Two stories, one God

Two stories, one God

Monday, April 1, 2019

Now there was a royal official whose son was ill in Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea,
he went to him and asked him to come down and heal his son, who was near death. Jesus said to him, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe.” The royal official said to him, “Sir, come down before my child dies.” Jesus said to him, “You may go; your son will live.” The man believed what Jesus said to him and left.

– From John 4

The servants met their master along the way and told him, “Yes! Your son is well.” He began his recovery at just the time when Jesus spoke to him.

But there’s another story, with another ending, this one not about a stranger, but about a man after God’s own heart, Jesus’ most well-known ancestor:

The Lord struck the child that Uriah’s wife had borne to David, and he became ill. David sought God on behalf of the child. He fasted and went in and lay all night on the ground. On the seventh day the child died.

When David saw that his servants were whispering together, David understood the child was dead. And David said to his servants, “Is the child dead?” They said, “He is dead.” Then David arose from the earth and washed and anointed himself and changed his clothes. And he went into the house of the Lord and worshiped. At home, they set food before him, and he ate.

David said, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept, for I thought, ‘Who knows whether the Lord will be gracious to me, that the child may live?’  But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” (From 2 Samuel 12)

Bono and Eugene Peterson, talking about the Psalms, yearn together for “honesty” in Christian art. Bono asks, “Why couldn’t a Christian write a song about their bad marriage and give honor to God?”

Good question. We spend much more teaching and preaching time on the miracle of Jesus than we do on the death of David’s child. And that’s not really fair, especially to parents whose children have died.

Do I need a miracle to get a witness to the power and grace and mercy of God? Oh, I hope not. If I do, my faith is dishonest, my hope is disrespectful, and my love is selfish.

Bad things happen to good people, so Pastor Peterson said we must be able to “cuss without cussing.” In Ephesians 4, Paul quoted Psalm 4 and said, “Be angry, and do not sin.”

Like David I will pray and fast, and say, “Who knows whether the Lord will be gracious to me?” In this way I live out my faith and hope.

But also like David, I may not get my wish. What then? It’s simple to say but hard to do: I must go “into the house of God and worship.” His unchanging grace falls on us for better or for worse. Still, in my despair I sometimes turn away, am angry, cuss. And sin.

God’s in no hurry. He waits and sits with me while I weep my bitter tears. He listens to me ask “Why?” He listens to me sigh, “If only …” He listens to me even when I say, “Don’t you even love me, Lord?”

In this place beyond words, God just holds me. Touches my face with his hand. Runs his fingers gently through my hair.

Wipes our mingled tears.

At last I turn back and lay my head against God’s chest. His arms tighten around me. Listening to his silent lovesong, I am reminded as he reminded David, of eternity. And I too whisper, “I shall go to him …”

Lord, pour your long view of my life into the mold you make for me. Be patient with my confusion and anger. I know the chaos that I feel turns at last to tapestry. There is no hurry. It will come.

http://www.davesandel.net/category/lent-easter-devotions-2019/

http://www.christiancounselingservice.com/archived_devotions.php?article_id=1777