Written by Lauren Lobenhofer, Lead Pastor of Cave Spring UMC, Roanoke, VA
I often hear people ask, “Where is God when bad things happen?” Where is God when God’s people suffer from poverty and illness, or when creation is damaged or destroyed? In the face of immense suffering within creation, we find ourselves wondering why God allows such horrors to occur.
In Psalm 82, God flips the script on that conversation. In this Psalm, instead of humans asking where God is in the midst of suffering, God asks those who exercise power in the world why they have allowed injustice and hardship. The “divine council” mentioned in verse one may refer to the local deities worshiped by the other people in Canaan, or they may simply be a metaphor for the powers and principalities we elevate within our societies. However we understand this phrase, it points to the people and institutions who wield power in the world. It is these people and institutions God confronts.
Just as humankind wails “How long, O Lord?” in Psalm 13, God returns the question in Psalm 82. God sees the brokenness of the world and cries out, “How long?” The Almighty names conditions that break our hearts: Injustice, poverty, oppression, the suffering of the vulnerable among us, and God laments these ills, too. Just as our hearts cry out for our hurting siblings in our community and around the world, God mourns the suffering of God’s children. God shows deep compassion for God’s people and powerful longing for the world to be made whole.
But where we wish to cast the blame on God, in this Psalm the Holy One points to our complicity in our neighbors’ misery. God calls to account the power structures that cause harm and suffering and, by extension, those of us who support and participate in these systems. God says in Psalm 82:6, “You are gods, children of the Most High, all of you;” our Creator reminds us that we have the power to contribute to harm or to resist it. We have the ability to change things for the better or allow them to get worse.
It is this power Jesus points to when he quotes Psalm 82 in John 10. Earlier in the chapter, Jesus contrasts the self-sacrificing love of the good shepherd with the selfishness of thieves and bandits. He proclaims his identity as the Son of God and cites his care for God’s flock as evidence of this truth. When the religious authorities push back on this assertion, Jesus quotes Psalm 82. Like the Almighty in the Psalm, Jesus reminds these religious folks that they are God’s children, that they have the power to make things better. In the midst of this assertion sit challenging questions: Where have you been while your neighbors have been suffering? Have you used your power to make the world better?
Jesus then answers the question for himself. Jesus tells his audience to look at what he has done, to recall that he has fed people, healed people, cast out demons, and revealed God’s kingdom love. Jesus reveals his identity as the Son of God and the Savior through his acts of love—those he has already performed and, most importantly, in the death and resurrection for which he is already preparing.
In Jesus we see where God is when humankind is suffering. God is with us. God is lamenting alongside us, sitting in solidarity with our pain and grief, crying out “How long?” God is working for good, for redemption, for the transformation of the world. God is giving God’s Son to save us. And God is inviting us to join in this task, to use our power as children of God to love others as the Son of God has loved us.
Written by Dan Kim, Pastor of Gum Spring United Methodist Church in Gum Spring, VA.
Psalm 62, New Revised Standard Version
Song of Trust in God Alone
To the leader: according to Jeduthun. A Psalm of David.
1 For God alone my soul waits in silence;
from him comes my salvation.
2 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall never be shaken.
3 How long will you assail a person,
will you batter your victim, all of you,
as you would a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
4 Their only plan is to bring down a person of prominence.
They take pleasure in falsehood;
they bless with their mouths,
but inwardly they curse.Selah
5 For God alone my soul waits in silence,
for my hope is from him.
6 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
7 On God rests my deliverance and my honor;
my mighty rock, my refuge is in God.
8 Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.Selah
9 Those of low estate are but a breath,
those of high estate are a delusion;
in the balances they go up;
they are together lighter than a breath.
10 Put no confidence in extortion,
and set no vain hopes on robbery;
if riches increase, do not set your heart on them.
11 Once God has spoken;
twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God,
12 and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord.
For you repay to all
according to their work.
Matthew 16:27, New Revised Standard Version
27 “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.
Drive.Repent.Repeat.
