11^th Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 17) “God Works for Good”

July 27, 2008

Text: Romans 8.26-39

Our adult Sunday School study of Jeremiah veered off last week into one of the deepest theological issues that Christians face—the providence of God. What does it mean to say—or is it really even right to say—that everything that happens in this life is part of God’s plan? We come right up against that question again in today’s lesson from Romans 8, and particularly in this verse: We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.

The rabbis tell the story of a father and his son who set out on a journey. They took a donkey to carry their packs, a torch to light their way, and a rooster, who was a friend of the donkey. The rooster sat on the donkey’s head throughout the journey.

The father was a firm believer in the idea that in everything God works for good. The son was a skeptic, and often looked for opportunities to prove to his father that it wasn’t so.

Shortly before the sun set, the two arrived in a small village and looked for lodging. They could not find a room, and so went outside the village and prepared to sleep on the ground. “I thought you said God works for good,” taunted the son. The father replied, “God has decided this is the best place for us to sleep tonight.”

The fixed their beds beneath a large tree, and tied the donkey to a smaller tree some distance away. Just as they about to light a torch, they heard a horrible noise. A lion had killed the donkey, and carried it off to eat. Quickly the two scampered up the tree to safety. “You still say that God works for good?” asked the son. “If the lion hadn’t eaten the donkey, he would have attacked us,” replied the father.

Moments later the rooster cried, and they scurried further up the tree. From their new vantage point, they could see a tiger carrying away the rooster in its teeth. Before the son could say a thing, the father commented, “The cry of the rooster has saved us.”

A few moments passed, and a wind came up which blew out the torch, the only comfort they had on a dark night. “It appears,” said the son, “that the goodness of God is working overtime tonight!” The father had no reply.

Sometimes Paul’s words are difficult to grasp. Can anyone who lives in the real world really think that in everything God works for good? Certainly the world is full of tragedies—little personal ones, like those in the story; greater ones, like those you read about in the newspaper every day. Maybe the son is right, and the father’s pious phrase is hopelessly foolish.

And I guess we must admit that sometimes the way Paul’s affirmation is interpreted leads us to question the kind of God who would allow unpleasant things to happen. A child is killed in a senseless accident, and some well-meaning Christian person tells the grieving parents that it was God’s will. Personal problems overwhelm us, and we pray for help, but it doesn’t seem to come. Where is God? These questions have troubled people of faith from the time of Job until today. They are not easy questions.

Perhaps we need to look precisely at what Paul says, at what it doesn’t mean as well as what it means. “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God.” Let’s first say this doesn’t mean that all things are good. Christianity admits that there is evil in the world, that there are things in life that are bad. Jesus himself did not deny suffering, but took it upon himself. He did not promise that his followers would not suffer, but he promised strength and comfort and final victory. So whatever Paul means, it is not that everything in life is good.

He also does not mean that God directly causes everything to happen. The question of why bad things happen to good people is a deep one, but we can say in a nutshell that God has given us human beings a measure of free will, and so in our freedom we sometimes make choices that lead to suffering for ourselves or others.

Furthermore, in our world, for reasons we cannot understand, God has allowed us to be mortal—to face sickness and death. We know that God does not use those things to punish us. Rather he stands with us in our troubles, comforts us in our distress, weeps with us in our sorrows. That is part of the meaning of Jesus, you see—that God loves us so much he was willing to become one of us to share our sorrows and griefs. So Paul is not saying here that everything that happens is the deliberate act of God.

What does he mean then? Let me suggest two things. First, he says that for those who love God, everything works for good. That means that God takes what happens to us—whether it is the result of our wrong choices, or someone else’s malice, or just one of those tragedies that defy explanation—God takes what happens to us, and uses it to bring about good.

Back to my story. The next morning, the father and son climbed down from the tree and went to the village for food. There they learned that a large band of outlaws had swept into town the previous night and robbed the entire village of all its possessions. The father turned to the son and said, “Now I understand. If we had been given a room in the village last night, we would have been robbed with the others. If the wind had now blown out our torch, and if the wild animals had not carried off our donkey and rooster, the bandits would have discovered us. In everything God works for good!”

Now we need to be careful with that, because it isn’t always obvious the next morning how God will use something. It may be months, or even years before we can look back at some experience and see how God has used it to mold us and shape us and bring about good for us. Perhaps we will never see it in this life. But we can be sure, nonetheless, that God does this. He “makes the most of every stumbling turn we take.”

There is one more point to make, and that is an often overlooked phrase in this verse: We know that all things work together for good for those who love God. Notice that this observation applies, not to everyone, but to those who love God. We might think again of the story, about the father whose trust was in God and whose mind was therefore always searching for how God was leading him—as opposed to the son who doubted everything and could not even open his eyes to the possibility of what God might be doing. It is that way with us. If we trust God, and believe his promises, then he opens our eyes to see his hand in all things. If we simply resent him for what has happened to us, if we close our minds and hearts to him when we face things we do not understand, then we are not likely ever to understand.

Perhaps we need to take to heart the prayer of Solomon in our first lesson this morning: a prayer that God would grand an understanding mind, one that can see that even in what appears evil—in the disappointments and frustrations and tragedies of our lives—God is working with us to bring about good. He has not promised that we will never have rough times; but he has promised that through these rough times he will be with us, and through them he will work for us, that we may finally know the goodness of the Lord.

Whatever God ordains is right;

He guides our joy and sadness.

He is our life and blessed light;

In him alone is gladness.

We see his face, the way of grace;

He holds us in his mighty arm

And keeps us safe from every harm.