May 20, 2007 message by Pastor Rich Doebler
Did your parents ever say to you, "This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you"? Have you ever said that to your own kids?
Sometimes it hurts to do the right thing—the best thing. Sometimes it's far easier to ignore a problem or minimize it. Sometimes it's easier to avoid confrontation—who wants a scene?
As a young father I had to learn that love for my children sometimes meant doing unpleasant things. Things that I didn't enjoy and they didn't appreciate. Things that they wanted to avoid. Some were big issues; others were small, but unpleasant nonetheless.
For instance, it was not a loving thing for me to do if I only let my kids eat candy—but didn't make them eat peas: "It's always healthy to eat green food...so go ahead and eat the green M&Ms. Green food is always healthy." It's hard for us to understand that the loving thing sometimes leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Sometimes love has to be tough. In fact, love must be both tender and tough.
Last week Fred talked about the tender side of love: When you fall down and skin your knee and your Mom wipes away the tears and gently cleans the wound and then comforts you with a band-aid. That's love expressed in tender ways.
But band-aids and soothing words are not always what we need. Sometimes the most loving thing someone can do for us feels unpleasant. Sometimes we need tough words instead of tender.
Example: One day when my oldest was 2 years old, we were standing in the front yard when he ran into the street. I grabbed him by the arm, turned him the other direction, and told him sternly he shouldn't run into the street. But he was not so easily persuaded. A few moments later, he took off running for the street. I caught him on the edge of the street, turned him around and gave him two or three whacks across the bottom to encourage him to go in the right direction.
From my perspective, that was the loving thing to do—I was protecting him from future danger by teaching him that bad decisions are painful. At the time, he didn't appreciate the fact that I was actually doing a very loving thing for him. Neither did the driver of a passing car. As he went sailing by he shouted out the car window something about child abuse.
I guess it's normal for people to misunderstand correction and discipline. It seems counterintuitive that hard things, tough things, painful things can actually be good for us. God knew it would be difficult for us to grasp this concept, so he offers an explanation in the letter to the Hebrews.
Hebrews 12:11 — No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.
We do not enjoy being disciplined. It is painful, but later, after we have learned from it, we have peace, because we start living in the right way. (NCV)
In fact, the larger context of this passage in Hebrews teaches us several things about God's tough love:
1. ...the Lord disciplines those he loves... Heb 12:6
Which mother loves her child more? The one who gives him a spank when he runs into the street? Or the one who says, "Why don't you just go outside and play in the traffic?"
We need to see God's discipline as a sign of his love for us! If God didn't care about you and love you, then he wouldn't discipline you. Difficult times and tough situations show God's love for us—through our troubles, he is working out something for our ultimate good. Tough love is a sign that he really loves us.
2. God's tough love means we are his children.
We need to see painful, tough situations as proof that we are God's children. We belong to him!
It's easy to feel abandoned when we're going through a valley. It's easy to feel alone when there's darkness all around. But God's tough love should remind us that we are his children.
When things go badly for us, when we experience difficulties, when life hurts, how much better it will be for us if we can look up to see a loving heavenly Father at work in our lives.
If God doesn't discipline you as he does all of his children, it means that you are illegitimate and are not really his children after all. Heb 12:8 (NLT)
Someone says: Well, not all troubles are an "act of God." What about the pain caused by people?
Good question! Sometimes our troubles come because of the bad choices and behavior of others. People make mistakes. There is injustice in the world. There are wicked people in this world. You may be the victim of evil. But even then God can use the wrongs of this world to prepare us for good in eternity.
Sometimes our troubles are brought on by our own choices. We make poor decisions and cause our own pain—but God can use the consequences of our own actions to teach us, guide us, and shape us.
3. Tough love is designed to make us better.
...God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. (Hebrews 12:10)
We need to see what God is doing in our lives when we go through difficult and painful experiences. There is a bigger picture. Pain and difficulties are small matters compared to the more important things he is doing. He intends for his love—his tough love—to produce holiness in us.
God uses troubles to get our attention and move us closer to him. When all is well and we can manage our lives on our own, we can easily miss God's higher purposes. But when problems bring us to the end of ourselves, we're more likely to turn to God. Painful discipline gets our attention.
C.S. Lewis: "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." (The Problem of Pain, p.91).
God wants a people who are holy, set apart for his purposes—he uses trials to purify and refine us.
Proverbs 17:3 (TEV) Gold and silver are tested by fire, and a person's heart is tested by the LORD.
The refining pot is for silver and the furnace for gold, But the LORD tests hearts. (NASB)
Why holiness? Because sin is a barrier between us and God. Sin separates us from him. He doesn't want anything to come between us and him, so he wants to remove the barrier by making us holy.
