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Printer Friendly VersionJoyful waiting in difficult places. A life-art much to be desired
and acquired only through tremendous patience and suffering. A life-art wherein
the one who waits is placing the weight of his every burden on the strength
and the love of the One in whom he trusts with all of his heart. The apostle
named Paul in a moment met the One who would forever capture His love and
guard his footsteps. Paul trusted deeply in this Jesus the Christ and it made
bearing all things possible.
Time passes by and Paul suffers greatly for the Kingdom of God
as he moves across the outposts and crossroads of the Empire proclaiming the
person and the presence of the Incarnate and Risen Son of God. His passionate
embrace of God’s calling on his life have now brought him to this place,
separated from his friends, at the mercy of his foes, bearing the weight on
the world on his well-worn shoulders. And yet his spirits falter not, rather
his encouragement for those he shepherds is stronger than ever perhaps. We
find him now in Rome, pen in hand, the faces of his friends in distant Philippi
in his mind.
Paul looks out the window across to the Capitaline hill and
the Forum down in the valley; the white marble of the imperial palace glistens
in the brilliant noonday sun; can hear the clanking and shouts of the Praetorian
Guard as they move about. The palace throws its long shadows onto the gray
walls of the Mamertime prison. Paul remembered the several occasions when
he inhabited one of the cold, damp holes in the granite rock there.
He sits in the cool dimness of his rented apartment near the
open window letting the light flood over his desk as he sits gazing out, quill
pen in hand. A legionnaire clomps noisily about against the door, one end
of a long chain fastened about his broad, leather belt. The other end of the
chain is secured around Paul’s right ankle. He has been under house arrest
ever since his arrival in the city some months back. The legionnaire is his
guard
He’s in the midst of writing to his friends at the Philippian
church. Epaphroditus came at just the right time to help but he had spent
the last several weeks lying in the corner on that low bunk fighting fever,
delusional and struggling for life. Fortunately, Luke was nearby to care for
him. Epaphroditus would be leaving soon making the 1200 mile sea journey back
to Philippi. The letter must be ready to send with him.
Paul turns his attention back to the his pen and parchment and
scans the portion of it he was working on. “I want you to know, brothers,
that my circumstances have turned out for the advancement of the gospel.”
He knows his friends are worried about him – brothers and sisters in
Christ’s body carry each other this way. He is uncertain if they know
about his imprisonment, but surely word has gotten to them. But he wants them
to know that he is okay. He tells them that the things that have happened
to him, unjust as they are, have served to further the gospel of Christ. Paul
is an old pro at seeing the best part of a bad situation.
He has access to the members of Caesar’s household; most
of them slaves and servants, many of them Christians that Paul has been discipling
and encouraging. They know about his wrongful arrests, the beatings and the
persecution; they’ve heard about what the Jews have said about Paul.
And they’ve been inspired. They’ve drawn and inspiration from Paul
as he has gracefully weathered the gale of mistreated and difficult times.
He includes this in the letter; a measure of encouragement from one church
to the other. He wants them to have the assurance that God is at work in his
difficult circumstance.
Paul’s suffering of injustice spurred others on to proclaiming
the truth about the coming kingdom of God. Isn’t it true that such stories
motivate our spirits? When we hear the great accounts of somebody’s sacrificial
efforts that we feel coming deep form within us the urge to mimic them, to
be counted in that number? It is written by God deep within our DNA to give
ourselves away and there is no better test of that giving than to do it when
the price is high. We are attracted to that. Bill Hybels of Willow Creek Church
said that there is explosive power in suffering: “When we suffer with
dignity, the Holy Spirit speaks in mighty ways.”
A group of farmers on southern Alabama who were accustomed to
planting one crop every year--cotton. They would plow as much ground as they
could and plant their crop. Year after year they lived by cotton. Then one
year the dreaded boll weevil devastated the whole area. So the next year the
farmers mortgaged their homes and planted cotton again, hoping for a good
harvest. But as the cotton began to grow, the insect came back and destroyed
the crop, wiping out most of the farms.
