Luke 18:9-14
Presented October 28th, 2007, by J.D. Kline
The 22nd Sunday after Pentecost
Joyce Hollyday shares her personal faith experiences in a book entitled Turning Toward Home. One of the shaping experiences she writes about includes a time from her college years. Joyce was traveling by bus from her college town in Maine to her hometown—Hershey, Pennsylvania. Her much-loved grandfather had just died, and even though there were only two other passengers on the bus, it felt to Joyce as if everything was closing in upon her, so filled was she with her grief. Part way through the trip a large woman, wearing a red stocking cap over a shock of white hair, boarded the bus. Although the bus had one empty seat after another, the woman, arms filled with bags and possessions, made her way to the empty seat beside Joyce. Falling in a heap into the seat, the woman exclaimed, “Praise God, what a beautiful day!”
After a moment’s pause the woman looked deeply into Joyce’s eyes, and as she grabbed Joyce’s hand, the woman gently asked, “Why are you so sad?” Almost in spite of herself, Joyce began pouring out her heart, telling the unwanted stranger all about her grandfather. The woman listened intently until Joyce finished, then responded, “You must have loved him very much. How good of God to give you such a gift!” In response, Joyce found herself embracing a new level of gratitude—a gratitude that injected a new quality into her heart-felt grief.
The longer I’m in ministry and the more I find myself relating to persons walking through difficult times, the more I am convinced that gratitude has the power to bring a unique quality into the very midst of our struggles. I’m not talking about a kind of plastic or artificial veneer that denies the reality of pain while pretending that all is well, but rather about a deep and abiding quality of thanksgiving that brings a new level of trust to our living in the very midst of life’s most profound struggles, hurts, and pains. In the aftermath of my wife Janice’s accident and death, I occasionally encountered the well-meaning person who assured me that God must have needed another angel. Truth be told, there were moments when I would almost find myself wishing I could believe in that kind of arbitrary God who engineers accidents, critical illnesses, and other losses—at least then I would have known who to be angry at! But the God I encounter in the study of Scripture and in the journey of faith is not a God who manipulates our pain, but rather a God who stands with us in our times of deepest need, a God who takes us by the hand and walks with us through our times of grief and loss. Ours is a God who loves us through the storms of life every bit as much as during the times of calm; ours is a God whose love will not let us go.