Who Is In Control?

…there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.

As a believer in free will and a God who loves but does not coerce, I’ve always struggled with the phrase, God is in control. Don’t get me wrong, I got chills as a teenager when that popular 1990s CCM singer belted out the chorus with those exact words. (And actually, the rest of the song is just fine theologically.)

But when you start paying attention to the world, there are situations it appears in which God is certainly not in control. It remains to me to be seen whether or not God could control some of these things, but it’s clear from the witness of Christ in scripture that God is not in control of the things of abuse and violence and war and _____.

And yet, there’s also a real sense that humans are not in control, either. At least, there is no real “Central Command” in the world, whether we would hope to look to a political body or ecclesial structure to make things right. Of course, individual humans and some groups of humans hold significant power and the ability to change the course of life for many. We see it happen all the time. And for we who follow Christ, the goal is to do well within whatever power we have as spouses, parents, neighbors, co-workers, bosses, and so on.

But this sense that someone or something is in control of it all - this seems to be fodder for the things of philosophy or rigid understandings of a particular sovereignty of God that doesn’t exist either in scripture or in reality.

So…faith becomes a matter of significant choice and decision of what to believe. Faith in the heart and mind is difficult enough in this way. But the active fidelity - faithfulness to such a choice is a challenge all the more. This is part of what we see Job wrestling with throughout the book. These two chapters today are saturated with the tears and blood of a broken heart, previously used to a particular way of a privileged life, but now shattered by the experiences of suffering.

In the midst of it all, Job said something that really jumped out to me and resonates with my understanding of faith in Christ:

…there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.

That strategy will not win wars, but it will be faithful to Christ.

And perhaps that is part of what Jesus is demonstrating in our passage from Luke today. He is not gathering the powerful or the righteous to establish a new order of control that is like, “purer” or something. He is sitting at the table with tax collectors and sinners, people whose lives are messy and complicated and far from controlled. And when the religious authorities question it all, Jesus still does not offer a new system of control. He offers something new entirely: new wine that cannot be contained within the old skins of certainty and moral calculation.

If that feels unsafe to us, it’s because it is. At least, in the terms of the world. But for those who are done with the rat-race…for those who are so very much over the violent choices of powerful humans, be they presidents or pastors, there is a freedom in saying such Christlike things with Job,

…there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.

Luke 5:27-39

Afterward, Jesus went out and saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at a kiosk for collecting taxes. Jesus said to him, “Follow me.”

Levi got up, left everything behind, and followed him. Then Levi threw a great banquet for Jesus in his home. A large number of tax collectors and others sat down to eat with them. The Pharisees and their legal experts grumbled against his disciples. They said, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”

Jesus answered, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor, but sick people do. I didn’t come to call righteous people but sinners to change their hearts and lives.”

Some people said to Jesus, “The disciples of John fast often and pray frequently. The disciples of the Pharisees do the same, but your disciples are always eating and drinking.”

Jesus replied, “You can’t make the wedding guests fast while the groom is with them, can you? The days will come when the groom will be taken from them, and then they will fast.”

Then he told them a parable. “No one tears a patch from a new garment to patch an old garment. Otherwise, the new garment would be ruined, and the new patch wouldn’t match the old garment. Nobody pours new wine into old wineskins. If they did, the new wine would burst the wineskins, the wine would spill, and the wineskins would be ruined. Instead, new wine must be put into new wineskins. No one who drinks a well-aged wine wants new wine, but says, ‘The well-aged wine is better.’”

Job 16-17

Then Job answered:

I’ve heard many things like these.
All of you are sorry comforters.
Will windy talk ever cease;
what bothers you that you must argue?
In your situation I could speak like you;
I could put words together to oppose you,
shake my head over you.
I could heap up words, strengthen you with my speech;
my trembling lips would be held in check.
If I speak, my pain is not eased;
if I hold back, what have I lost?

Now God has surely worn me out.
You have destroyed my entire group,
seized me, which became grounds for an accusation.
My leanness rises to bear witness against me.
His anger tears me and afflicts me;
he slashes at me with his teeth.
My enemy pierces me with his eyes.
They open their mouths at me
and strike my cheek in a taunt;
they gang up on me.
God delivers me to a criminal
and forces me into the hands of the wicked.
I was at rest, but he shattered me,
seized me by the back of my neck,
dashed me into pieces;
he raised me up for his target.
His archers surround me;
he cuts my kidneys open without pity and doesn’t care,
pours my gall on the ground,
bursts me open over and over,
runs against me like a strong man.
I’ve sewed rough cloth over my skin
and buried my dignity in the dust.
My face is red from crying,
and dark gloom hangs on my eyelids.
But there is no violence in my hands,
and my prayer is pure.

Earth, don’t cover my blood;
let my outcry never cease.
Surely now my witness stands in heaven;
my advocate is on high;
my go-between, my friend.
While my eyes drip tears to God,
let him plead with God for a human being,
like a person pleads for a friend.
A number of years will surely pass,
and then I’ll walk a path that I won’t return.

My spirit is broken,
my days extinguished,
the grave, mine.
Surely mockers are with me,
and my eye looks on their rebellion.
Take my guarantee.
Who else is willing to make an agreement?
You’ve closed their mind to insight;
therefore, you won’t be exalted.
He denounces his friends for gain,
and his children’s eyes fail.
He makes me a popular proverb;
I’m like spit in people’s faces.
My eye is weak from grief;
my limbs like a shadow—all of them.
Those who do the right thing are amazed at this;
the guiltless become troubled about the godless.
The innocent clings to his way;
the one whose hands are clean grows stronger.
But you can bring all of them again,
and I won’t find a wise one among you.
My days have passed;
my goals are destroyed, my heart’s desires.
They turn night into day;
light is near because of the darkness.
If I hope for the underworld as my dwelling,
lay out my bed in darkness,
I’ve called corruption “my father,”
the worm, “my mother and sister.”
Where then is my hope?
My hope—who can see it?
Will they go down with me to the underworld;
will we descend together to the dust?

Prayer

God,

Thank you for the sunshine and rising temperatures of this day. Even as the white snow melts, I still love it. I love knowing it’s final resting place will be to slowly seep into the ground to water the forthcoming growth of Spring.

You know, God, maybe someday someone will actually knock down my door and drag me to a tumultuous trial, be it a local over-litigated effort, government agents, or some foreign power. Maybe.

In the meantime, I refuse to participate or condone the violence that would bring it. Help me to say with Job, I have done no violence and my heart is pure. Help me to live like Christ, who exemplified the same. Blessed are the pure in heart, indeed.

By your Spirit & in Christ,
Amen.