I do a lot of my praying while driving. It’s quiet, I’m alone, and I can be as confessional and ineloquent as I want. I will usually pray for the day that I’m having, but every once in a while, perhaps more oftentimes during rush hour, I will pray for the cars/drivers around me. I remember this one time I prayed for a lifted Ford truck that was behind me. He was tailgating me; all the while trying to push his way through what is clearly a traffic jam. I may have passive-aggressively driven even slower as a result. My prayers started out genial. “Lord, be with this truck that is right behind me. May he realize that he’s too close and drive more safely. Amen.” However, and I’ll be honest here, my so-called “prayers” turned rather ugly, especially when he got right next to me, honked, and stared me down while speeding off. I prayed, “God of all power and might! Be with this truck right now! May your justice roll like waters and righteousness! May he realize the error of his ways!” Ok, maybe I was being a little too overzealous, but the most incredible thing happened 10 minutes later. I saw him pulled over by a police officer and receiving what I hoped was a hefty ticket for his reckless driving. I felt vindicated. I felt avenged! I shook my fist in the air and declared, “Vengeance is mine in my Toyota Corolla!”
However, it’s not. And the following scriptures would say otherwise. Psalm 62:11-12 says, “Once God has spoken, twice I have heard this; that power belongs to God and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord. For you repay to all according to their work.” Jesus says in Matthew 16:27, “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.” Romans 12:19 says, “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’”Prayer is not a weapon I can wield like some tattletale hotline for God to police through divine justice. Prayer is an experience of God’s love and grace that shapes us to those ends. And justice belongs to the Lord. That’s indeed the lesson these passages teach me. But, I still want to pray in my car and for those cars around me. How then should I pray? Well, I turn to another passage in Matthew for that. Matthew 5:43-45: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” I should pray like that more often in my car. God bless and be with the truck tailgating me. God bless and be with the car on my right that is texting while driving. God bless and be with the red-light runner in front of me. God forgive me who doesn’t pray righteously or drive safely all the time in my car.
Written by Jonathan Page, Pastor of Herndon United Methodist Church in Herndon, VA.
We humans love protection. We do a lot to keep ourselves safe, and, amazingly, it often chalks up to what we are wearing. Usually, these are temporary measures like seatbelts in cars or steel-toed boots on worksites. There might be some measures that feel more permanent right now like masks in public spaces. The functions of what we wear are distinct as well. Consider the thoughts of stand-up comedian Demetri Martin around vests: “I think vests are all about protection. You know what I mean? Like a life vest protects you from drowning and bulletproof vests protect you from getting shot and the sweater vest protects you from pretty girls.”
Protection is so personal to us that we have to put it on. It becomes our most proximate line of defense, what keeps us safe when everything else is dangerous. In the 48th Psalm, there is an observation that protection isn’t just an individual effort; rather, in many cases, protection becomes the work of the community. The prayer of the Psalmist here is for the security of Jerusalem, for the protection of the temple. May God uphold these places in such a way that royalty cannot. It’s as if there is an anticipation of testifying to God based on God’s action to preserve what is known, what is there.
And yet what happens? The walls will fall. What has been built by people to protect will no longer serve that function. And in the midst of this, God’s vision will be greater.
I love the latter half of John 2. Jesus enters the Jerusalem temple to find all sorts of shenanigans going on. This is where the whole table-turning, people-chasing side of the Christ comes to life. This doesn’t please the Jewish leaders, who will ask Jesus by what authority he is doing “these things”. And how does Jesus respond? “Destroy this temple and in three days I’ll raise it up” (John 2:19, CEB).
What he means by this is not the temple with walls of brick and stone, but this body of his that will die and be raised. This body that is vulnerable to the scourges and scars of whips and tattered cords. This body that will be a vehicle for the teaching and preaching and healing and grace-filled love of God. This body that has no seatbelts or boots or vests.
And yet when we can see the person of Jesus as the true temple of God, perhaps we find the protection we need. It won’t be something we point to with a sense of pride like we had something to do with it. It isn’t through anything our hands could do or build.
