©2001 Larry Huntsperger Peninsula Bible Fellowship
|
6/24/01 |
Personal Pain, Personal God |
Romans 8:18-30 |
6/24/01
Personal Pain, Personal God
Many of you who are here this morning
are here because
you have found within yourselves
a hunger
for your God
that
cannot be silenced,
a hunger that is driven by the hope
that the God your spirit has already glimpsed
might really be
as He has appeared to be-
full of kindness,
and compassion,
and a grace
that has no end,
and He might...just might even remember your name.
Do you remember Adam
in the Garden of Eden
in those few
terrifying hours
following his sin?
Let me read it for us.
GEN 3:8 ¶ They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in
the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from
the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.
GEN 3:9 Then the Lord God called to the man, and said to
him, "Where are you?"
GEN 3:10 He said, "I heard the sound of You in the
garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself."
That is us, my friends.
We have heard the voice of our God,
a voice that
seemed to be calling out to us.
It was a voice that
stirred within us
a hope -
a deep,
painful longing for our Father God,
and yet at the
same time it stirred within us a fear,
a terror
because we, just like Adam,
are
filled with the shame of our own sinfulness.
We peak out at Him from our hiding places,
wondering, hoping
that it really was our name we heard Him call,
and yet terrified at the thought
of
exposing ourselves to Him,
knowing that when He sees us as we really are,
the expression on
His face
may
suddenly turn to a scowl,
followed by His demand that we explain why
we have done what we have done.
Do you remember what Adam and Eve did
in their attempt
to hid from God
the reality
of their sinfulness?
GEN 3:7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and
they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made
themselves loin coverings.
That is our natural response to our God
when we hear Him
call our name,
and we look
at ourselves from our hiding place
and
see the evidences of our sin.
We try to put together
a little
something that will cover our nakedness,
a little
something that will dress us up,
a
little something that will hopefully distract the Lord from our unworthiness.
We call it religion -
our own little
garment of good deeds,
religious works,
devotional faithfulness,
acts of kindness or generosity
stitched together with twigs,
that we hope will
hide our shame.
It’s not much,
and it doesn’t
fit us at all well,
but it’s
the best we can do on our own.
And what we don’t realize at the time
is that what He
seeks
is not some
tense, awkward interview
between us and Him
in which we keep hoping that He won’t notice,
or that He won’t
say anything about our sin,
but what He seeks
is our discovery
that He has known all along,
He has
known about everything -
about the sin,
and about the
fears they have produced within us,
and about
that horrible sense of shame
that
caused us to hide from Him in the first place,
and the reason He has been calling our name from the very
beginning
is because under
His arm
He carries
with Him a robe just our size,
with His Name and our name sewn together in the lining,
a robe woven from
His own righteousness,
a robe
that, when we let Him slip it over our shoulders,
cleanses us from all our sin,
and removes our shame from us forever.
If you have heard His voice calling to you,
and if your
pilgrimage turns out to be anything like mine,
let me tell
you what to expect.
It is hard, at first, for us to hear His voice.
It comes like the few notes of a song
we thought we
might have heard,
but then
lose almost instantly.
But then, there it is again,
and then again,
until
eventually we accept the truth -
He is there,
our God really is
there.
And then, as we continue to listen,
the sound of His
voice moves closer,
and we come
to understand and accept
that He is not just there,
but He is here,
in this room with us.
And His presence in the room is a good thing.
But the room is full of people,
lots of other
people,
and for a
very long while
it seems as though
they are far more
interesting to Him than we ever could be.
Occasionally it seems as if He glances in our direction,
even making eye
contact with us briefly,
but then we
think perhaps we were mistaken,
and
we are content to just be there, in the same room with Him,
in His general vicinity.
It isn’t that we don’t feel our spirit drawn to Him,
or even that we
don’t love Him deeply.
It’s just that we are not at all sure
how He loves us.
At this point in the pilgrimage
we assume it is a
love-for-the-world type of thing,
a
Divine-love-for-humanity
which, of
course, includes us as well.
And that’s good.
That is very
good.
It helps us to reshape our concept
of what this God
of ours is really like.
His intentions toward us are good.
He is not out to
get us,
He loves
His creation,
He
may even like us,
and it helps to disarm our fears.
We will see His hand involved
in some of the
bigger events in our life,
and we will
find ourselves calling out to Him,
in a selective
sort of way,
for
guidance,
and
wisdom,
and assistance with those things
that we think are sufficiently significant
to justify His
involvement and intervention.
But if this pilgrimage continues as our God intends,
we will become
aware of Him
moving closer
and closer to us in the room.
And then, above all the chatter and the confusion
surrounding us,
we will hear
something that at first we find very hard to believe -
we will
hear Him calling our name -
only our name,
and no one
else’s.
And if we don’t bolt and run away,
if we just stand,
and keep
listening,
and
wait for His arrival,
He will continue moving our direction
until He is
standing right next to us,
and then we
will hear Him speaking our name clearly,
and
speaking it in a way that tells us
He
knows us more intimately
than we know ourselves.
He knows where all of the fears are hidden,
and why they’re
there,
and how to
lead us through to the healing and the freedom that only His grace
and His love can
bring into our life.
And when He finally has our full attention,
and when we know
He is speaking,
not to the
world,
or to
all those other people around us,
but that what He
is speaking
is between
us and Him alone,
He will tell us what we have longed to hear,
but never really
believed we would -
it is not just THE WORLD that He loves,
it is not even
THE CHURCH.
It is us, one tiny speck in the great expanse of time and
creation,
one tiny speck
who, even in our own estimation,
has no great
value in the eternal scheme of things,
and
yet to Him is worthy of His own death.
