Lent 3

Why do bad things happen to good people? It’s a question all of us ask from time to time. Some of Jesus’ listeners asked him the same question. They brought up a recent news story about some Galileans who had been cruelly offered as human sacrifices by Pilate. Were they greater sinners than others in Galilee that they should suffer so? A tower had fallen in Siloam and crushed eighteen bystanders. Was it because of their sin?

Jesus had already dealt with this question when confronted with a man who had been blind from birth. His disciples wanted to know whether it was his parents’ sin or his own that was responsible for his condition. Jesus consistently condemned the notion that human tragedy is punishment for sin. In the Sermon on the Mount, he established this sacred principle once and for all: “[God] makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the just and the unjust.” (Mt. 5:45)

In other words, God does not reward us according to our virtues or punish us for our transgressions. At least not in this world. There are some things in this world that just happen as a consequence of the physical laws which govern the universe. And sometimes they happen to the best of people. Church buses loaded with Christian young people get swept into rain swollen rivers. Christian old folks die with cancer. Entire Christian families have been wiped out by drunk drivers behind the wheel of high-powered automobiles. Some things just happen. Somebody was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some things in life we cannot control.

But we want to control them. This is what superstition is all about.  We carry around a rabbit’s foot or consult a horoscope in order to control our fate.

There was the man who was panic-stricken on his first flight. The pilot came back personally to calm him down. “Are you a religious man?” the pilot asked. “Yes,” the man replied. “Don’t you believe that when your time is up, you’ll go and not until then?” the pilot asked. “Yes,” the man replied. “Then what are you nervous about?” the pilot asked. The man said grimly, “I’m afraid your time will come before mine.”

Such reasoning gets very complicated sometimes. When we attempt to control our fate by the use of a charm, this is superstition. Most superstitions are harmless. Sometimes, if they give us confidence, they can even be helpful. If we use them as a substitute for helping ourselves or trusting God, however, they can be destructive. Nevertheless, we need to understand the difference between superstition and authentic Christian faith.

If I carry a rabbit’s foot with me, I’m trying to control my luck. I may do this as a substitute for hard work. Students at Roanoke College in Salem, Virginia consider the post next to the administration building to be lucky, so they give it a swift kick before each exam. At Brown University, the statue of John Jay is the lucky totem, so students routinely rub the statue’s nose before tests. St. Joseph of Cupertino is believed by Roman Catholic students to be the patron saint of stupid people, so students at Iona College of New Rochelle, New York pray to St. Joseph on exam day and write his initials at the bottom of their test pages.

That is superstition – trying to control the uncontrollable. Authentic Christian faith is not an attempt to use God, but a willingness to surrender control of our lives to God. 

Analyze your prayers sometime. Many of us use our prayers to manipulate God. We want Him to adjust the weather to our liking. Or to change our boss’ attitude or to help us win the lottery. We seek to advise God as to what we think is best for us. Rather than trusting that He in His omnipotence and omniscience knows best, we seek to guide Him, to control Him, to use Him.

Do you believe that God knows what’s best for your life? Do you believe that God’s will is for your best good? Or do you secretly try to manipulate God to work things out the way you see best? Do you have the spiritual maturity to truly pray, “Not my will, but yours be done”?

Jesus did not want his interrogators to get bogged down with this question about why bad things happen. He wanted them to understand their responsibility for making good things happen. He tried to get them to see that we are not to concern ourselves with those things in life which we cannot control.  Instead, we need to concern ourselves with those things we can control. Some people sit around and speak sadly about what life has done to them. Jesus says to them and to us that on the day of Judgement we will not be asked what life has done to us but what we have done with life!

Jesus used the parable of the fig tree and said that if it does not bear fruit, cut it down. He was saying that we are responsible for bearing fruit, for making a difference, for taking responsibility for that part of life that we can control. We are not to be superstitious, trying to win the favor of fate. We are to be soldiers of the cross battering down the gates of hell.

H.G. Wells once wrote an essay on that tribe of people he called the “goodness sakers.” These are the folk who see something that needs doing, or see some social evil, or detect some moral shortcoming, and they stand and wring their hands, and say, “For goodness sakes, why doesn’t someone do something about this?”

It is we who have been called to do something. We cannot answer the question why there should be hunger in the world, but we can do our part to see that some of the hungry are fed. We can’t answer the question why sometimes healthy adults with families are struck down in midlife, but we can be there to bring comfort and emotional support to those families.

A young university student visited Wolfgang von Goethe, the noted author, and requested an autograph and a few wise words. Goethe thought a moment and then wrote: “Let each person sweep in front of his own door, and then the whole world will be clean.” Each person doing his best, linked to other people exerting their best efforts, can accomplish great things. That is our calling. We cannot solve all the world’s problems, but we must do what we can.

During the Nazi occupation of Paris, a storm trooper stepped into a subway car and tripped headlong over the umbrella of a little old lady sitting next to the door. After picking himself up, the bruised Nazi launched into a tirade of verbal abuse, then bolted from the car at the next station. When he was gone, the passengers burst into spontaneous applause for the little old woman. “I know it isn’t much,” she said, graciously accepting the compliments, “but he’s the sixth one I brought down today.”

We all have our part to play. Rather than praying for peace in the world, we need to pray that God would make us peacemakers. Rather than asking God for special favors, we need to pray that He shows us someone who needs our assistance.

Is your faith mere superstition or is it authentic Christian faith? Do you attempt to use God or are you willing to be used by Him?

Are you like James Bailey, onetime Superintendent of the Fort Worth, Texas, public schools? Meeting one day with a citywide Parent Teachers Association, Bailey sought to communicate openness and accessibility. He told the audience he would be pleased to speak with them any hour of the day or night. “In fact,” he said, “here’s the telephone number…” and proceeded to recite it. There was a sudden outcry from Assistant Superintendent Joe Ross. “Hey!” Ross shouted, “That’s my number you’re giving out!”

Bailey was having some fun with his assistant superintendent, but isn’t it true that if God needs something done, we really hope that He will call somebody else’s number? We hope He calls anyone but us. And yet we are in this together.

Is your religion authentic Christian faith or mere superstition? Are you using God? Or are you letting God use you?