The most egregious of these evil-intended-for-good events is
the crucifixion of our Savior. The Jewish religious leaders intended to do
Jesus great bodily harm, but in the first gospel sermon, Peter
declared that God purposely used them to save the world through their evil
intentions. One of the most astounding things found in Scripture is the
revelation that
the Lamb was slain before the foundation of the world. God knew a costly
redemption would be necessary before He spoke the first word of creation.
When the Apostle Paul was beaten with rods (multiple times)
or stoned (once to the point of death) or chased by wild animals or shipwrecked
in a storm, it is reasonable to assume that he suffered real, physical trauma.
Yet he
said that he rejoiced to “fill up in my flesh what is lacking of the
afflictions of Christ on behalf of His body which is the church.” One marvels
at the oversized faith of the first disciples who faced suffering with supreme
confidence that their trust in God’s intentions would result in their
deliverance – if not from physical death, then certainly from eternal death. It
is an act of faith to remember during a difficult time that God
said, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not
my ways,” but that doesn’t make the way any less painful.
Although I can only hope I have that kind of confidence if I
ever have to face recant-or-die challenges, I suspect I fall short (woefully
short) of the measure of faith demonstrated by the early saints in the little
trials I do encounter. When I don’t get that hoped-for job; when I get that
flat tire; when I suffer the excruciating pain of a colitis attack; when the
wicked prosper while I struggle to make ends meet; then do I rejoice that I am
counted worthy
to suffer for the name of Christ. I have to ask if God is really in all the
little things that make up my life.
Years ago, I was driving a school bus along a highway when I
saw some gravel that had been tossed onto the pavement. I thought about the
significance of the gravel. Was it there because someone drifted off the road?
Did they lose control and crash? Did they regain control and move safely back
onto the roadway in a “Jesus Take the Wheel” moment? Was God responsible for
whatever happened? I began asking myself how deeply God is involved in the
seemingly inconsequential things in our lives. I realized something crucial
that day: nothing is without significance.
I must believe this. To deny God’s hand in one thing is to
question His part in everything. If even one piece of gravel lands outside of
God’s sovereign control, it would leave open the possibility that any of His
plans could fail. Don’t think that the enemy of our souls won’t take every
opportunity to thwart God’s design for His people. He has throughout history.
Just look at Israel’s track record. Satan tried again and again to deceive them
or destroy them. Only the relentless mercy and power of the Sovereign God kept
a remnant alive to accomplish their mission to bring forth the Messiah.
The
Apostle Paul said that God is at work in us “to will and to work for His
good pleasure.” Notice it says, “His good pleasure,” not yours. Not mine.
Paul is saying God will do whatever He wants, however He wants to accomplish
His will. It is curious that the verse before this says, “work out your own
salvation with fear and trembling.” Here we face the historic dilemma of God’s
sovereignty contrasted with man’s free will. This is in the context of Jesus
being exalted so that every knee should bow and every tongue confess that Jesus
is Lord to the glory of the Father. Paul says that being the case, believers
must get to work on their salvation. The “work” he recommends is obedience –
obedience to the sovereign will of God.
I think one of the hardest things about this is accepting
that our trials, our pains, our suffering are the conditions of God working in
us for His good pleasure. It will often not be pleasurable for us, this working
of God. Job’s
words in the midst of his terrible suffering keep coming back to me: “Though he
kill me, I will hope in Him.” When our suffering is at its worst, it is
tempting to wish that God would indeed kill us. “Put me out of my misery,” we
might say. Yet, we
are told that Jesus was able to endure the shame of the cross, which
included the worst pain imaginable, because of the joy that was set before Him.
He knew with absolute certainty that He would be going back to His place at the
Father’s side after His full obedience to God’s will.
Did the nails hurt less because He knew His future? Did His
foreknowledge reduce the shame of hanging like a common criminal for all to
mock and gawk at? I doubt it. It may be scant comfort in the dark night of the
soul to remember
the encouragement given to the Hebrews: “For consider the one who endured
such hostility by sinners against himself, so that you will not grow weary
in your souls and give up. You have not yet resisted to the point
of shedding your blood as you struggle against sin.” No matter
how close we may come to shedding our blood, there can only be one response to
trials: surrender to God’s design. What else can we do?
Related Posts: Necessary Obedience; The Knowledge of Good and Evil; Rolling Thunder

