Mark 4:26-29

A simple parable. The kingdom of God grows like a seed, without us being able to understand how. And maybe that’s because we don’t understand the One behind the kingdom, the Creator of life itself. See, I really want to understand God. I want to be able to … well, I don’t mean to manipulate God, but … Like, when I get in my car and turn the key, it starts. When I press the keys of my computer, words appear. When I flip the wall switch, the light comes on.

Now I know it doesn’t always work that way, but it does some of the time. And I want to understand God just like I understand my car or the computer or the electricity (none of which I understand).

Let me offer some stories.

# # #

You ask me if God is all-powerful? Of course! How could it be otherwise? God created this vast universe. The Creator must be all-powerful to do that. Only an all-powerful Being could create something this grand.

Let me share a personal experience. Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. It started from a mole on my hip, but by the time I recognized a problem, it had already spread into my lymph system.

The doctor showed me the statistics from what I had. He had a chart. Two years after diagnosis, 80% of those patients were dead. Only 20% survived. That didn’t seem like very good odds to me.

He had an experimental drug from one of the pharmaceuticals. He’d only been using it for six months, but it seemed to be working. It wasn’t chemo. Was I interested?

It didn’t take me long to decide. Anything that would increase my odds seemed like a good idea. My mother had done chemo, and it made her very sick. If this didn’t work, we could go to chemo, but I really didn’t want to go through what she had suffered.

You’ve probably guessed that it worked. But it wasn’t just the shots. Everyone in church prayed for me. They prayed at home, and they prayed in church. God heard their prayers and made the drug work. Yes, God is all powerful, even more powerful than cancer. How could I believe in a God who is not all powerful?

# # #

This probably is not a good time for me to answer that question. Is God all-powerful? I just returned home from burying my daughter. She died of cancer. It’s not my grief that tells you that she was a wonderful, kind, loving, patient Christian who tried very hard to walk the walk, not just talk the talk. She served two years as a missionary in Central America, working with homeless children.

Perhaps if she had been here, where we have better treatments, where the doctors have more resources … I don’t know. She finally came home, but by then the prognosis was pretty grim. They tried everything they knew, and she fought to live. And we prayed for her. Everyone who knew me prayed for her. Everyone who knew her prayed for her. They prayed at home, and they prayed in church. They prayed in this country, and they prayed in Honduras where she had been. The children prayed for her. They wanted her to return.

But God didn’t heal her. God didn’t answer their prayers. So either God couldn’t, or God wouldn’t. If God couldn’t, then God is not all-powerful. If God wouldn’t, then God is not loving. And I’d rather believe that God couldn’t than wouldn’t.

# # #

My personal experience? A month ago, lightning struck a dead tree in the wilderness area near my home—a beautiful home, a log home, a big log home, not just your run-of-the-mill log cabin. Worth a small fortune.

For a while the wind was coming from the west, blowing the fire away from my home. We stayed, but we kept an eye on the wind and on the news. I knew they would notify us if we needed to evacuate, but we already had our bags and our treasures packed. The dogs’ crates were in the pickup, so we were ready to leave on short notice.

Sure enough, the notice came. I could feel that the wind had shifted, and I could see the redness getting closer. We loaded up and drove out, afraid that we would never see our lovely home again.

It was a horrible week. They kept calling in more firefighters, more planes, more equipment. They had a website that showed the area burning. They had regular meetings with all of us they had evacuated, but the news was always the same—it’s out of control and we can’t protect everything. From the sound of it, I wondered if they could protect anything.

A fire like that creates its own storm, its own wind, its own weather. The firefighters—I can’t tell you how hard that must be. Hard, dirty, hot—carrying heavy packs, trudging through mountainous terrain that is impossible even in good weather, sleeping so very little, fighting so very hard. They’re heroes, all of them! And we prayed for them as well as for our homes.

Fortunately, nobody died in the fire. Everyone evacuated, so everyone (except the firefighters, of course) was safe. In our area, everyone had even managed to rescue all their animals—cats, dogs, horses, even cattle.

