Based on Job 38:1-11 and 2 Corinthians 6: 1-13 – Preached at Two Rock and Tomales Presbyterian Churches, June 23, 2024
I have a confession to make.
Pastors aren’t supposed to have favorite people in their congregations,
but we’re human beings (newsflash), so we do.
One of my favorites from the first church I served is a man named Frank.
Frank and I couldn’t be more different in a lot of ways.
We vote differently in national politics, our personal theologies don’t always agree, and
we wouldn’t spend any time together if we were on a mutual vacation
because we like completely different pastimes,
and yet, I adore the man.
The admiration is all the sweeter because the reason I like him
has nothing to do with the ‘worldly’ factors I just listed …
politics, theology, or leisure time.
The reason I like him, and I think he likes me,
is because over the course of more than five years,
we got to see each other’s hearts for God and the Church.
The connection is ultimately based on much deeper matters
then the relatively trivial matters that tend to divide us all.
Anyway, as is often the case between friends,
Frank and I have a running joke.
It developed over the years based on a pattern that got set up one Sunday morning.
As he was greeting me after worship he would say,
“Lisa, you really need to preach more fire and brimstone sermons.”
I think the first time he said it, I was taken aback.
Do any of you want to hear a fire and brimstone message?
Well, I can be pretty slow to respond at times and so it probably took a while,
but eventually I came up with what I thought was a brilliant response:
“When hell freezes over, Frank.”
I am of the mind that Love always wins over Fear
and so fire and brimstone just doesn’t work for me.
I’m sure each of you could think of a time when a fiery approach worked for you
and so I’m sure you could correct me,
but nine times out of ten, I think holding a carrot out to someone works far better
than holding a stick over them.
At least that is my experience.
All of this makes today’s message a little difficult to preach,
since I’m touching on the story of Job.
As I mentioned last week, I always pick my sermon focus
based on a prescribed liturgical calendar that gives me only four options.
An OT/Hebrew passage, a Psalm, a Gospel message,
and a Scripture reading from the voluminous writings of the Apostle Paul.
Today I picked the OT passage from Job and the Pauline passage from 2 Corinthians.
The reason I picked Job is because it has to be one of the more challenging books
in the entire Bible, at least in my opinion.
As a reminder, the book of Job is the story of a righteous man with a good life
who has everything snatched away from him almost as soon as we’re introduced to him.
What follows is an agonizingly long conversation between Job,
three of his friends, and God Almighty.
Now if you aren’t familiar with it, or have forgotten,
Job’s friends are the worst kind of friends you could have.
You could say, “With friends like these, who needs enemies?”
The reason I say this is because they have minimal compassion for his hard circumstances
(they even blame him for his situation initially)
and then they spend a lot of effort trying to convince him to ‘turn on God’.
Ya know, if God allowed all these calamities to happen to you, Job,
then clearly, He is not to be trusted.
Job is tenacious in his faith, and he doesn’t turn on God.
Until right before the passage we read.
Even then I wouldn’t say that Job turns, he more grows weary and confused.
I mean when your earthly friends show up as enemies
and God doesn’t seem to be responding to your pain,
what’s a man to do?
Listen again to God’s response to Job’s questions of why this has happened:
Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:
2“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?
3Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me.
4“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding.
5Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it?
6On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone
7when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?
8“Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb? —
9when I made the clouds its garment, and thick darkness its swaddling band,
10and prescribed bounds for it, and set bars and doors,
11and said, ‘Thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stopped’?
With a response like this, would you keep trusting God?
How would you respond?
God’s diatribe continues for a few chapters.
He really reads Job the riot act.
And do you know how Job responds,
when he’s finally given the opportunity to speak?
“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
… I have uttered what I did not understand.” (Job 42:2-3)
It reminds me of a Henri Nouwen quote that is quite truthful and telling:
“Theological formation is the gradual and painful discovery of God’s incomprehensibility.
You can be competent in many things, but you cannot be competent in God.”
The second scripture passage that we read came from 2 Corinthians.
In it we hear a word seeking reconciliation.
The writer, the Apostle Paul, is speaking to the community in Corinth
where there has been some in-fighting.
I can’t imagine that sort of thing happening amongst a group of people, can you?
Well, apparently it happens somewhere, or did.
And so, Paul says the following:
Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don’t squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. God reminds us,
“I heard your call in the nick of time; The day you needed me, I was there to help.”
Well, now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped.
Don’t put it off; don’t frustrate God’s work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we’re doing.
Our work as God’s servants gets validated – or not – in the details.
People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly … in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we’re beaten up, killed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating;
with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love;
when we’re telling the truth, and when God’s showing his power, when we’re doing our best setting things right,
when we’re praised and when we’re blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God;
terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy;
living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.
Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life.
We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way.
I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection.
Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!”
I don’t know about you, but it sounds like a good invitation to me …
Going back to the beginning of this message,
I proposed that the carrot works far better than the stick.
Like I said earlier, I’m sure you can come up with times where that is not true,
but more often than not, in my personal experience, carrots are better.
Especially when in conflict.
A carrot is an attractive thing.
Even if you dislike them, or are allergic to them, they are one of the sweetest vegetables.
And generally speaking, vegetables are a good thing.
On the other hand, sticks are generally seen as weapons.
They can be used to build a fire or a structure and so they aren’t intrinsically bad.
But if you and I were in a battle of some kind
and I picked something up in my hand,
wouldn’t you prefer see a carrot then a stick?
If nothing else, it might make you laugh.
And laughter is almost always good.
The image on the front cover of your bulletin is a photo I took one day
while running errands.
The bottom of that sign which reads “We adore you …”
says something like, “… so please don’t park here …
we really don’t want to tow you out of our parking space.”
Rather than write some imposing, confrontative message,
a carrot is being held out.
If you pulled into the parking spot and read the full sign,
you might be irritated to have to move,
but you’d be apt to smile at the same time.
You might have a little compassion for the person who’s spot it is.
Because probably they need that spot,
or have paid for that spot as part of their rental property,
and maybe, just maybe they have a right to it.
We all have a place in this world.
With God’s grace, we can learn to respect what each of us brings to the table.
Because in Jesus’ world,
every last one of us has a place here.
We are all needed.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