Instead, through the abundant and abiding love of God, born to tear down the walls and loose the chains to set a people free, there we will find everything we will ever need. To live in the auspices of this God is to be made vulnerable, exposed, and simple. But perhaps within this susceptibility is a different kind of susceptibility: to see our neighbors as a people to be loved more than feared. To see our possessions as means more than ends. And to see our God as greater than any temple or city or location. Maybe, just maybe, we would for once be susceptible to seeing God as God, eternal and right now. Nothing more, nothing less, nothing else. Amen.
Written by Charlie Baber, Pastor of Youth Ministry at University United Methodist Church in Chapel Hill, NC
“Happy are people who are humble, because they will inherit the earth.” Matthew 5:5
When Jesus delivers the beatitudes in his Sermon on the Mount, he pronounces blessings on people who typically wouldn’t consider themselves #blessed. For example, we traditionally have translated Matt. 5:5 to read, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Certainly, the meek are humble, but meekness also implies submissive, easily imposed upon. The meek are those who will not resort to violence and coercion to get their way.
And in what scenario are the submissive claiming land? Usually, the conquest goes to the mighty victor. The land is sold to the wealthy. In our present housing market, the cost of land continues to soar, and it’s certainly not the meek who are able to purchase houses right now. You have to have cash in hand, the privilege to forego housing inspection, and the conniving luck to beat out all other buyers as soon as a new house goes on the market.
This particular blessing of the meek is not new to Israel’s faith story. Jesus is actually quoting Psalm 37. This Psalm is attributed to David, and instead of being a praise or petition to God, it is more like the book of Proverbs. Psalm 37 is an acrostic poem, where the author seeks to instill wisdom for the disenfranchised. Take a minute to pause and read Psalm 37 in its entirety.
Much like the book of Job, this Psalm challenges the popular rhetoric that God categorically blesses the righteous with health and wealth. This Psalm recognizes that often, the wicked do prosper at the expense of the righteous, and that it can become a temptation to participate in wickedness in order to get ahead. Over and over, the psalmist encourages the disenfranchised, “trust the Lord,” “enjoy the Lord,” “Commit your way to the Lord,” “be still before the Lord and wait for him.” We are encouraged not to get upset or angry over the injustice, because such emotions unchecked could lead us to fight evil with evil.
Part of the promise to the meek is that the wicked are temporary. They may be powerful. They may seem to get whatever they want. But it will not last. Their victory is a passing storm. Justice is the heart of God, the arc of the universe. And God’s justice is not won through might or power. As we learn in the Gospels, God’s justice is won through the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. When we unite ourselves to this crucified Savior, we participate in the way of meekness, humility, non-violence, and yes, suffering. But being united to this Christ makes us co-heirs (Rom. 8:17), inheritors of the full promises of the Holy Spirit. Though the storms of the wicked come and go, though our suffering and struggle may be long, the final word is this, “Happy are people who are humble, because they will inherit the earth.”
Written by Taylor Mertins, Pastor of Raleigh Court United Methodist Church, Roanoke, VA.
Written by Taylor Mertins, Pastor of Raleigh Court UMC in Roanoke, VA
The temptation scene set out in the wilderness really is as strange as it sounds. And when you take a step back from the whole thing you can’t help but notice that Jesus and the Devil aren’t even really talking to one another.
“If you really are God then prove it Jesus.”
Jesus’ response: “I really am God, so I’m not going to do anything.”
And the devil actually has some good suggestions for the Messiah: Why starve yourself
when you can easily rustle up some grub? Why let these fools destroy themselves when you can take control of everything? Why let the world struggle with doubt when you can prove you are entirely worthy of their faith?
And, perfectly, Jesus responds to each of the temptations by quoting scripture right back into the Devil’s face.
The devil here, frighteningly, actually sounds a whole lot like, well, us. His ideas are some that we regularly champion both inside, and outside, of the church.
Who among us wouldn’t want to give food to the hungry?
Who among us wouldn’t like to see how politics get in order?
Who among us wouldn’t enjoy seeing a powerful demonstration of God’s power
every once in a while?
But Jesus, for as much as he is like us, he is also completely unlike us. For, in his non-
answer answers he declares to the devil, and to all of us, that power, whether it’s over creation, politics, or miracles, doesn’t actually transform the cosmos.
Jesus, in his refusal to take the devil’s offers, reminds us that we, humans, are obsessed with believing that power (and more of it) will make the kingdom come here on earth.