The few who survived those two years of the boll weevil decided
to experiment the third year, so they planted something they'd never planted
before--peanuts. And peanuts proved so hardy and the market proved so ravenous
for that product that the farmers who survived the first two years reaped
profits that third year that enabled them to pay off all their debts. They
planted peanuts from then on and prospered greatly. Then you know what those
farmers did? They spent some of their new wealth to erect in the town square
a monument--to the boll weevil. If it hadn't been for the boll weevil, they
never would have discovered peanuts. They learned that even out of disaster
there can be great delight.
Paul appreciates the powerful impact his struggles have on the
world around him. And his focus in his circumstance is on the benefit others
derive from his situation. This is a mature man of faith seeing his place
in the world. His existence centers not around his getting what is due him,
but instead revolves around his wanting the world to experience the truth
that saves and transforms. If you are going through a hard place in life today,
do not discount the incredible power that the way in which you respond to
it can have on someone else in a similar circumstance. But don’t think
it will make everybody who sees you respond rightly.
Paul was attacked from many sides, including the church. “Some,
to be sure are preaching Christ out of selfish ambitions rather than from
pure motives seeking to cause me distress.” Paul is lost in a deep train
of thought, dismayed by the political discord in which he has been caught
up. There would always be those, he supposes, who would call themselves followers
of something and do their best to destroy it or twist it into something it
was never meant to be. Such preachers have been on the loose criticizing Paul,
saying false things about, stirring up trouble. He knows them to be egotistical,
self-protecting, and selfish people using God’s truth for their own ends.
But he doesn’t dwell there.
“What does it matter? The important thing is that Christ
is preached.” And here Paul’s mind relaxes into the familiar place
of comfort and security that Christ gives him. It wasn’t a conscious
effort to him to let the demand for retaliation fade away. When you are totally
sold out to the soon coming kingdom of God, what does it matter who gets the
credit? When you are that consumed by God’s heart for his world, you
can live like that. What matters is what ultimately happens in the lives of
those who hear – not what happens to you.
Paul rests easy here. He puts the pen down for a moment, looks
around his quarters wondering about the future, picturing the faces of his
friends. He sits under guard, facing death, his reputation being shredded,
and his heart is filled with joy and peace. This is a man of great ambition,
but what ambition! He sees something different than many of us do. He lives
with this great anticipation of the coming kingdom of God into the world.
And thus he sees that God is doing his thing through him in this hard place.
Things aren’t what I’d like them to be, but look at what He is doing!
This is the kind of ambition that eternity stands and salutes. This is the
kind of ambition heaven is made of.
We’ve seen such visionary ambition recently in the news.
Martin and Gracia Burnham were the missionaries in the Philippines that were
taken hostges by terrorist guerillas.
Some of Burnham's last words in the United States were also
the last words of Jesus recorded in the Gospel of John: “Follow me,"
Martin didn’t just say it but went. Nobody expected how far he would
be asked to go, but his ambition was to go as far as he was asked
Martin Burnham, 42, kept that attitude throughout the 376 days
he and Gracia were held captive., but they knew that their chances of survival
were slim. The guerillas had been on the run for months now and the Philippine
army was closing in. Just before an attempted military rescue raid on the
kidnappers’ camp, the two huddled together in a hammock under a makeshift
tent. Martin said to Gracia, 'The Bible says to serve the Lord with gladness.
Let's go out all the way. Let's serve him all the way with gladness.'"
The two then prayed in their hammock, recited Scripture verses
to each other, and sang. They laid down to rest. Then the rescue assault began
and bullets began to fly, puncturing Gracia's leg and Martin's chest. Martin
Burnham died there in the Philippine jungle; Gracia Burnham made it home safely
to their three children.
There is power in the ambition to pursue the kingdom of God.
Paul again picks up the pen to write: “I will continue
to rejoice for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the
Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.”
As the words flow forth, his heart is bubbling with the anticipation
of being released and able to throw himself headlong into ministry with his
friends again. There is relational turmoil swirling around here inside of
him and it comes out. He has a deep awareness of the life of God and its nearness
but an equally deep connection to this Body of people. Paul’s commitment
to them is so strong that he would endure these hardships for their sake,
if it would bring them a greater measure of joy and faith.
