Life with Jesus
Part 3: When Life Gives You a Detour
I came across a story of a commercial airliner carrying a full schedule of passengers. As the passengers were being seated, the pilot and co-pilot walked from the back of the plane down the center aisle toward the cockpit. Both pilots wore dark sunglasses and appeared to be blind. The pilot used a white cane and the co-pilot was led by a guide dog. They bumped back and forth into the passengers before entering the cockpit. At first, the passengers thought the two men were playing a practical joke. But, as the plane moved away from the terminal narrowing missing several ground vehicles, the passengers became uneasy. As the plane accelerated, a few passengers began to panic. Others started to pray. While the plan neared the concrete barrier at the end of the runway, mass hysteria broke out and the passengers all screamed as with one voice. Suddenly, the plane lifted off the ground and became airborne. Meanwhile in the cockpit, the co-pilot breathed a sigh of relief and said to the pilot, “You know, one of these days the passengers won’t yell and we won’t know when to take off.”
straight paths
In geometry, we were taught that the most direct path between two points is a straight line. But, what if the straight line to our objective is fraught with unforeseen obstacles and hidden traps? What if like a rock climber there is no direct path toward our destination to the top? We may have no other choice but to wind our way circuitously around the mountain.
In life, the path that leads to wisdom typically winds us through the crevices of hard knocks and tough lessons. The route to strength generally takes a detour across the parkway of pain and suffering. The way to hope often struggles up the slope of disappointment and grief. Ultimately, all of these difficult, roundabout passages bring us to the right place.
The question is “Why?” Why does God insist on leading us along such convoluted pathways? Why won’t God lead us by way of the most direct route to get us where we need to be?
The answer to these questions can be summarized in four words: “for his name’s sake,” as in “…he guides me for his name’s sake.” In other words, God guides us along indirect paths so that God will receive the acclaim once victory is achieved. For example, a story is told of Jesus in John’s gospel, chapter 11. Jesus was staying about a two-day journey from the home of his good friend, Lazarus. Jesus received word that Lazarus had died. However, Jesus delayed his departure to the home of Lazarus by two days. When Jesus arrived, Lazarus had been dead at least a total of four days. At which time, Jesus raised Lazarus from the grave. Yet still, why did Jesus delay resurrecting his friend by two days? Why leave more time for Lazarus’ family to grieve?
The answer is tied to the Jewish understanding of death. Jews in Jesus’ day believed that when a person died that it was possible for a person to be resuscitated from the dead within a three day period. In days gone by, a bell would be tethered to the deceased’s toe. A sentry would remain near the grave for three days to listen if, by chance, the dead person would awaken, shake his foot, and thus ring the bell. Hence, came about the phrase “saved by the bell.”
For the Jews who witnessed Lazarus being raised from the dead a true miracle had occurred because four days had passed—a whole day past the time the Jews thought that Lazarus was really dead. In other words, Jesus waited a full two days before departing for Lazarus’ home because he wanted everyone to know that Lazarus was good and dead. So, that when Lazarus was called forth from the grave, God would receive the acclaim—because only God can raise people to life once they are truly dead. In words of King David, the miracle of Lazarus’ resurrection was done “for His name’s sake.”
My mother died on July 29, 2001. The morning before my dad made the difficult decision to remove her from life support, we attended morning worship. Dad and I prayed fervently for a miracle. Together, we asked God to cure my mother of the disease that ravaged her body. Our prayers weren’t answered in the fashion we wanted. Mom died at 5:26 later that afternoon.
Over the ensuing months, I became emotionally depressed. In January of 2002, I experienced an emotional breakdown. I had no recourse but to slow down at work and delegate many responsibilities to the members of my church. What I didn’t realize at the time is that God was using my brokenness in a powerful way. The church was preparing to build a $2.3 million facility. I felt it my responsibility to manage the project from the raising of funds to the design of the building to the task of securing the loan. Instead, the level of my grief forced me to back away and allow others to step up and handle these matters.
The Good News is that God raised the money needed to begin and complete the new building. Today, Village Chapel United Methodist Church boasts a weekly worship attendance of 500 persons. A new roller skate park has been completed for teens in the community to come and hang out in a Christian environment. Handicap accessible facilities allow the elderly in central Pickaway County to come and enjoy fellowship activities.
Now, please don’t conclude from this testimony that God allowed my mother to die just to garner acclaim for Himself. Death for my mom, like so many, was the ultimate healing. God revealed to me that today my mother enjoys a new body; a body absent of disease and a body that fully functions. Just as importantly, the completion of the new facility in Ashville is a demonstration of God’s power to do more than any of us can possibly see or imagine.
I’ll be honest with you though. I was ready to leave the ministry after mom died. Yet, a friend convinced me not to give in so easily.
I recognize that quitting sometimes seems like the only option. But, I also recognize from my own experience that too many of us throw in the towel too easily these days. We run into a few roadblocks in business. We stumble into the pit of failure in the classroom. Our spouse does something to disappoint us. Our neighbors say some things that make us angry. So, we react rashly. We throw up our hands and say, “I quit.” “I want nothing to do with you.” “I’m not going another step further.” We give up much too quickly.
Yet, before you back out, allow me to remind you of something. This Good Shepherd, this Jesus whom we follow didn’t pursue a direct path toward his blessing of new life. Before Jesus stepped out of the empty tomb on Easter Sunday, he had to first stumble up the excruciating path that led him to the cross on Good Friday. Before Jesus could embrace the resurrection and life, he had to become baptized through suffering and death.
And, just as Jesus carried his own cross to Calvary, he challenges you and me to likewise pick up our crosses and follow him. To follow him through the darkness of your most disparaging moments. To follow him through the confusion of perplexing circumstances. To follow him through the attacks of your adversaries. Yes, to follow Jesus believing that he is not a blind pilot sitting in the cockpit of your life. To follow Jesus believing that though you cannot see the destination, you can trust him to be your guide. To follow Jesus believing that in spite of the bleak moments you face there are far greater days that lie ahead. To follow Jesus knowing that though it may be Good Friday, Easter Sunday is still coming.