We’ve convinced ourselves, over and over again, that if we just had a little more control, if we just won one more fight, if we could just get everyone to be exactly like us that everything would turn out for the best.
But it never does.
Instead, the poor keep getting poorer and the rich keep getting richer.
Marriages keep falling apart.
Children keep falling asleep hungry.
Churches keep fracturing.
Communities keep collapsing.
Therefore, though it pains us to admit it, Jesus seems to have a point in his squabble with
the Adversary. Because the demonic systems of power, even those under the auspices of making the world a better place, often lead to just as much misery, if not more.
The devil wants to give Jesus a short cut straight to ends that Jesus will, inevitably, bring about in his own life, death, and resurrection.
The devil wants Jesus to do what we want Jesus to do.
Or, perhaps better put: The devil wants Jesus to do what we want to do.
But here’s the Good News, the really Good News: Jesus is able to resist temptations that we would not, could not, and frankly do not.
Even at the very end, when Jesus’ hands are nailed to the cross, he is still tempted by the Adversary through the voices in the crowd: “If you really are who you say you are, save yourself!”
But at the end Jesus doesn’t respond with passages of scripture. He doesn’t offer a litany of things to do or things to avoid. Instead, he dies.
Written by Taylor Mertins, Pastor of Raleigh Court United Methodist Church, Roanoke, VA.
Jesus spends the afternoon feeding 5,000 through his divine mercy. And, when all is said and done, bellies full to the brim, a crowd gathers to question the behavior of this God in the flesh.
Jesus’ response – “You all are looking for me but for the wrong reasons. I delight in giving you food to eat, but I also have something else to offer.”
“What must we do?” The crowds intone.
“Believe” Jesus answers.
“Okay, we get that, but how do we really know you can make good on your promise? Can you rain down from manna from heaven for us like Moses did?”
And then Jesus says, “Moses didn’t give you the manna! It was God who gave the good gift!”
“Sure,” they say, “That’s fine. We’d like some of that bread from heaven please.”
And Jesus answers them, “Have you not heard anything I’ve said? I am the bread!”
What wondrous good news it is that, when Jesus showed up proclaiming the beginning of God’s new kingdom, he did so not with sermons about the Trinity, or the atonement, or justification, or any other big and abstract theological mishmash. Instead, Jesus began by pointing right at our stomachs, to that gnawing, unsatisfied, emptiness within and then invited us to dinner. Jesus feeds the hungry – that’s who Jesus is. Think of the crowds during the days of Moses and during the days of Jesus, imagine how they felt while eating the bread. Did they deserve it? Did they earn it? No!
The Psalmist reminds us that they had done everything but deserve it! God’s wrath was kindled against them and yet God gave them the bread anyway. The 5,000 didn’t have to lay out all their good works before Jesus delighted in filling their bellies.
This is grace. Grace plus Nothing.
Just when we, the people of God, expect to be clobbered with guilt – “You didn’t listen in the wilderness!” “You haven’t loved your neighbors enough!” – we actually get clobbered by grace.
And, when that happens, we begin to realize that whenever we’ve gone looking for peace or happiness by doing this, that, and the other we’ve actually overlooked the God who has always been looking for us.
The One who offers us the gift we simply don’t deserve.
The heart of Christianity is this – We don’t have to give or say or pay anything – In Christ it has all been given, said, and paid for us.
It is by grace and only by grace that we are accepted by God.
Can God spread a table in the wilderness?
That question is often still our question. We look at the wildness of our lives, we spend more time looking backward than forward, and whenever we encounter our own disappointments and shortcomings, we wonder if God can really do anything about it.
Frankly, it’s why some of us keep showing up to church week after week, in-person or online – we want an answer to our question. Can God make something of our nothing? Can God spread a table in the wilderness? And the answer is, quite simply, yes.
God can and God does all the time. God is the Good Shepherd who goes after the one lost sheep, God is the Prodigal Father who rushes out to find us in the street even before we have a chance to apologize, God is the One who, rather than leaving us to our own devices, comes to dwell in the muck and mire of this life to offer us Grace plus Nothing. Amen.
