Life is complicated. And there are times we can’t make meaning of it no matter how hard we try. And sometimes, maybe even often, we can’t make sense of God—who God is, what God is doing, what we want or need from God. God can be more of a problem than an answer. But there is an answer that gives us what we need. Here’s a sermon I call, “The Problem of God,” based on Job 38.1-7, 34-41; John 9.1-3. Preached at Davis Community Church on October 17, 2021.

1.

Scholars think that this Old Testament document called “Job” is some of the oldest literature in the Bible. It may be among the oldest of humanity’s written fables and myths and stories.

It’s the tale of a man who’s done nothing that could cause him to suffer but who experiences extreme trauma anyway. The problem is, God does nothing to protect or even comfort him. In fact, the storyteller suggests that God is behind his suffering. God, according to this story, allows it, even authorizes it. And that’s a problem for anyone who wants to say that God is good and that God is powerful.

You’ve probably struggled at some point in your life when you’ve suffered or someone you love has suffered senselessly; you’ve probably wondered, if God is good and powerful then is God missing in action? Is God blind? Or is God weak, unable to do anything about the suffering? Or maybe you wondered: did you or your loved one do something to bring it about—something that could have been avoided, and the suffering, then, avoided too? . . .

Religion has played a powerful role in human evolution and the shaping of societies. Sometimes it’s a benevolent force; other times, not so much. It can even (often) be malevolent not only to human beings but to nature as well. And yes, as the famed atheist, Sam Harris, says “What will replace organized religion? The answer, I believe, is nothing and everything.” In this sermon, I explore a kind of religion that could serve us well. I’ve titled it, “Vision for Religion,” and it’s based on the Song of Songs 2.8-13 and Mark 7.1-8. Preached on August 29, 2021

1.
We are each birthed into the world in absolute freedom, perfect wonderment. We enter the world without a map, without a role, without an identity other than being the beloved offspring of Life’s longing for itself.

If you really pay attention to the entrance a baby makes into the world you will notice that they arrive light, with no burdens, no job description, no demand on them—not really, not truly, not ontologically. Some parents or grandparents or siblings can be foolish and controlling and cruel; they can place unnecessary and spiritually unwelcome expectations on a baby, expectations no baby ought to have to deal with and certainly shouldn’t try to live up to. . . .

What is prayer? How do we pray? How do we keep away from that silly notion that God is some kind of divine genie with a lamp or a Santa Claus doling out answers to our requests? Prayer is so much more that getting things from God or competing with others for God’s attention. And prayer needs to be saved from the injustices that can to flow from it when we think God answers our prayers and not someone else’s, or acts on our requests when our requests have consequences for the lives of others and of the Earth itself.

In this meditation on the nature of prayer, I rescue prayer from the hackneyed habits and assumptions around prayer that keep intelligent people from praying and from the formality and institutionalism of prayer that can paralyze those who desire to pray. . .

As human beings, we can’t separate ourselves from the earth. We are intricately and intimately related to the earth and to all things on the earth. The Bible and science both acknowledge this truth. If the pandemic has done anything positive, it may be that it has made us acutely aware of our interconnectivity. A sermon based on Matt 8:18-27 and the writings of Thomas Berry and Joanna Macy.

1.

Thomas Berry says, “The destiny of humans cannot be separated from the destiny of earth.”

That’s because we, as human beings, can’t separate ourselves from the earth. We are intricately and intimately related to the earth and to all things on the earth. The Bible and science both acknowledge this truth. If the pandemic has done anything positive, it may be that it has made us acutely aware of our interconnectivity.

“If the world is to be healed through human efforts,” says Joanna Macy, “I am convinced it will be by ordinary people. . . People who can open to the web of life that called us into being.”

There’s a BCC special called “My Passion for Trees” with British actress Judi Dench. It’s an exquisite film celebrating the wonder of these great creatures we take for granted. . . .