I should be working on other things (this is Rob writing) but I find myself a little sad this morning and thought I might work it out on-line for the world to see, or at least for the handful of people that check this blog.
As Claudia wrote below, we were broken into Sunday morning, and I think this is part of the source of my sadness. I'm sad about the material losses, but saddened more by the fall and brokenness of this world. Forgive me for spiritualizing. I'm sad for my wife who sits uneasily in her own house, I'm sad for my children who don't have the capacity to make sense of this violation of their home.
However, what does a soon to be pastor have to say in a situation like this? I do think that this is the work of the evil one. Our pastor here said that what happened is an affront to God. He's right, and it would make sense that the devil would want to attack people who are trying to start a new church of Jesus Christ in an city that has long been under the sway of the world, the flesh, and the devil. I know this is a minor attack and I would like to think that it was minor and remains so because the people of God pray for us and our work.
There's another side to it as well. As a good Presbyterian, and someone who believes unapologetically in the sovereignty of God, I know that even as this was the work of the evil one, in and through a fallen broken person (the one who broke into our home), it was at the same time allowed by God. Again, I know in the grand scheme of all the brokenness of this world that what happened is a minor aspect of the fall: minor compared to my father's death and the brokenness of my past, but this is where I am now, right now. This is what happened this week and it shouldn't have. It's not the way the world is supposed to work! An affront to God indeed!
Yet, still allowed by him. Why?
I don't know.
Maybe I'll never know.
One of the best things I learned in seminary was in Psalms and Wisdom. The best way to read the wisdom books like Job, Ecclesiastics and Lamentations is to remember that
a full understanding of all of God's ways is not a prerequisite for following hard after Him.
I follow him because he loves me, he gives me life like nothing else has. My life is fuller, more meaningful, and makes more sense when I follow him and try to live faithful to all he has called me to.
So where is the comfort? I've been reading 2 Corinthians lately and Paul begins the letter by talking about the comfort that comes from God in Jesus. Comfort in suffering. I don't know about you but my idea of comfort doesn't necessarily sound like the type of comfort that God would give. I don't want to minimize the good worldly gifts that God gives people, (food, drink, sleep, sex, books, movies, the olympics), but I think there's more to the comfort of God. What comfort can the things above really give? Maybe for a moment, but they don't last. I think the comfort that God gives in suffering is his presence. In counseling, they talk about being a non-anxious presence for someone, and I think that that is part of it, but not all of it. God does more that just offer a non-anxious presence, he offers a perfectly loving presence. He offers the presence of truth and real holiness, not holiness that condemns, but holiness that draws us in and makes us holy. Truth that reminds us of his goodness and love despite, in, and through the brokenness of this world.
Real comfort that even we don't understand all of our suffering.