Homily on John 9:1-17

This homily was preached in the Morning Prayer service at the Trinity School for Ministry Chapel on Monday, Feburary 17th, 2014.

John 9:1-17 Homily

There's a certain phrase I've heard used a lot recently. It's mostly used when someone is grieving or going through hard times, and it's a phrase I have some trouble with. I know the good intentions behind it, but cannot support its assumptions. It's a short phrase and it goes like this: “Everything happens for a reason.”

This phrase is used mostly as a comfort to those who mourn or suffer. It's used as a reminder that God is in control and that he uses all things to serve his purpose. But, its message has an ugly implication underneath. It assumes that God is the cause of our suffering. Saying everything happens for a reason is saying that God intends suffering. This phrase comes about through an unwillingness to accept the meaninglessness of suffering. We ourselves, at Trinity, have a friend, a sister and mother to all of us at this school, who is currently in the midst of suffering.

Martha is suffering from leukemia and it's thrown this place into some shock. But, what amazes me, and what shows the true Gospel in the midst of all of this, is that even as we suffer together with her, we also share in her joy. I've seen evidence of many visits to her on social media, and they all have the same sentiment of love about them. Prayers are raised not only for healing, but for her ministry at the hospital where she is being treated. I've gained insight into how much Martha touches the lives of those around her. And what amazes me most is to see her still offering prayers and encouragement to others with selfless vigor.

I don't believe everything happens for a reason, because I don't want to blame God for our suffering. But I can say that everything that happens can serve a purpose. God might not have caused the brothers of Joseph to sell him into slavery, but he used that act to save those very brothers from famine. When “his disciples ask him, 'Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?' Jesus answered, 'It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

The sufferings of individuals are not easy for us to reconcile. But, our job isn't to give a reason for suffering. We are called to take part in suffering and share in the pain of those around us. Our calling is to point to suffering and agree, “yes, this is wrong. This is not good.” We can't justify evil with a “but God says...” or “but, you should...” Evil is bad. It's also real. And that's something we need to recognize, and not try to sweep it under the rug of phrases like “everything happens for a reason” to make us feel better about it. The only way you can combat suffering is by stepping into it and taking on the full force of it's wicked affliction.

The Philippian church could receive Paul's exhortation to rejoice because while he was in Philippi, they saw the joy he had in the midst of suffering. They knew that while he was in prison, he sang songs to God. They trusted him because of his suffering on their behalf. Paul's own example of this was in Jesus, and he wrote about it to the Philippians in his epistle, that “though he was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” Jesus didn't need to suffer, but he stepped down from his place in the heavenly courts to take part in our suffering. The love of God was shown in that he chose to lower himself to the utmost in order to be with us. The most incomprehensible truth of the Gospel is the fact that “the Word [who was with God and who was God] became flesh and dwelt among us.” This is what draws us closer to him: the fact that he came to us. “We love because he first loved us.” And not only this, but knowing that we could not bear our suffering, he took our suffering upon himself, lifted up on the Cross and dying, very God of very God, as punishment for our sins.

This is the God we serve and worship. Over the centuries we've cried out to him, begging for an answer as to why we suffer the way we do. He didn't give a reason to make our suffering more bearable. He didn't justify who he is with our suffering, or even command us to stop complaining. He chose instead to join us in our suffering. He came down, he walked among us, and he died on a Cross.

In our passage, he says, “We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When Jesus rose again from the dead, he accomplished the work of God. He also assured us that the light was still in the world and not defeated by the darkness. There is no night, because the light of the world is risen. We need to trust that the light is among us, and we can still do his work as long as we have the light.

Our community at this school has been attacked by darkness. Martha is still in the hospital and still going through treatments, but the darkness cannot overcome the light. The light defies understanding, because light in the darkness is joy in the midst of suffering. The light is continued encouragement and prayers for others in the midst of personal need. The light is the Gospel. It's the truth that we serve a God who did not reason away our suffering, but came down and joined us in the midst of it. He took the punishment for sin upon himself when it wasn't required of him. Others reason that this couldn't have happened. It was Judas on the Cross because no prophet could demean himself so much. Or Jesus was clearly just a man because the God of the universe wouldn't stoop so low as to make himself like us. But for those whom the light has cured of blindness, we see his suffering and we worship him. We worship him because he didn't tell us that our suffering is alright. He didn't tell us that it was all part of his plan. He didn't tell us to deal with it and stop complaining. He didn't do any of these things, but he came to us, he wrapped us in his love, and he says to us continually, “Abide in my love.”