1 Kings 3:5-12, Psalm 119:129-136, Romans 8:26-34, Matthew 13:31-33,44-49A
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Groaning towards Compassion
The Episcopal Church of All Saints, Indianapolis
Proper 13, Year A, 7/31/05
Charles W. Allen
Romans 8:18-25 (Proper 11, Year A): I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Romans 8:26-34 (Proper 12, Year A): The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family. And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified. What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? Who will bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.
Romans 8:35-39 (Proper 13, Year A): Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
It’s a good guess that most of us showed up this morning because we believe that God is involved in our lives and in the day-to-day events that shape our lives. We grew up hearing that over and over, and maybe we’ve had those moments where we just knew God was right here with us. That’s what makes us put up with an institution as frustrating as the Church can be. After all, there are much more entertaining ways to spend a Sunday morning than this! We wouldn’t bother if we felt God wasn’t around to notice or if we felt God didn’t care.
But I’ve noticed that we Episcopalians seem a little reluctant to say much about that—about what God’s up to in our lives. That may be partly because our Church has such a strong appeal for introverts, like me, for example. It takes some of us a good while to warm up to talking about anything in a group, much less something as intimate as our dealings with God.
But maybe some of us are also reacting against other Christians who seem way too confident about their own ability to name God’s work in the world and in their lives. They might tell you, for example, that getting a competitive job was all God’s doing, without ever pausing to wonder what God was doing with the other applicants who needed that job as much as they did. And they never pause to wonder, either, if the hiring process was open and fair. Or they may be too quick to equate God’s work with their own political agenda. We hear a lot of complaints about the Christian Right doing just that, but let’s not forget that left-wingers can be just as confident of their own divine mandate. So in the face of all that self-serving certainty, lots of us have decided not to say much of anything about what God’s up to.
And some of us may just feel disillusioned, because we thought we knew what God was up to, and then things took a very different turn from what we were led to expect. You thought you were going to get that job; it looked like an opportunity sent from heaven itself. And then you hear that it went to somebody else. Or the doctor tells you or someone you love that the cancer’s been eradicated. You can’t thank God enough for that wonderful news after all those months of agony. And then six months later it’s come back, and there aren’t any treatments left. It’s awfully hard not to feel cheated, and just as hard not to feel resentful when somebody comes along with cheery stories about how good God’s been to them. And maybe hardest of all is finding any of your own inclination leftto turn to a God who seems to have turned away from you in your deepest need.
And yet here we are. And we’re here because even in our most skeptical, disillusioned moments we can’t seem to shake this hunch that just maybe God really is at work among us. Maybe we’re here because we’d like to find a more honest way to name what God’s up to. Maybe we’d like to be able to talk about how God’s present when things don’t go well.
That’s what St. Paul was trying to do with his readers in Rome.The people who gave us our lectionary split this up over three weeks, so today’s lesson only shows us part of what Paul’s getting at. But I’ll supply the rest. We don’t know exactly what was going on in Rome, but apparently things weren’t easy.Maybe there were outbreaks of persecution. Maybe it was their frustration at their own failure to be a community. But in Rome lives were definitely not going the way they’d hoped. Something made them feel like reciting the portion of Psalm 44 that Paul quotes: “For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered” (8:36).
So Paul lets them and us in on a secret: We’re not alone in our frustration, not alone in our suffering, not alone in feeling deserted. Any suffering we feel, any disappointment, connects us to the whole universe. “We know,” Paul says, “that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains,” longing for God’s common life to arrive not just as a promise but a reality (8:22). This isn’t just about us, not even about the whole human species. The entire universe shares with us a frustration with promises that never seem to arrive. And that’s how it’s always going to be once we’ve had a glimpse of how much better life could be.Our broken hearts join us to a broken-hearted world.
But Paul doesn’t stop there. It’s not just the creation that groans with us. It’s God too, God the Spirit, God, who’s closer to us than we are to ourselves. So again, Paul reminds us, we’re not alone; we’re not deserted. Our God is not a God up there directing things from a distance. Our God is right here with us, no stranger to any kind of grief, any kind of frustration we have to endure. To be sure, God’s plan from the very beginning is to bring us and all creation to a reconciled common life in Jesus Christ (8:29), but God draws us in that direction, not by forcing us, but by enduring our very worst and not running away—no matter how long it takes.
God does work in our lives, not just to make things go better, but to make things go deeper, not to rescue us from frustration and grief but to open us to a whole world of frustration and grief that God endures far more intimately than we ever will, endures it all so that everyone’s healing can begin, not just ours.There’s great joy in this, to be sure, but it’s a compassionate joy, a joy that’s never satisfied with leaving anyone on the outside.
There are no shortcuts here. Yes, Paul is the one who said that God makes all things work together for good (8:28), but that doesn’t mean that you or I get to turn our backs on all the pain and injustice in the world, on the way that things most certainly are not working together for good just yet. We can’t turn our backs on any of that, because God didn’t. We hear Paul say that a God who gives up his own Son for us will surely give us everything else (8:32). But don’t miss the point here. In everything God gives, we’re being turned into God’s image, drawn into the very shape of God’s own life, where life is found only in letting go of everything, even God’s own beloved. This God who suffers everything for us is making us into people who can join God in that same compassionate work. Whatever else God’s doing with us, we can count on God to be doing that much. And let’s face it—that’s at least a bit unnerving. If all we want out of life is to be cheerful all the time, sharing God’s life sounds like a mixed blessing at best.
So let’s not sing, “Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.” I don’t think Paul would have cared for that one. I don’t think God felt like singing it when Jesus was on the cross.God isn’t just there in the happy moments in our lives. God’s there just as much when things aren’t working out. God does rejoice with us when things go our way, but God will never be satisfied with a world where some people win at the expense of others’ losing. As long as there are some of us groaning and bewildered about the course our lives have taken, God shares our groaning and bewilderment with us.
We see God at work in our lives, not just when things go well for us, but even more as our capacity for compassion grows. And if you want to talk about what God’s doing with you, focus on that. Talk about the things that happened to bring you more compassion. Talk about the times your life was broken open to let the whole world’s pains and joys touch your own. Talk about those moments when you realized just how deep your connection with every other life runs. Talk about a God who shares God’s very own compassion with you.You really can’t go wrong if you focus on compassion.
In the meantime, there’s only one thing God’s ever guaranteed to us: No matter what happens, no matter how deep your grief runs, no matter how much you groan, no matter how fragile your growing compassion can make you feel, you’re surrounded by love, and it won’t be taken away. You’ll never be alone. And no matter how long it takes, God’s common life finally will arrive.And there’s a deep joy in knowing that.
“For I am convinced,” says Paul, “that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (8:38-39). What can we add to that but “Amen”?