with a pulmonary embolism. Pulmonary embolisms are a result of the bent nature of this world. As Ann kept repeating, "God is not the problem; he is the solution."

One primary reason I am not a Calvinist is that I do not believe in God's detailed control of all events. Why? First, because I find it impossible to believe that I am more merciful or compassionate than God. Second, because the biblical portrait shows that God is pure light and holy love. In him there is no darkness, nothing other than light and love. And third, the words, "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away," from the lips of Job (1:21), are not good theology. According to Job 1, it was not God but the Devil who took away Job's children, health, and wealth. God allowed it to happen, but when Job said these words, as the rest of the story shows, he was not yet enlightened about the true nature of the source of his calamity and God's actual will for his life. God's will for him was for good and not for harm.

The beginning of "good grief" starts with the premise of a good God. Otherwise, all bets are off. If God is almighty and malevolent, then there is no solace to be found in him. If God is the author of sin, evil, suffering, the Fall, and death, then the Bible makes no sense when it tells us that God tempts no one, that God's will is that none should perish but have everlasting life, and that death is the very enemy of God and humankind that Jesus, who is life, came to abolish and destroy.

Jesus said, "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" (John 10:10). If there are promises I cling to as I weep for our Christy, it is this promise, not the sorry solace and cold comfort of, "God did this but we do not know why." No! A thousand times, no. God and his will are aligned with what is good and true and beautiful and loving and holy.

Days later, as I stood before the casket and stared at our "Christy girl," as we called her, I was so thankful that the God of the Resurrection had a better plan for her. Her lifeless body was so cold, so empty. The phrase, "It's all God's will," is cold comfort. I believe in a God whose "Yes!" to life is louder than death's "No!" Death is not God's will. On the contrary, God is in the trenches with us, fighting the very same evils we fight in this world—disease, suffering, sorrow, sin, and death itself. He cries with us.

Pondering Good Grief, Part 1

Around a year ago I read Adrian Warnock's book Raised with Christ: How the Resurrection Changes Everything. This past Holy Week I picked up the book again to review a chapter as I prepared my heart for Easter Sunday. Inside the front cover, I had scribbled this statement:

Is God only worthy of my worship when He conforms to my expectations for how He should act? If I don't have a God who can contradict my wisdom/intentions, then I'm worshiping a figment of my imagination.

As I re-read that note inside the book, I recalled the circumstances in which I had written it: about a week or two prior, my mom had experienced a catastrophic infection that ravaged her body and has left her in a semi-vegetative condition, confined to a bed in a nursing home, for the past 13 months. With that little statement tucked inside a book on the resurrection, I was preaching to myself.

The same week that I re-read my reflection, I read Ben Witherington's article in the most recent issue of Christianity titled, What Good Grief Looks Like When a Daughter Dies. His daughter, Christy, died suddenly of a pulmonary embolism at the age of 32. In the article, Witherington writes of how he walked the way of grace in the midst of his grief.

I'm going to take a few blog posts to interact in particular with one portion of the article, which disturbed me personally because of its view of God and His role in this tragedy. From what I can gather in the article, it seems as though Witherington would disagree with the note I wrote to myself last April, or at least what that note was assuming. For my own reflection and grappling, I am going to interact with Witherington a little bit, since I have tasted at least a measure of this grief in seeing what has happened to my mom over the past year.

But this post is getting long enough. Tomorrow I'll post the portion of the article that I feel compelled to interact with.

Ingredients

There's not many items on this list that you'd like to eat alone, right? Maybe the peanut butter, but I don't see anything else looking very tasty.

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 cups white sugar

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 cup butter

1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1 cup buttermilk

2 eggs, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups creamy peanut butter

1/2 cup butter

1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1/3 cup buttermilk

4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

But when it all gets mixed up, it turns into this:

I'll be trying to unpack the implications of this from Ecclesiastes 3 this coming Sunday. I'm looking forward to it...

Safe

The other day I recommended Paul Tripp's book of meditations on Psalm 27, called A Shelter in the Time of Storm. Here's a sampling, a reflection based on verse 5, "He will hide me in His shelter in the day of trouble."

I know it's not Scripture, but this might be worth committing to memory, or at least reading on a daily basis. I know my "prone to wander" heart is certainly in constant need of these reminders:

I am safe,
not because I have no
trouble,
or because I never experience
danger.
I am safe,
not because people affirm
me,
or my plans always
work out.
I am safe,
not because I am immune
from disease,
or free of the potential for
poverty.
I am safe,
not because I am protected from
disappointment,
or separated from this
fallen world.
I am safe,
not because I am
wise or strong.
I am safe,
not because I deserve
comfort or have earned my
ease.
I am safe,
not because of
money
or power,
or position,
or intellect,
or who I know,
or where I live.
I am safe because of the glorious mystery of
grace.
I am safe because of the presence of
boundless love.
I am safe because of
divine mercy,
divine wisdom,
divine power,
and divine grace.
I am safe,
not because I never face
danger,
but because You are
with me in it.
You have not given me
a ticket out of danger.
You have not promised me
a life of ease.
You have chosen to place me
in a fallen world.
I am safe
because You have given me
the one thing
that is the
only thing
that will ever keep me safe.
You have given me
You.
I am safe
from my evil heart
and this shattered world,
not because I can escape
them both,
but because in the middle of
temptation and trial,
danger and disappointment,
sickness and want,
You give me everything
I need to
fight temptation
and avoid defeat
and to point others
to the safety
that can be found only
in You.
So, I will wake up tomorrow
and face the anxiety
of not knowing,
the fear of my own weakness,
and the reality of the fall.
I will live with
faith,
courage,
perseverance,
and hope.
And when danger comes,
and it will,
I will whisper to
my weakening heart,
"Emmanuel is your shelter;
you are safe."

For reflection:
1. Where in your life is God exposing the inadequacy and unreliability of the places to which you have looked for safety?
2. Humbly consider if there is a person or thing that you would rather have in your life than the security the Lord has promised you in his care.

Lessons Learned After a Year

One year ago tomorrow, Matt Chandler underwent surgery that removed a malignant tumor from his brain. In this blog post he talks about some of the lessons he's learned through the past year.

Though I've never met him, I love this man and am so grateful to God for the example he is setting in treasuring Christ above all.

Suffering & Idolatry

This blog post from Tullian Tchividjian is worth your time. A few of my favorite quotes:

Job’s maintained his joy and perspective in a season of suffering because he held onto a robust theology of grace. Job knew that he was not entitled to anything he had—God held the title to everything.

Our response to suffering reveals what we’re building our life on and what we’re depending on to make life worth living. This means that suffering itself does not rob you of joy—idolatry does. If you’re suffering and you’re angry, bitter, and joyless it means you’ve idolized–and felt entitled to–whatever it is you’re losing.

Joylessness and bitterness in the crucible of pain happens when we lose something (or think we deserve something) that we’ve held onto more tightly than God.

Much of our anger and bitterness is [the result of] God prying open our hands and taking away something we’ve held onto more tightly than him.

The Lesson of Job

Pastor Tullian quotes Piper on the book of Job:

I came with nothing from the womb, I go with nothing to the tomb.
He is not poor nor much enticed, who loses everything but Christ.

The Cecropia Moth

In his book Trusting God, Jerry Bridges opens his chapter titled Growing through Adversity with the following illustration:

One of the many fascinating events in nature is the emergence of the Cecropia moth from its cocoon -- an event that occurs only with much struggle on the part of the moth to free itself. The story is frequently told of someone who watched a moth go through this struggle. In an effort to help -- and not realizing the necessity of the struggle -- the viewer snipped the shell of the cocoon.

Soon the moth came out with its wings all crimped and shriveled. But as the person watched, the wings remained weak. The moth, which in a few moments would have stretched those wings to fly, was now doomed to crawling out its brief life in frustration of ever being the beautiful creature God created it to be.

What the person in the story did not realize was that the struggle to emerge from the cocoon was an essential part of developing the muscle system of the moth's body and pushing the body fluids out into the wings to expand them. By unwisely seeking to cut short the moth's struggle, the watcher had actually crippled the moth and doomed its existence.

The adversities of life are much like the cocoon of the Cecropia moth. God uses them to develop the spiritual "muscle system" of our lives (see James 1:2-4).

So don't lose heart in your wearisome struggles; God is preparing you to fly.

The Mendicant

I love this poem (the word "mendicant" means beggar):

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne

And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart

I cried, "But Lord this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.

This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me."

He said, "My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee."

I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,

As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.

I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,

He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.

Tasty Encouragement

This quote from Jerry Bridges brought encouragement...and made me a little hungry:

While growing up in Texas, I enjoyed my mother's buttermilk biscuits made from scratch every morning for breakfast. But there was not a single ingredient in those biscuits that I would have enjoyed by itself. And even after they were mixed together, I would not have cared for the raw biscuit dough. Only after they were mixed together in the right proportions by my mother's skillful hands and then subjected to the fire of the oven were they ready to be enjoyed for breakfast.

The "things" of Romans 8:28 ("all things work together for good...") are like the ingredients of the biscuit dough. By themselves they are not tasteful to us; we shun them. And we certainly shun the heat of the oven. But when God in His infinite skill has blended them all together and cooked them properly in the oven of adversity, we shall one day say it is good.

Glorifying God

John Piper:

Glorifying God means showing by your actions and attitudes that God is glorious to you—that he is valuable, precious, desirable, satisfying. And the greatest way to show that someone satisfies your heart is to keep on rejoicing in them when all other supports for your satisfaction are falling away. When you keep rejoicing in God in the midst of suffering, it shows that God, and not other things, is the great source of your joy.

