Friday, September 21, 2012

Unthinkable Questions. Mark 9:30-37

This week's Gospel lesson has to do with yet another instance of the disciples not getting something that Jesus has said. Actually, if one reads Mark closely, the author seems to go to great lengths to show just how thick-headed the disciples could be at times. Jesus has told them, yet again, of his coming death and how such an act relates to what it means to be a suffering servant for the salvation of the world. OK, admit it, you don't like the sound of that anymore than did the disciples, right? Oh, we have the benefit of hindsight, so we can applaud the veracity of what Jesus has said and we are truly thankful for the sacrifice that he made for the whole world. But how many of us can admit that he or she does not fully understand that whole concept? After all, we are Christian people, so we are supposed to know the answers, right? Who told us that? Who told us that we should know the intricacies of our faith, that we should have figured out the mind of God by now? The disciples were afraid to allow their ignorance to show, so, instead of asking Jesus what all of the talk about suffering and death really meant, they diverted attention from what was really bothering them and began to posture for choice seats at the table. This week's scripture lesson came at a difficult time for me. A man in our chapel congregation died suddenly, leaving behind his wife and two young children. There was no warning, this man in his mid-forties just died in his sleep. As I presided at his funeral in the chapel, I could not avoid the gazes of those dear children, looking so innocent and somewhat puzzled at all that was transpiring around them. They knew their father had died, for he died at home. But this all seemed so incongruous to them, this service with adults speaking and everyone having somber faces. I dread the question that their mother will be asked on many occasions in the future from these children: why did Daddy have to die?" How does one respond but to say, "I don't know?" What will these children come to think about God? Is God the being who kills loving parents? What difference does believing in God make, if people we love are taken from us so young? The questions are as old as the world, and the answers do not come easily. We think we know the answers, and we argue about God's will, and some dismiss the existence of God in the face of such tragedies. We arrive at answers that work for us, answers that we can live with. Already, rumors are circulating within the rural community where this man lived as to what was the cause of his death. Never mind that the autopsy results won't be known for weeks, they are filling the void with chatter, and not innocent chatter, but their own answers that have the potential to hurt those who loved this man. And yet, some hope against hope that no one will sense the uncertainly that lies within their hearts and minds. For those who love gossip, no answer will suffice. But for those who have the courage to venture into the realm of uncertainty and fear, they can begin to gain some wisdom by asking God directly: why did this young father die and leave his wife and children so heartbroken? If we can muster the courage to ask such a question, we must also try to lay the foundation for the patience it will require to await an answer. We may have to wait an entire lifetime, and still, we may not have what we consider a satisfactory answer. At the funeral, several friends of the man spoke, talking about what he must be doing now in heaven, and how grand it is that he is reunited with lost loved ones. Such hopeful talk made it bearable and gave those sweet kids something to hold on to. But, the more difficult question will not go away, and they will need people of faith who will not shout down their questions which will not go away. They will need folks who share in their unknowing and who are not afraid to admit it. For it is only such friends as that who can stand with them in their searching and questioning and who can communicate something of the love of a God whose heart breaks along with theirs. It's not an answer, but it is a sign that God never forgets about any of God's loved ones. We can only come to that assurance by finding the strength to ask God the questions we have not dared ask. You know, those unthinkable questions.