God’s Will, You Say?

April 7, 2024 - Matt 6: 9-1 0; Ephesians 1: 3-10

God’s will, you say?  I still remember the conversation, over four years ago.  Carol and I were in Lake Junaluska, North Carolina, attending an event called NOAC, the Church of the Brethren National Older Adult Conference.  We had just come through the buffet line for the evening meal, and spotted two acquaintances from back east sitting at one of the tables.  They invited us to join them, and so we did.  Both of our table companions were retired pastors, who will remain anonymous, but whom I will call Ron and Frank.

          Our table conversation began with the usual small talk, catching up on what was happening in our lives, then moved on to a weightier matter.  Ron already knew that we had recently lost our grandson Tyler to melanoma.  A couple of years earlier, Ron had undergone his own loss, the death of his wife to another fatal form of cancer.  And in an effort to help us, he shared the way he had coped with his own loss and grief.  He had been sure that God would cure his wife, but it was not to be.  “For awhile I was angry with God,” he said, “because I know God had the power to save her.  But I finally came to accept her death as God’s will.”

          God’s will?  Well, it wasn’t the time to argue with Ron.  We all wrestle with life’s tragedies in our own way, seeking to understand what befalls us.  Ron had made peace with his loss, and I needed to honor that.  I also know there are many others who share Ron’s perspective.  When our world is falling apart, when loss overwhelms us, there is a kind of comfort and stability in believing that God is still in control, that everything that happens is part of a divine plan, even if we don’t understand it.  I get that.

          But this theology just doesn’t work for me.  Can it really be God’s will for a thriving 14-year old to develop melanoma, suffer the ravaging effects of the disease and its treatment, and eventually succumb to death?  Or when a natural disaster strikes like a hurricane or earthquake, destroying life and property, and an insurance company calls it an “act of God,” did God really will that destruction to happen?  Or when six million Jews perished in the Holocaust, who among us believes that this happened with God’s permission, as part of some divine plan?

           No, God’s intent for our lives is never harm or evil.  We need a different way of understanding the will of God.  In the Bible, God’s sovereignty does not mean that everything that occurs does so at God’s behest or with God’s sanction.  Rather, it means that God is powerfully at work in the midst of all that life throws at us to seek our good and the good of all creation.  The will of God is exhibited in God’s purposeful activity to heal, to redeem, to build up, to reconcile.

          The author of Ephesians provides an example of God’s will in action in the scripture read this morning.  According to Ephesians, God’s will is revealed in the way all things are being gathered up or brought together in Christ.  That may sound a bit vague or abstract, but a little later the author makes his point more concrete.  In the ancient world, the cultural divide between Jews and Gentiles was marked by mutual hostility.  Gentiles harbored anti-Semitic attitudes toward Jews, and Jews viewed Gentiles as godless and immoral.  But lo and behold, that dividing wall of hostility has been broken down by God’s grace, and the two groups have become one in the church, the body of Christ.  That’s what God’s will looks like.

          Another text that helps us think biblically about the will of God is the hymn that we will sing at the end of worship this morning, “My Life Flows On.”  The hymn names the lamentations, tumult, and strife that befall us in life.  It acknowledges those times when darkness gathers round, when joys and comforts die.  But whatever comes our way, we know that “Love is Lord of heaven and earth,” and that keeps us singing.  According to this hymn, the sovereignty of God is the sovereignty of Love, Love that always wills the good and seeks our good.

          But that raises another question:  If Love is Lord of heaven and earth, why do we still encounter so much trauma and tragedy?  Each Sunday at Highland Avenue, we share with God and one another our joys and concerns.  And it is definitely a mix.  On any given Sunday, one of us may be sharing the glad news of healing, of life achievements, of a forthcoming marriage, or the birth of a baby.  But another of us may be sharing the difficult news of a life-threatening disease, of violence in our world, or the loss of a loved one.  So if Love is Lord of heaven and earth, why isn’t the news always good?  Why does the bad stuff keep happening?

          That is a question with which believers are still wrestling.  And it is a question for which there is no easy answer.  But I have found help in approaching the question from a very familiar scripture, the Lord’s Prayer, from which Josh read this morning.  Hear the words again: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven.  And now ponder the question: Why do we need to pray such a prayer?  We pray for God’s kingdom to come, because God’s sovereignty is not yet a done deal in our world.  We pray for God’s will to be done, because God’s will and purposes are not yet fully accomplished in our lives.  To put it another way, God’s reign of love where God’s will is fulfilled is still a work in progress.  God’s reign of love where God’s will is fulfilled is still a work in progress.

          If this is the case, it provides a new perspective on the suffering and loss that we experience in life.  It is not that God wills and inflicts such suffering.  It is not that God is nowhere to be found.  It is not that God is unaware of what we are going through.  It is not that God isn’t paying attention.  It is not that God listens to some prayers but not to others.  No, God is always listening, and God is always doing all that God can, to heal our wounded lives and transform our wounded world.  As the very ground of our being, God is powerfully at work in our midst and in and through us to make life whole.

          But it is a work in progress.  We are not yet fully there.  Sometimes there is good news to celebrate: Bodies are healed, disasters are averted, and violent conflicts are resolved.  At other times, however, what is broken proves resistant to all that God is doing.  A disease resists treatment; violence keeps erupting; an angry climate fuels stronger storms.  And so we keep praying, “your kingdom come, your will be done.”

          It is not a coincidence that I chose to preach on this topic on this Sunday.  It was seven years ago today that our grandson Tyler lost his battle with melanoma.  Not because it was God’s will, but because his body was not able to tolerate the immunotherapy that would have saved him.  As Carol and I remember our family’s loss afresh this day, it seemed the right time to testify to the faith with which we hold those memories.  Put simply, it is a faith that God was right there in the thick of the battle to save Tyler, and to uphold us as well:

* God was there in the care Tyler received from doctors and other medical staff who attended him,

* God was there in the work of the scientists who continue to labor diligently in the field of cancer research,

* God was there in the amazing courage with which Tyler was able to face the bad hand that life had dealt him,

* God was there in the unwavering support of the circle of Tyler’s high school friends who called themselves “the squad,”

* God was there in the love and care that our family received from friends near and far, and from this congregation,

* And at the end, God was there grieving with us, and with all those who gathered to remember Tyler at his memorial service.

          That was the will of a loving God at work. That’s what the reign of God is all about.  And with that faith we continue to pray that what is still a work in progress will one day be fully realized, that every life and all of life will be made whole.

          May it be so.  Amen.

~Rick Gardner

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