The God Who Feels Pain

MP3 File: 

20100404 Sermon.mp3

It's true. I terrorized them. Quite literally. They managed somehow to recover, I guess. They never seemed to need therapy for what I did, but still I'm glad the statute of limitations is up by now.

They were about 3 and 4 years old, and it was their first time in an automated car wash. I stepped out of the car to pay for the wash, fully intending to get back in the car with my boys. But while I was at the counter, a worker got in the car and drove it to the entrance.

He got out of the car and a huge conveyor belt hooked onto the car wheels and started pulling the car through the wash. The boys watched in wide-eyed horror as the car windows were covered with foam and blocked out the light of day. Terrible, loud noises growled all around the car as machinery creaked and huge rollers with brushes pressed down on the car and started swallowing it up.

I turned from the counter to go back to the car only to discover it was already moving into the tunnel of terror. Two small faces were pressed against the side windows, looking for their father to help them. But their father was standing in a safe place, far away from them, far from harm's way. Peering out from their chamber of horrors, they saw their father looking back with a goofy grin on his face, trying to reassure them in sign language that everything would be okay, that this would be fun—like a carnival ride—and that they should enjoy it.

They didn't understand what I was trying to say. They must have felt that I had sold them to the car wash monster. Just little kids, they felt abandoned and rejected by their father, left alone to face the monster, which continued to suck the car deeper into a black hole of doom.

That was when my 4-year-old decided to take matters into his own hands. He opened the door to make a run for it. He didn't realize he would have been fine inside the car. He didn't know that now he had put himself in real danger. He thought he was making things better for himself, but he made things worse.

Outside the car there were moving gears and chains and powerful jets of spraying water. As he got out of the car, he knocked a library book out of the back seat and down into a trench where huge gears were pulling a big bicycle-like chain to move the car along. The book was soaked by the water and (I assume) crushed by the gears. We never saw it again.

I ran into the car wash, stepping over gears and along moving belts to snatch Nathan from the teeth of the monster before ducking out. But I left Micah inside the car, where his terror and his trauma continued.

It's easy now to look back on that event and laugh. Certainly their fears were exaggerated and unrealistic. There was really nothing to be afraid of. There are, however, very legitimate dangers when a small child steps out of a car in a place like that. The story could have ended with devastating results.

What about you? Have you ever felt like a small child in an unfamiliar, threatening place?

We all face anxieties and worries. Maybe you've encountered overwhelming, suffocating fears. Maybe you've been traumatized by unexplained events or confusing circumstances that come along the conveyor belt of life.

Have you ever felt abandoned by your heavenly Father? Did you ever feel like God left you all alone to face the monsters and the black holes that came to swallow you up? Did you ever feel like God was a long ways off? Did you ever feel neglected by him—abandoned—like his promises were a long way off?

Did you ever feel so desperate that you stepped out on your own? Did you ever try to take matters into your own hands? Maybe you felt you had no options. You'd come to the end. You felt it was better to do something rather than do nothing. So you jumped out of the car and into the wash. All because things weren't going right. All because your Father seemed to have deserted you.

What do you do when God seems far off? When you feel deserted and abandoned? When you're in pain?

This past week I received an email from Steve Rasmussen, whom many of you will remember—the son of Virgil and Ruth Rasmussen who spent many of his formative years growing up in this church and is now a missionary in Kenya. He wrote about his friend from this church, Paul Middleton, whose funeral was this past Tuesday. How do you deal with questions that inevitably come when someone dies too soon, leaving behind four children from 9 to 18? How do you explain the premature death of a deeply spiritual, committed Christian? How do you answer the questions of "why?" and "where was God?" In his email, Steve went beyond those questions to talk instead about the promises—promises of eternal life, assurances that he would see his friend again one day.

But what do you say when God seems far off? What do you do when the promises seem distant and the fear overwhelming?

King David in the Bible felt like that. He felt the pain of abandonment so strongly that he wrote songs about it. His lyrics ended up in the Bible—God gave David's song to us so we'd know we're not alone when it comes to feeling alone. Listen to the words—if you're singing them, the note in the Bible says it should be sung to the tune of "The Doe of the Morning." I'll read it from the NIV with additional words and phrases from other versions added in.

Ps 22:1-2 ¹My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? [deserted me?^CEV; abandoned me?^NLT] Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? [so far away?^CEV; so distant...why do you ignore my cries?^NLT] ²O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent. [...I cry out day and night, but you don't answer, and I can never rest.^CEV; ...Every night you hear my voice, but I find no relief.^NLT; ...I call to God all the day long. No answer. Nothing. I keep at it all night, tossing and turning^MSG]

I can imagine that most of you, if you feel deeply and if you're honest with yourself, have at one time or another echoed words similar to David's. I can imagine there have been times when you felt like my two boys felt in the car wash: afraid, vulnerable, abandoned, deserted, confused.

But I also imagine that some of you are saying, "Wait a minute! This is Easter! Where's the Easter message? Where is the Resurrection?"

Well, I'm getting to that. But I wanted to take you on a trip into the darkness before bringing you to the light.

Here's the thing: The Resurrection happened because the cross happened. Before the Resurrection could occur, the cross had to happen.

• Jesus had to be with us before he could lift us.
• He had to feel our pain before he could give us his power.
• He had to taste our despair before he could share his hope.
• He had to descend into darkness before we could walk into his light.
• He had to become sin before we could become the righteousness of God.
• He had to go to the cross and die before those who were dead inside, in their souls, could go to the cross and live.