I have found it relatively easy
to see my God as
infinite,
and
all-powerful,
and
even kind and compassionate to those who come to Him.
But facing the staggering truth
of our God’s
intimate involvement
in the life
of each one of us
is
far more difficult for me to grasp.
To know my God as infinite
brings with it my
reasonable obligation
to worship
Him,
and
to honor Him,
and to submit to Him,
and to pay Him homage.
But to know my God as intimate,
to confront the
truth
that He is
not only consciously aware of every detail of my life
and
every aspect of my being,
but that He is also daily, personally weaving all things
that enter my life together for my greater good because He loves me at that
level-
this changes the
rules of life forever.
That means He knows what I feel,
He knows what I
fear,
He knows
where I hurt,
and all of those things matter to Him
because I matter
to Him.
I have seen some things happen recently in my life,
things that would
mean nothing to most of you even if I were to share them,
because you could not understand
what they meant to me,
but things that have deepened my awareness
of the personal
care with which my God
manages the details of my life.
Simply put, I have seen Him working all things that enter my
life together
not just for the
greater good of humanity,
or for what
is necessary to keep me in line,
but working them
together
in the way
that touches me where I hurt,
or
where I fear,
or where I desperately long to hear the
voice of His love,
speaking my name,
and telling
me He really does know
what I am feeling inside,
and, wonder of wonders,
He not only
knows, but He cares.
And He is doing exactly the same thing
in the lives of
each of His children.
And every time I become aware of what He is doing
and that He is
the one doing it,
I come away
overwhelmed with the value He places on each one of us.
There is no such thing as a distant God.
There is only our
blindness,
our
inability to see His constant presence with us,
His
absolute, intimate, love for us,
and His eyes and His heart fixed
eternally, directly upon us.
Some of you here this morning come with pain,
some with fear,
some with
anxiety about the future.
And right now it may seem to you
as if your God is
in the room,
but the
room is very full of people,
and
you are on the outer fringes of the crowd surrounding Him.
He knows you’re there,
but with all
those other people around,
surely He
is distracted,
surely He is focused elsewhere.
Why would your pain,
your fear,
your
anxiety be important enough for Him to notice,
or to care.
If any of that lines up
with what you’ve
been feeling recently,
please, let
me tell you the truth.
There is no crowd of people between you and your Lord.
You are not in the fifth layer back,
catching only
brief glimpses of the King through the crowd.
He is not searching His mind,
trying to recall
your name.
The truth is,
the room is empty
except for you and your King.
It is a warm, cozy, carpeted room,
with a fire
crackling in the fireplace,
and two
very comfortable chairs pulled up next to it.
You are in one of them,
He sits in the
other.
He knows exactly what’s going on inside you,
and He knows why.
And when He speaks to you
He calls you by
name,
and He
tells you that He not only knows what you are feeling,
but
He also knows why,
and He can and He will break the power of
those things that trouble you,
or cause your
fear,
or create
anxiety,
or
bind you,
or cause you to ache with loneliness,
or emptiness,
or feelings of despair.
JER 29:11 'For I know the plans that I have for you,'
declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future
and a hope.
I do not believe there is any truth
more difficult
for the human mind to grasp
than the
intimate/personal nature of the love of our God for us.
And I also do not believe
there is any
truth that is more critical to our growth than that truth.
As long as our God remains distant from us in our minds
the words He has
spoken to us
lose their
ability to bring strength and healing into our lives.
And one of the many great works of the Spirit of God within
us
is the way in
which He takes
the
universal truths about our God
and
makes them personal in our lives.
Though it may not seem like it
from what I have
said this morning,
we are
studying the 8th chapter of the book of Romans.
We are moving into a section of that 8th chapter
in which Paul
shares with us
several
strong words of encouragement
given to us in light of the fact
that our union with Jesus Christ
will at certain points
result in added
suffering coming into our lives.
We spent all of last week
looking at 4
causes of that added suffering.
#1. The first one is the suffering that always accompanies
our willingness
to allow God to
rebuild our characters
into
greater conformity with the image of Christ.
#2. And then there is the suffering that comes into our
lives
when our Lord allows us to see
a
little bit of our world through His eyes.
#3. There is also the suffering that comes as a direct
result
of our choosing
to live a moral life in an immoral world.
#4. And the final source of suffering we looked at
is the suffering
that comes
from our being under the direct attack of
Satan.
But I have invested so much of our time this morning
talking about the
intimate nature of God’s love for each of us
because these words of encouragement
given to us by Paul in this next section
of his letter
have power in our lives
only to the
degree that we hear them
as God’s
personal words to each of His children.
You see, churches do not suffer.
Groups do not
suffer.
Only real,
personal, individual people can suffer.
Pain is always personal.
And it is to us at that level
that these words
are spoken.
We are not going to make it very far into these 5 anchors of
encouragement
given to us by
Paul
in Romans
8:18-30,
but let me just prepare you a little
for what we are
going to see.
These 5 statements are designed to be taken as a whole.
Each one of them stands on its own,
but the real
power of what is being offered to us here
comes from
our grasping all 5 truths.
Nothing challenges our faith in our God more severely than
does the pain that enters our lives.
How could He love us and allow us to hurt?
But I will tell you something else as well,
something that
those of you who have experienced it will understand -
nothing has
the power to deepen
our
awareness of the love of our God for us
like going
through times suffering
and finding
Him with us,
and
in us,
and more than adequate for us in the midst
of that pain.
It is for this purpose
that Paul offers
us these five truths.
The first three tell us some things we very much need to
know about the future.
The last two
tell us some
things we very much need to know about the present.
And with all of that as background
we’ll look at these 5 truths next week.