Did I mention that it was a horrible week of agonizing waiting? Waiting for word. Which homes had burned? Which homes were still standing? They tried to keep track by air, and they showed us the aerial photos they took. But it was hard to recognize from the air what we knew so well from the ground. Sometimes it looked like our home was safe, and sometimes it didn’t. We counted ridges and looked for landmarks—roads, ponds, whatever might give us an indication. But we didn’t know.

Finally … finally they were able to get into the area where our property was, and finally … finally they were able to tell us that our house was still standing! Still standing! Praise God! Our prayers had been answered.

Four of our neighbors lost their homes completely. You could only tell where the house had been by the foundation or the fireplace. Nothing left—no family pictures, no treasured dishes, no children’s toys, no walls, just nothing, like none of it had ever existed, except some concrete pads.

But our home stood! Like God had breathed on the flames and blown them away, like God had sent an angel to turn the fire, to chase it away. God had protected our home with a flame-proof blanket.

How could I not believe in an all-powerful God?

# # #

I’m standing here in the mud, looking at what used to be my precious home, my humble dwelling, and you ask me what I think. Is God all powerful? You want to know what I think? I think God can’t stop a flood.

It rained, and it rained, and it rained. It wasn’t 40 days and 40 nights, but it was long enough. The river swelled and grew and spread out and covered everything for miles around.

Right now, look at this. There’s standing water a couple feet deep in some places. Can you imagine what this looked like earlier this year? With the green grass and budding trees and blooming flowers? Can you imagine what my house looked like, freshly painted, its new windows sparkling clean, tulips all around? Can you imagine how proud I was of my little frame home? Every morning I thanked God for my good fortune. Every night I thanked God for all my blessings.

And now … mud up to the windowsills. There’s still water in my basement. The floors are soaked, soggy carpets and rugs. Actually, some of my rugs were swept out into the back yard!

Nothing is dry, not even the light fixtures. You should see the bookshelves. All the books are swollen, bulging, water soaked. You can’t even tell what they are, their title, their author. They’re just lumps on the floor or on the shelves. How am I ever going to clean up this mess?

And you want to know if God is all-powerful? Standing here right now, how can I believe in a God who can’t even protect my home?

# # #

So you’re asking this old lady what I think about God. Is God all-powerful? Let me tell you a little about my life before I give you an answer to that one.

There have been times in my life when I felt like if I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all. (Used to be a song to that effect.) My husband was killed in the war—that one was supposed to end all wars. We had only been married a few months. I didn’t even know I was pregnant when he shipped out. We were just kids. He never came back. They gave me his dog tags. I have some pictures and lots of wonderful memories.

Our daughter grew up without a father. I told her as many stories as I could remember–about us dating, about our wedding, about the man he might have been. His folks had not approved of our getting married, but they did help when times were really tough.

She was just 20 when the accident happened. She and her friends had been out partying, but they weren’t drunk. The man who hit their car was the one who was drunk. She never knew what hit her. It took me a long time to get beyond that. I couldn’t go to sleep at night without hearing the screaming of brakes, the crunching of metal, the thud of soft bodies.

And then they took my house. They wanted to build a freeway right through my kitchen. My house—where Bobby kissed me goodbye in his bright new uniform, where my daughter played with her dolls, where I intended to die. They took my house.

Oh, they brought me here, and these folks take good care of me. They feed me and wash my clothes and make sure I’m warm and dry. It’s a nice place, and most of the other old people here are nice. But this is not my home. This is not where I wanted to die.

But what do I think of God? How could I have managed to survive all of this if I did not believe that God loves me, that God has cared for me? I don’t know if that means that God is all-powerful, but I do know that it means that God IS.

For consideration:

1) How does this story follow its Scripture?

2) How does this story expand its Scripture for you?

3) What is the message of this story?

4) How does the message apply to us today?

Specific questions

5) What has been your experience?

6) Should we base our expectations of God on a single life event?

7) What do you believe? Is God all-powerful?

8) Have you read Rabbi Kushner’s book, Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?