On the cross Jesus felt our fears...took the weight of our sins. He identified with our human weakness. On the cross Jesus took our place. He felt what we feel. He hurt like we hurt.

The Bible says Jesus is our "great high priest"—not "a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but...one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin" (Heb 4:15). The Bible also says that "because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted" (Heb 2:18).

The truth is these feelings of being forsaken and abandoned, these feelings we all have had to one extent or another, these feelings that David expressed so poignantly, are the same feelings that Jesus felt when he went to the cross. He sympathizes with our weaknesses; he was tempted just as we are tempted.

I want you to understand that Jesus took the full weight of our struggles and troubles with him to the cross.

• If you have ever felt deserted by your heavenly Father, so did Jesus.
• If you've suffered with despair and desperation, so did Jesus.
• If you've been confused and afraid, so was Jesus.
• He took all the things we wrestle with—our loneliness, our fear, our shame, our sin. Jesus took all those things with him to the cross.

You say, "Well, how do you know that, Rich? How do you know that Jesus felt like that?"

Well, we know it because some of Jesus' last words were recorded in historical documents. The Gospels tell how on the cross Jesus, in his dying moments, echoed David's words.

Mark 15:33-34 ³³At the sixth hour darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour. ³⁴And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

Throughout his ministry Jesus quoted from many different passages of Scripture. But on the cross he quoted Psalm 22. On the cross he identified with David's fears and abandonment, with his confusion and pain.

And it was on the cross that Jesus identified with your pain and confusion and fear and desperation. He took the weight of your sin; he took all your troubles on himself.

• He felt the rejection you felt when your father walked out of your home and out of your life.
• He felt the abandonment you felt when your wife filed for divorce.
• He felt the loss—the deep, black hole—you felt when death invaded your home and robbed you of one you loved.
• He felt the anguish you felt when your teen ran away.
• He felt the despair you felt when you got hooked on drugs, or alcohol, or porn.
• Jesus felt what you have felt.

I think too often we look at the physical pain Jesus felt on the cross. We see Mel Gibson's The Passion of Christ, and we wince at the torn flesh and the blood and the gore. Jesus suffered on the cross, but I think he suffered in ways far worse than the physical pain of a Roman crucifixion.

Thousands died that way, suffering in horrible agony, but Jesus suffered uniquely. He suffered like no one else has ever suffered. Three ways:

1. Jesus felt YOUR pain. He didn't just feel his own pain—he felt what you feel. In fact, he felt the pain of the whole world! Jesus felt all that pain more deeply than anything you've ever felt. He felt your emotional pain but, more importantly, he felt your spiritual pain. He took all your troubles, your fears, AND your sins.
   
   1 Tim 1:15. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners...
   
   
2. Jesus felt rejected. He was holy and sinless—in perfect sync with his Father. But because he took our sin, he suffered the pain of becoming unholy. So he was rejected by his Father. The holy, sinless, righteous Son of God became sin and took the pain of our punishment upon himself.
   
   2 Cor 5:21 (NASB). He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.  [...God treated him as a sinner, so that Christ could make us acceptable to God.^CEV]
   
   
3. Jesus gave his life.
   
   In the OT a lamb—one that was perfect, without blemish or flaw—could be offered as a sacrifice to pay a ransom so the sinner would not have to die. The priest would place his hands on the head of the animal, transferring the sins of the people onto the animal. The perfect, innocent lamb—now guilty with the sins of the people—would then be killed. Its blood was poured out to pay for the consequence of sin; its life given in exchange for another. (See, for example, Lev 4:14-16; 4:27-35; 14:12-14; 16:20-22.)
   
   So when John, the Baptist, saw Jesus, he announced to the people, "Look! There is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29, NLT). Jesus gave his life for the people.

The cross is about death and sin, but the Resurrection is about life. The cross is about despair; the Resurrection is about hope. The cross is about rejection and fear; the Resurrection is about love and acceptance. The cross is about darkness; the Resurrection is about light.

The cross of Jesus is where we can leave our feelings of being forsaken—because Jesus was forsaken in our place. The Resurrection is where we receive forgiveness and the solid assurance of God's love and grace and eternal life. All because he took our place. All because he feels our pain.

"I'm trading my sorrow. I'm trading my shame. I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord. I'm trading my sickness. I'm trading my pain. I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord... Though the sorrow may last for the night, his joy comes with the morning." [Trading My Sorrows by Darrell Evans]

The journey from the cross to the Resurrection takes us from being being condemned to being accepted and forgiven.

"I'm forgiven because you were forsaken. I'm accepted; you were condemned. I'm alive and well—your Spirit is within me because you died and rose again." [You Are My King by Billy Foote]

All this is possible because Jesus travels with us into the car washes of life—he goes into the tunnels of terror, into the black holes of life. Jesus goes with us to conquer our fears. To make sense of life's confusing events. To bring us through when troubles threaten to swallow us.

So what difference does this make? How should we respond to the message of the Resurrection?

1. Stop dying and start living. "Because I live," Jesus said, "you also will live" (John 14:19). Too many people in this world are dying on the inside! Open yourself up to the life of God given through Jesus Christ. "...Just as Christ was raised from the dead..." Paul wrote in Romans, "we too may live a new life" (Romans 6:4).
2. Surrender your pain to Jesus. He died to take away your emotional pain and your spiritual pain. You don't have to hold on to it any longer.
3. Let go of your sin. Confess your wrongs, your failures, and your flaws so you can receive his forgiveness. You can do that simply by praying...