Shakespeare’s Hamlet voices a similar turmoil:
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
Hamlet wanted to die to escape the rot of his world. Paul is
torn between to good things: serving Christ in this world or living with him
in the next. What a vision of eternity he must have had. To stay or to go?
I can’t decide which one is better—I want both! What is it he sees?
Christ is so real to Paul; so personal, so close – that’s
just it! When the love of God through Jesus Christ has so invaded our beings,
consumed our ambitions, opened our eyes, and tenderized our hearts, we can
see the silver lining of the clouds of suffering and struggle. This is not,
however, some false optimism we pretend to have because we just want to hide
from the ugly realities of life, but it is hope. Hope borne out of the confidence
and certainty that “all things work together for good to those who love
Christ Jesus.” Four years earlier he had recounted that very line to
the new church right here in Rome. Many of those believers were now among
those Paul ministered to on a daily basis out of his apartment. They were
seeing the reality of that confidence still being borne out in their leader.
Paul saw something beyond the moment.
Could we today ask God for a vision of his kingdom and life?
Could we ask for a vision so clear and compelling that it would drive out
our need for recognition, credit, ease and comfort and instead give us great
power to embrace the joy of suffering as God uses it to move his world one
step closer to its final recreation.
Paul had that and he had long since sold out to it heart, mind,
and soul. He was anxious for the day when he could leave. He anticipated being
able to see his friends again. But the release he longs for is one that would
never come. This imprisonment would be his last and there would be no going
to see them. Indeed, one wonders if Paul doesn’t somehow in fact sense
that down deep as he calls them to “conduct yourselves in a manner worthy
of the gospel.” Here is a note of uncertainty. I may or may not get to
see you again. No matter what, don’t let me down! Don’t let my suffering
here be in vain. Paul knows that this church is facing struggles of their
own. Suffering is a real part of this broken world. We cannot evade it, but
instead, Paul says, we should do it well! And God will use it.
Paul was in jail facing death because he believed in God’s
kingdom. Today, we all face hard days simply because we are alive. God’s
assurance to us coming through Paul’s personal struggles is not that
suffering will be taken from us, not yet, but that instead God will give his
grace to enable us to bear it with joy, and even more significantly, that
he will use our hard times for his great glory and our great good.
A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months
to live. As she was getting her things in order, she contacted her pastor
and asked him to come to her house to discuss some of her final wishes.
She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral service,
what Scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried
in. She requested to be buried with her favorite Bible.
As the pastor prepared to leave, the woman suddenly remembered something else.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" said the pastor.
"This is important," the woman said. "I want
to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the woman, not knowing quite what
to say.
The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church
socials and potluck dinners, when the dishes of the main course were being
cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It
was my favorite part of the meal because I knew something better was coming—like
velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie.
"So, when people see me in that casket with a fork in my
hand and they ask, 'What's with the fork?' I want you to tell them: 'Keep
your fork. The best is yet to come!'"
Situations that are being faced right now in our body
Financial difficulty: debt, income, medical bills, financial needs
God will use it for good
Sickness or physical suffering
God will use it for good
A family has fallen apart; relational turmoil
God will use it for good
Made a wrong choice and now have regret
God will use it for good
Our identity as a church: what can we do with all of our
struggles and commitments? What do we really have to bring?
God will use it for good
Beware the scheming that we are so often tempted to engage in
to avoid struggle, suffering and injustice. God is in control of his world;
we are in good hands. Jesus grants us the privilege of suffering for him.
When He is our first desire, He can and will use our struggles for good. But
He also grants us the gift of joyful waiting in difficult places.
Let the Holy Spirit wash through you even now like a warm summer rain to cleanse away distrust, self-reliance or harbored sinfulness. In its place he gives freedom to rest secure in him, the ability to joyfully walk with him no matter the circumstances. He will use all things to his purposes and will use your suffering for your benefit and that of the world.