Great Commission Churches

April 2004

 Dear Sisters,

With our beautiful spring weather beginning to raise hopes of flowers and blue skies, we also often feel refreshed with new faith and hope for our lives, and the lives of those we love and serve. Yet there are many who don't have this encouraging outlook in this season of their lives. There are various reasons to feel a lack of fresh hope. This month Carol Young shares her perspective regarding struggles of faith in the face of disappointment, especially for those who must suffer through them alone. How can a believer continue on in the Spirit's power when she may feel let down, perhaps even let down by God?

I pray Carol's loving words and insights from the story of Mary and Martha at their brother's grave, comfort and direct you into "all faith." After all, she is obeying the command to "comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God" (2 Corinthians 1:4).

Blessings,
Sandy Hopler

To the Struggling Faithful

by Carol Young, Clemson Community Church, Clemson, South Carolina

Struggles are all too common in the lives of believers. Some struggle for obvious reasons. Their own selfishness has ruined relationships; they coddle sin in their lives, or simply refuse to submit themselves to God. Other healthy, growing Christians struggle with everyday trials - not that they are trivial, but they are the stuff of life: temptations, conflict in relationships, and the struggle to persevere in doing right

Then there are faithful believers who encounter raging storms of difficulties. It may come as one prolonged agony with life-altering circumstances hanging in the balance, or it may be more like the experience of a farmer who withstands a flood to damage his crop, then fire to destroy it, then hail to strip away whatever attempts to survive. Some of the storms may be so private in nature that there are few with whom it is appropriate to share the burden. As much as we recommend openness with our struggles, there are times when, for the sake of the others involved, or to avoid participating in gossip or faction, the burden must be born in relative isolation. It is these dear believers that I call the "struggling faithful."

The struggling faithful are generally loved by God's people. They have born many a burden, and shared what they had in both worldly wealth and spiritual riches. Their maturity and steadfastness have supported others through their personal crises. They understand the concept of God disciplining and training His people through trials, and have solid track records of humility, obedience, and self-sacrifice.

But some storms rage so loudly and darkly that even the faithful lose sight of God. The sense of being lost or abandoned is genuine...genuine, and very confusing. It doesn't line up with what they have experienced through years of being in a relationship with God. The years have proved God to be loving, but why would a loving God send such pain? The years have proved God to be powerful, yet He's doing nothing to prevent or change the heart-breaking circumstances. The years have proved God to be a refuge in times of trouble, but His comfort and presence are nowhere to be found. The verses that have provided a firm foundation over the years now feel as solid as thin ice.

The suffering faithful search their hearts to repent of bitterness, unbelief, or unconfessed sin, like a miner searches for gold, hoping that some fault in their life is to blame for the unexplained hardship. Their thoughts could run in this vein: "If I'm to blame, then maybe I can do something to alleviate my suffering. But, if I find no unconfessed sin in myself, I'm left with some very frightening questions about God." Questions like, "Is God really intimately concerned with all my ways? Is God's power real? Is God true to His Word to never forsake me?"

Mary and Martha joined the ranks of the struggling faithful when their brother Lazarus died. When he had become seriously ill, the sisters had turned to Jesus. We aren't told what they expected from Jesus, but their experience with Jesus told them that He could heal Lazarus, and that He loved them and cared about them. When His reply to them was, "This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified by it," they had reason to believe that Lazarus would recover. Didn't their friend Jesus, who is powerful, wise, and loving, tell them that the sickness would not bring death?

Then Lazarus died. The Jewish community turned out to grieve with the sisters, but Jesus was nowhere to be found. When He arrived four days after the burial, Martha expressed faith tinged with confusion, "If you had been here, my brother would not have died. Even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you." Martha believes in Jesus' power, even as she grapples with the "why wasn't it here for me in my need?"

Minutes later, a grieving Mary throws herself on Jesus' feet with the same conflict of faith vs. reality. "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." She could have added, "But You weren't here and now he is dead." At this point, Jesus became deeply moved in spirit and wept with the mourners.

Why? What provoked Jesus' tears? Surely not regret over His delay, as He'd known His plan from the beginning. Surely not Lazarus' death - He knew that it was a temporary condition soon to be remedied. Surely not a lack of faith, for the sisters believed even in the face of evidence to undo their faith - a dead brother. Jesus wept out of compassion for the emotional pain of the suffering faithful who did not possess the capacity to comprehend the drama unfolding around them. This was not a pain lessened by faith, but instead, heightened by the conflict between belief and current experience. Jesus wept with the understanding that holding onto faith when it is not making sense is more painful in the short run than the easy out of "curse God and die."

The conclusion to the story is one of the greatest events recorded in history. Jesus did a completely new thing! Never before had one been raised from the dead. Imagine Mary and Martha's unbridled joy! Weeping turned to laughter. Imagine the astonishment of the Jews! Unbelief turned to belief for many that day. Who would have expected this outcome?

Dear faithful ones, remember in your struggles that Jesus weeps with His who weep. His love and power, even when not felt or seen, remain as always. He did not act as expected in Lazarus' story, because He was devising a new way to bring God glory. He acts in your story, too, to glorify God. That you share His desire for God's glory is your assurance that you are one of the faithful.