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“Everything Happens for a Reason. Really?” • Romans 8:28-39 • February 13, 2013

Brothers & sisters in Christ, grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Today is Ash Wednesday. It’s the beginning of our Lenten journey – which is more of a pilgrimage than a journey, but however you want to think about it – we begin today. To further lift up the meaning and importance of this day in our Christian life, I want to introduce you to a Methodist pastor named Chuck. Pastor Chuck is part of a YouTube video channel called http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PFAmmlezot4 Chuck Knows Church that is hosted by our United Methodist brothers and sisters. I like Pastor Chuck’s insight on Ash Wednesday.

The dictionary defines a cliché as a trite, stereotyped phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea that has lost originality, ingenuity and impact by long overuse. While some clichés are useful, others are so common that we stop thinking about what they really mean. But if we really stop and think about what they mean, we’d realize that some clichés just aren’t entirely true.
The early bird gets the worm. Yeah, but the early worm gets eaten.

Better safe than sorry. Well, if that were true we might never get out of bed.

There are lots of clichés that are less than entirely true or helpful, and some of them are connected to our faith. That’s what we’re going to explore in this worship series on Wednesdays in Lent. Over the course of the next few weeks we’re going to take a closer look at some of the most popular clichés that circulate in Christian community.

Chances are that, like me, you’ve used a few of these clichés a time or two. The intention of this series is not to make us feel guilty for having used them; it’s to help us think more deeply about what they say and what they imply about God, about us, and about our life together in the body of Christ. I think we’ll discover along the way that these clichés can do more harm than good, communicating things we really don’t intend to communicate. Together we’ll explore some things that might be more helpful and a more faithful response when the need arises.

We begin today with one of the most popular clichés, one that I can’t even begin to count the number of times I have heard it – “everything happens for a reason.” Why is this one so popular?

At its core, it may be because one of our basic needs as human beings is to find meaning in things that happen to us in our life. When we go through a difficult time, like an illness or the loss of a love one, we want to find meaning and purpose in it, and we search for the “reason” why it happens. We say something like “everything happens for a reason,” in an attempt to control the uncontrollable, to give an answer for something that can never really be understood. We think this may make someone feel better, or at least make ourselves feel better, when in reality it may just make everyone involved more confused.

This week’s cliché is challenging for me because I have trouble understanding what reason God would have for causing or allowing tragedies, natural disasters, child abuse, incurable diseases, or other evil things to happen as we walk through life in this world. This is not the loving God that is reveled to us in Jesus Christ.

God doesn’t cause bad things to happen for a “reason” that we have to try and figure out. The God that is revealed to us in Jesus Christ can transform and redeem any situation that we may find ourselves in. Jesus doesn’t answer the “why” question for us when we go through a difficult time in life, but he does promise to walk with us through it or over it or around it.

Marilyn is a woman who has struggled with a debilitating time of rheumatoid arthritis and pain through 28 surgeries over the past 36 years of her life.

She says that, “In place of a cliché, what has been most helpful is when someone has simply said, ‘I am so sorry you have to go through this. What can I do?’”

“The struggle that I’m facing,” Marilyn explains, “finds peace, hope, encouragement, and love through the presence of someone who doesn’t seek to explain or minimize my struggle, but instead to enter it. And to empower me, care for me, and love me. And in turn, I am able to be that person for someone else. It isn’t our knowledge or strength that brings hope. It’s the light and love of Jesus shining through us.”

What Marilyn is saying is that you and I don’t need to try to explain to someone the reasons why they are going through a painful time or try to fix their pain. We simply need to acknowledge their pain and let them know that we care.

Lutheran theologian Joseph Sittler once said, “When a small child cries out in the middle of the night because she is afraid of the dark, it is the foolish parent who turns on the light, shows the child that there are no monsters in the closet or under the bed, and then turns out the light, telling the child there’s nothing to be afraid of. It is the wise parent who climbs into bed with that child, wraps her in arms of love and comfort, and whispers, ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.’”

Why bad things happen is a mystery, no matter how hard we try to make sense of them. But as followers of Jesus we hold onto the hope that the one we worship is with us in all moments of our life, including the darkest ones. This savior is wrapping us in arms of love, saying to us, “It’s okay. I’m here with you in the midst of whatever you’re going through. You are loved. You are never alone. Together we’ll walk through the valley of dark shadows and back into the light of love and grace and healing and wholeness.”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, I don’t believe that all things happen for a reason, but I do believe that God is with us in all things. As Saint Paul reminds us today in our reading from Romans, God is able to take the darkest and most difficult moments of our lives and redeem them, bringing something good from them. In the midst of the mystery of faith, that’s a hope worth clinging to.

So as Lent begins today with ashes placed upon our foreheads, may that mark of the cross of Christ be a sign that helps you and I remember that we are never alone and that nothing can separate us from the love of God poured out for you and me through Christ Jesus our Savior and Lord. Amen.

Luke 9:28-36 • February 10, 2013

Click here to hear an audio recording of this sermon.

Brothers and sisters in Christ grace and peace to you from God our Father and Lord and Savior Jesus. Amen.

