FAQ

Pentecost 3B 06/21/09

Job 38, 2Cor 6, Mark 4:35-41

Rejoice, for are not grace, peace, and mercy ours this day, from God the Father and from God’s son Jesus, the Christ?

Have you ever seen comedy improvisation? Isn’t that the best? Oh—did they do that old improv exercise—I think it’s called Questions? Isn’t that the one where two comedians do a improvised scene together, the restriction being every line must be a question? How hard is that? Do you think you could speak only in questions? Do you think I could? Well, how about a sermon containing only questions? Wouldn’t that be a challenge?

A sermon with only questions? Why would anyone want to listen to that? What word from God for God’s people could possibly be proclaimed using only questions? You think that this is an exercise for fools? Why—why a sermon of questions?

Can’t you see it’s because the readings for today either feature actual questions, or imply questions, and some even demand questions? God’s FAQs, if you will—frequently asked questions—you’ve seen that grouping of letters before, haven’t you? FAQs–are there really that many of them? Are you kidding?

Who hasn’t asked God a question or three at some time in his/her life? Who hasn’t wondered about the creation, or the workings of salvation, or what paths to follow in certain situations? And who hasn’t questioned God’s love and care for us when things go horribly wrong, and we or some loved ones are hurt? Anyone? Anyone?

What does God answer? Does God answer? And if God does answer, how does God accomplish it? Prophets? Priests? Apostles? In scripture? Tradition? Secret codes? Visions? Dreams? All of the above? Shall we look at today’s readings to help enlighten us as to God’s FAQs? (Why not?)

Are you familiar with the story of Job? How Satan convinced God to test Job’s loyalty and faith by turning his picture perfect life into a massive mess of death, disease, economic loss, and derision? Do you remember how Job maintains his innocence and keeps his faith, despite the shoddy theological advice of his so-called friends, who speculate that Job must have done something to cause God to treat him so? Ah, but he finally broke down and questioned God’s goodness, didn’t he? “Did I not weep for the poor? Did I ever mistreat my servants, did I love wealth too much, or have impure thoughts?” “I am of small account, what shall I answer you, O God?” Tough questions, huh?

And did God answer him? Is the pope catholic?

But isn’t it ironic, too, that God answers Job—in questions? “Where were you, Job, when I laid the foundation of the earth?” “Who determined the earth’s measurements—surely you know?” And later in the story—“Shall a faultfinder contend with Almighty God?” And, “Will you condemn me that you might be justified?” Would you believe that God hits Job with 54 questions of that sort? Can you imagine how that made Job feel? Humbled? Could he be anything but humbled?

But is that it? Is that the answer he gets from God as a righteous man who is suffering in every way possible—without reason or cause? “You’re a human so you must accept that God’s way of doing things is different?” Even though that’s hard to stomach sometimes? And isn’t it just so like God to pull out all that “I am God. I created the heavens and the earth” kind of stuff to remind us of his awesome power and our puniness in comparison?

But where was God when Job was suffering? Huh? Where? Oh yeah–wasn’t God up there in his heavenly throne room with the angels and Satan watching this human drama unfold? Except for his appearance to Job—wasn’t that comforting? You don’t think that speaking out of a tornado was pushing it, do you?

Anyway—what about God’s protecting God’s people? What about the Almighty in Almighty God? Is it just his first name? What about omnipotence? What about the existence of suffering and evil in the world—death, crime, illness, poverty, hunger, political unrest, war, hatred, racism?

Is the answer that we brought it upon ourselves through sin? Now, truth be told, does that smell like a divine cop-out, or what? Isn’t that little more than a philosophical parlor game—a dodge? God allows us freedom and what do we do with it? But doesn’t that mean Almighty God allows evil to be in his creation? And for what? Why do we suppose that it is the best of all possible ways of thinking about God?

Would a world with a God who allowed no 9/11’s, no cancer, no starving children, and no sorrow—really be that bad? Or a world in which God rescued all from adversity—wouldn’t that be worth surrendering your freedom for? Wouldn’t it be okay with you—to know that God is in control of every last detail, from what volcano will be erupting next week, all the way down to the color socks “you” picked to wear today? Wouldn’t all that be great? Can I get an amen?