6 ...now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. (1 Peter 1:6-7)
Kenneth Wuest comments on this passage, describing the goldsmith in ancient times purifying the ore, making the fire hotter and hotter until the metal melts. Then in the pool of molten metal, impurities float to the surface. The goldsmith skims the dross off the surface of the liquid metal. Again and again, he removes the impurities. As the bad stuff is removed, more floats to the top. He keeps the fire hot and keeps removing impurities until, finally, no more bad stuff comes out. When at last the shimmering, liquid metal is so pure that the goldsmith can see his face reflected perfectly on the surface, then he takes it off the fire and cools it down.
In the same way, God uses the pain and heat of trials to refine us. He uses fires of adversity to purify us. He uses tribulations to remove the bad stuff and make us holy—until at last he can see his own reflection in our lives! And then he cools the fire.
...without holiness no one will see the Lord. (Heb 12:14)
Someone says: I don't believe God causes pain. A loving God could never do that.
That's kind of like us accusing God of child abuse, like the guy in the car was saying when he saw me give my son a swat on his diapers: "No loving father would spank his toddler." Well, I say it's more loving to cause my son pain that way than to stand idly by and watch him get hit by a car.
I'm sorry if this messes with your theology, but here is what God's Word says:
"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful" (v 11); "...the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son" (v 6).
NIV's word "punishes" is "scourges" in NASB—the Greek word is derived from the Greek word for "whip." It's the same word John used in his gospel when he wrote that "...Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged." (John 19:1, NIV)
I know it seems severe and the concept isn't popular at all, but discipline is a good thing. It's hard for 2-year-olds to understand; it's hard for us to accept. But the truth of the matter is: God uses pain and trouble to accomplish good in us. Holiness is one result, so we can conclude that pain actually benefits us in the long run.
Other benefits: perseverance, character, hope (Romans 5:3-4; James 1:2-4); eternal glory (2 Cor 4:17; Romans 8:18); Christ-like character (Romans 8:29); life (1 Tim 4:8); victory (2 Tim 2:3-6); righteousness (2 Tim 4:6-8).
In fact, without pain—without discipline—we would miss out on the more important things God wants to do in us to mature and develop us. Pain has a purpose and a reason.
Years ago, my Mother, after having Novocain for some dental work, went out for lunch with my Dad. That day she happened to order a ham sandwich, and halfway through the meal she said to herself, "This ham is really tough." It was only after trying to bite through the "ham" that she discovered that she was trying to bite through her tongue. Without being able to feel the pain, she injured herself. Pain is a warning signal to us that something is wrong, that something needs to change.
Rabbi Harold Kushner in his book When Bad Things Happen To Good People writes (p 62) about 1 in 400,000 children who is born with a "genetic disease known as familial dysautonomia. He cannot feel pain. Such a child will cut himself, burn himself, fall down and break bones, without feeling any pain."
At first, we might think it would be a blessing to go through life without feeling pain. Without pain we would feel invincible. We'd feel like Superman, oblivious to pain, suffering, and heartache. But these children are not Superman—and without pain to warn them, they get hurt or sick and never get proper treatment.
They fall and skin their knee, but because they don't feel it, they never stop to clean the scrape. Then infection sets in. Some have had to have legs or arms amputated because they didn't deal with a small problem, and it became a major problem. Instead of protecting broken bones so they can heal, they keep using them, adding injury to injury, making matters worse. [Similar related diseases: Hereditary Sensory and Autonomic Neuropathy, type IV and Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis].
Tough love is painful, but pain has a purpose! It's God's warning signal. It's God's way of getting our attention. It's God's way of working on us, disciplining us, training us. It's God's way of calling us to come closer to him so he can prepare us for eternity.
Last week we learned about tender love: that the church is a safe place. But the church also needs to be a place that loves enough to be tough when necessary. (Matt 18:15-18; Gal 6:1; 2 Tim 4:2-4; Tit 3:10-11)
The Bible tells us that we are to warn, admonish, rebuke, reprove, correct, and exhort one another. The Bible tells us that the church leaders have a serious obligation and responsibility—to keep watch over your souls (Heb 13:17).
I can assure you that your pastors and elders do not enjoy disciplining those who need warning or rebuke. We're like parents who say, "This is going to hurt me more than it does you."
There's nothing fun about challenging or confronting people. There's nothing fun about embarrassing them or causing them grief. There's nothing fun about being misunderstood or challenged by others—Who do you think you are? This is church abuse! But leaders have to do it because the Bible says that they are held to account if they do not watch over your souls.
To help people mature "to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:13), we must speak the truth. But the Bible says when we speak the truth, we're to speak "the truth in love" (Eph 4:15).
Speaking the truth means to each other and to ourselves. Speaking the truth means no denial, no self deception, no cover-ups, no excuses. Speaking the truth means warning, correcting, rebuking. Speaking the truth means confessing wrong. AND speaking the truth means love.
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. (Heb 12:11)