I’m guessing that all of us have had what is commonly referred to as a “mountain top experience” at one time or another in our life.
A few weeks ago I was invited to participate in a First Call Theological Education Retreat for pastors in our synod at Metigoshe Ministries north of Bottineau. My drive from Bismarck to Minot was rather uneventful, some blowing snow, an occasional stretch of ice, freezing rain and sleet around Baldwin and Max. You know, pretty much normal seasonal driving conditions for North Dakota. As I left Minot though, I could see that there was change on the horizon.

Within minutes I drove into a dark cloud and for about 90 miles drove through some of the most dense fog I have ever experienced. Add to it snow, blowing snow, and ice and by the time I made it to the retreat center, I was glad that I had made it safely but somewhat unclear as to how I had actually gotten there.

As the retreat came to an end two and a half days later, I wasn’t ready to leave. But those of us who had gathered for a few days of rest and conversation about what God is up to in our congregations and around the world, couldn’t keep our tents pitched at the retreat center and stay on this mountain. We needed to go. During our time on the mountain that we know as Lake Metigoshe, we experienced the shining presence of God and were changed. It was time for us to head back down and return to the work that God had called us to do as a spouses and parents, friends, pastors, and children of God. But were we ready? I mean, couldn’t we just keep our tents pitched for one more day??

There is a true story of a truck driver named Larry Walters who loved to sit on his backyard lawn chair and look at the sky. Longing to fly. He had dreamt of flying for as long as he could remember, but never had the time or money to become a pilot.

One day in 1982, Larry had an idea. He decided to tie 45 helium-filled surplus weather balloons to his lawn chair and see if he could finally fulfill his dream of flying. He put a CB-radio on his lap, tied a couple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to his leg, and slung a BB-gun over his shoulder so he could pop the balloons when he wanted to come down. He lifted off the ground in his lawn-chair and hoped to get a few hundred feet in the air. But instead, he quickly shot up to 11,000 feet. To make things worse he had dropped his BB-gun during the unexpectedly rapid ascent into the skies over LA and ended up right in the middle of the approach corridor to the Los Angeles International Airport.

Eventually Larry was safely back on the ground. During a media interview, he was asked why he did it. “Well, you can’t just sit there.”, he said.

Then they asked him if he was scared. Rather calmly he answered, “Yes…wonderfully so.”

I think Jesus’ disciples Peter, James, and John may have answered in much the same way if the media had asked if they were scared after what they had just experienced on the mountain. To which, one would hope their reply would be, “Yes…wonderfully so.”

The Christian life is filled with mountain top experiences. They are experiences of amazing joy and satisfaction. Experiences of being together in community or simply sitting quietly alone. Experiences of breathtaking beauty or unconditional love. It’s tempting isn’t it? Tempting to want to just sit there. To pitch a tent and not want to leave.

We expect, or at least want, our journey as followers of the savior Jesus Christ to be made solely through these kinds of experiences. We want to bypass the chaos that we see in the communities we live in, the challenges that unexpectedly come before us, the uncertainty that each new day brings, the struggles that we hope we will be able to endure.

Pastor Lee Koontz reminded me of a well-known Hallmark-style proverb this week. You may have heard this before – “’life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.’ This may be true to some degree,” Pastor Koontz wrote in a reflection on our gospel today from Luke, “but it’s also true that life – especially the Christian one – continually calls us down from those breath-taking moments, down from the mountaintop. We are called to descend from our moments of profound glory, celebration, and joy, into the valleys of this world where life is messy, and challenging, and inhospitable.”

Often when others share their mountain top experiences with me, a life changing event that’s taken place, I’m struck by how stuck they are. They have pitched their tent after that one experience and haven’t moved off the mountain.

You see, our excuses, our own thoughts and ideas, and our plans for God are very different from where Jesus actually leads us. These experiences may be a little scary from time to time. In those times, may your words echo those of Larry Walters from that story I shared with you a few minutes ago when he was asked if he was scared while flying over LA on a lawn chair, “yes…wonderfully so.”

So – as you leave worship on this day that we call Transfiguration, are you ready to come down from the mountain?

Author Karen Ward says, “All of heaven breaks loose for us in the weekly assembly (she’s referring to our time together in worship), but we miss it” she says “if we are sleeping. (yes, I can see you)” Ward offers this challenge, “As we awake to God’s presence, let us not lock it away in booths of our own security and salvation. Instead of snoozing, let us be dazzled, opening our hearts to God’s presence, a source of courage, power and might that will motivate us to go out into the world and point others to God’s most brilliant light.”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, as we say at every celebration of the sacrament of Holy Baptism at Good Shepherd, “May your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your father in heaven.” May you be richly blessed this week as you come down from your mountain top experiences, step out of the tents that you have built, and freely share the radiant light of our savior Jesus Christ with everyone you meet. Amen.

Related articles

• Silence on the Mountain (incrediblygoodnews.wordpress.com)
• Better Than I Imagined… (apologus.wordpress.com)
• Listening to Jesus (stumblingzombie.wordpress.com)
• When God is Silent (reflectionsofgracehome.wordpress.com)