No amen from me? How come? What need would we have of Jesus Christ? What faith in God would we need when there’s always a happy ending? Do you really want to give up your relationship with God—a close relationship that is based on forgiveness of sin, won for you by the cross? Or could you turn your back on the new life given to you as a result of God’s experience of death? Could we really exist in a world that substituted absolutes for faith? I couldn’t—wouldn’t want to—how bout you?

So, we are stuck with these questions for God, aren’t we? Do you know what the question most asked of God is? Stumped? Did you see that I asked a similar question about that on Facebook this week? “What would you ask God?” The one answer I got was from my friend Marty, who asked God, “Why does everything ‘taste like chicken’?” Can you guess which part of the question he got right? Why? I mean the question, “Why?” How many of you here in this room have ever asked God, “Why?”

It was Job’s question, it is our question, and can you see how it was the disciples’ question as well? Remember how they had pushed out into the lake, heading for the other side, when a wind whipped up and began to sink the boat, and Jesus is asleep in the back of the boat? The disciples’ question as they rouse the Son of God from his beauty sleep? “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

Boiled down to it’s existential essence, isn’t this relatively contextual question in fact a universal, angst-ridden expression of near total abandonment and fear? Doesn’t it constitute a grand cosmic “why?” Why, Jesus, are you checked out – sleeping when we need you most? Why did you talk us into sailing through this chaos? Why did this storm have to come up now? Why us?

If that’s the way the disciples felt then, can you imagine how Paul must have questioned God concerning the success of his mission? Why God, why are my credentials made up of afflictions and hard times? And why am I treated with such disrespect? Why is this crazy, mixed up world of sin and apathy the acceptable time for salvation? What makes it right—that which is so wrong?

So many, many questions—how about answers? People don’t like to leave a question hanging, do they? They want a simple, straight-forward, easy-to-understand, black or white answer—they don’t want the mysterious, or the vague, or the nebulous—they want to know how to think, agree? Did you know that there is no such easy answer to the question of God’s power and his will to make use of it? But that there is an answer? Would I lie to you?

But before I reveal the answer—perhaps it’s a good time for us to consider questions such as the ones in our readings? Where to find them? I thought about going to Ask God.com, but (go figure) the clientele wasn’t exactly supportive of religion—know what I mean? So, then I thought—I know those questions, I have those questions—why not take them from my own heart? Like…

God—why do children get killed in wars?

I’m a nice and decent fellow, why did I have cancer?

What rationale could you possibly have for fathers who abuse their kids?

And from your hearts…?

How can I care for my family while unemployed?

How can you love me God, the things I’ve done?

Don’t you care that my marriage is in danger?

Why don’t you get rid of that bully at school?

All good questions, right? All asking basically the same thing—why? The answer? Didn’t I say that Jesus had the answer? In question form, no less? He says, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” After what you’ve seen and heard? Are you really telling me that you think a storm on the Sea of Galilee is going to stop me and end my mission? Seriously? Don’t you realize that God sent me to ride out the storm with you? Not always to calm the storm, but to calm you with my presence? Have you no faith in that? Have you not faith in me?

I have to admit, I’ve asked myself similar questions—where’s your faith, Tom? Do you trust in Jesus presence in this storm? Do you believe that God is working in the world in a way that ameliorates the pain and suffering—even if you can’t fathom how that could be true? Did you guess that oftentimes the answer is “yes,” but sometimes it’s “no?” What do I do when that happens?

A. Remember that I’m not in the boat alone? (the community of faith exists in no little way to bolster the faith of the suffering when they falter.)

B. Remember that my boat isn’t the only one out in the storm? (Congregations have more in common than just a hymn book—they face the same trials and problems—we can learn from each other.)

C. Remember that Jesus is in the boat, too? (That God is present in suffering is demonstrated by the fact that God was most present in the moment of the greatest evil—the cross.)

D. All of the above?

Now, did you notice that there were a few non-questions in that last part? Well here’s a few more:

May your faith prove strong as you wrestle with the ageless questions concerning suffering. May you look to others to have faith for you when you cannot. May the ambiguity of the answers you discern never discourage you or distract you from the truth that God is love. And may you always remember that the God of Job, of Paul, of the disciples, and of you and I—keeps our hearts and minds in truth and faith.

Amen?