Dealing with Suffering

As is often the case with Matt Chandler's stuff, I was challenged and encouraged by this video:

How to talk to Satan and his Demons

According to John Piper, based on 1 Peter 3:22, which reads, "[Jesus] is at the right hand of God, having gone into heaven, after angels and authorities and powers had been subjected to Him":

"You are subject to Jesus. Jesus reigns at God's right hand and you are under him. You can do nothing without his permission. You are a cat on a chain. You cannot touch me unless he lets you. And he will only let you to the degree that your touch will turn for my good and for his glory."

The Great Mystery

Perhaps this will elicit another comment from Steve, telling us there is another side to the story, but nevertheless, I was moved by this quote from C.J. Mahaney at this year's Together for the Gospel conference:

The great mystery is not, "Why do I suffer?" The great mystery is, why would the sinless Son of God suffer as my substitute on the cross for my sin, receiving the wrath I deserved so that I might be forgiven and declared righteous? That is the great mystery of mercy. And that mystery can and will make all the difference in the severest forms of suffering.

Longing with all my heart to get this wonderful truth deeply rooted in my soul, before my day of suffering comes. Because I know that in this groaning world, my day surely will come. And because of Christ, that is not something to fear.

Suffering and Sanctification

Speaking of the trials and hardships that Christians are called to endure, Hebrews 12:11 says:
"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it."

Suffering trains us. In You Can Change, Tim Chester uses a classic 80's movie to illustrate:

In the film Karate Kid, the young student is assigned a series of tasks by the old master. He thinks they're all meaningless and irrelevant -- painting the fence, waxing the car, and so on. But eventually he discovers the repeated hand and arm movements have given him strength, reflexes and agility -- everything he needs to be a great karate fighter!

Often the events of our lives appear to be meaningless and irrelevant. But all the time God is training using grace and godliness...Sinful desires can lurk in our hearts unnoticed because those desires are neither threatened nor thwarted. But suffering stirs the calm waters of latent desires. It reveals the true state of our hearts.

What a great reminder...who thought the Karate Kid could be so edifying!

Together for the Gospel Video

If, like me, you would have liked to be at the Together for the Gospel conference this past week, you can check out the video from all the sessions here.

I spent some time this morning watching Matt Chandler's talk from yesterday morning and was, as I expected, very edified. If you don't have time to watch the whole thing, just the last 5 minutes where the guys pray for Matt will strengthen your resolve to suffer well for Christ's glory. That said, the whole video is certainly worth your time:

T4G 2010 -- Special Session -- Matt Chandler from Together for the Gospel (T4G) on Vimeo.

Hope for our Hurts

Tim Chester:

For all eternity your past experience of evil will enhance your eternal experience of glory.

And there's Scripture to back that up:

"For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."

2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

Don't Waste Your Health

I am 32, and cancer-free (I think). Zac Smith was my age when he learned that he had cancer in his colon. After watching this four-minute video of his story, I found myself longing for this kind of heart whenever my day of affliction comes.

Until then, I want to use my health the way Zac is using his cancer: to magnify the greatness of his God and King, Jesus Christ.

The Story of Zac Smith from NewSpring Media on Vimeo.

Preach to Yourself

This morning I read Psalm 42, and every time I read that psalm I can't help but think of these words from Martyn Lloyd Jones:

“Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself? Take those thoughts that come to you the moment you wake up in the morning. You have not originated them, but they start talking to you, they bring back the problems of yesterday, etc.

Somebody is talking. Who is talking? Your self is talking to you. Now this man’s treatment was this; instead of allowing this self to talk to him, he starts talking to himself. ‘Why art thou cast down, O my soul?’ he asks. His soul had been depressing him, crushing him. So he stands up and says: ‘Self, listen for a moment, I will speak to you.’…

The main art in the matter of spiritual living is to know how to handle yourself. You have to take yourself in hand, you have to address yourself, preach to yourself, question yourself. You must say to your soul: ‘Why art thou cast down’– what business have you to be disquieted?

You must turn on yourself, upbraid yourself, condemn yourself, exhort yourself, and say to yourself: ‘Hope thou in God’– instead of muttering in this depressed, unhappy way. And then you must go on to remind yourself of God, Who God is, and what God is and what God has done, and what God has pledged Himself to do.

Then having done that, end on this great note: defy yourself, and defy other people, and defy the devil and the whole world, and say with this man: ‘I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance, who is also the health of my countenance and my God.’”

In my experience at least, it really is true: all my disappointment and unrest of soul is the result of my unwillingness to preach truth to myself about what I know to be true of the great God who has redeemed me and is committed to working all things for my good.

Matt Chandler's Cornerstone

Yesterday in my sermon I mentioned a video in which Matt Chandler shared about his standing on Jesus as his cornerstone as he goes through radiation and chemotherapy for brain cancer. For those interested, here is that video:



Continue to pray for Matt and his family; I have been so encouraged to see his steadfastness as he stands firm while his whole world shakes around him. A true testimony that those who believe in Christ, the true cornerstone, will never be put to shame.