Insightful Musings on the Scriptures

by

Raymond P. Sparre
Northwest University class of '67

The radio came on instantly as I turned the key last evening to start my old pickup. I had just knocked out a couple hours of sawmill work. The meaning of the words in that little news clip caught me totally by surprise—something like, “The death toll is now exceeding 4400…” Without warning, I burst into tears. No one else was around, so I was free to weep uninhibited. I don’t even know how to describe it—perhaps a combination of heart-wrenching compassion, along with a crying out in intercessory prayer for God’s intervention and mercy. All I knew is that this report concerning such a major loss of life was incapable of describing the total scope of horrific suffering beyond what my little head was capable of computing—all happening to real people in the Philippines as a result of that massive storm—men, women, boys, and girls—all striving to find meaning and happiness in life as much as myself or anyone in my own family. I suppose that some of the anguish of that moment flows from the fact of my own helplessness to do anything substantial about it. All I can do is agonize. But so what? What good does that do?

Emotional agony, I reason, is as much a component of a balanced Biblical worldview as are love, joy, and peace. That looms as an undeniable fact that I’m seeing more clearly with time. Indeed, how is it even possible to fashion such a nice package of faith and belief that all I can think about is how blessed and happy I am?—how much fun it is to have found this sanctuary of wall-to-wall JOY OF THE LORD? Wouldn’t it require the ignoring of a large amount of truth in order to live happily ever after in that nice little cloistered cocoon? I have to be happy about finding the “secret place of the Most High” (Psalm 91:1) but how can I be happy about those who haven’t?—especially when I add to this perspective the finality of eternity.

The shortest verse in the Bible is “Jesus wept” (John 11:35)—but it may be one of the longest verses in the Bible insofar as comprehension is concerned. God weeping? Why? I can assure you it was not because Jesus was overwhelmed with sadness over the death of His friend, Lazarus—that (sniff) He would never see him again (sniff, sniff). That strikes me as absurd! (See John 11:25-26.) I believe He wept at the graveside of Lazarus for the same reason He wept over Jerusalem—“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing” (Matthew 23:27-29). The heart-rending key phrase there is, “but you were not willing.” That has to be the saddest cause behind the effect of most human suffering. But when an individual is willing—eager to seek God with a heart to please Him—that changes everything. And even though that person encounters the most horrible suffering known to humans, it’s really not a big deal. How so? Because that suffering is not the end of the matter—and dwelling “in the house of the LORD forever” (Psalm 23:6) is. At least it’s the beginning of the end of the matter. Paul testifies loud and clear, “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18, KJV).

Nahum had a preview of the untold suffering coming upon Israel. But untold suffering is not over with yet on planet earth. John, in his recorded vision of Revelation foretells a lot more to come. I find no delight in that. Notice the similarity between the prostitute Nahum describes and the one described by John in Revelation 17 and 18. I think they’re the same. I view it as another way to identify the workings of the Kingdom of Satan that exploits the NATURAL SIN NATURE. And all who submit to that set of options are in for more untold suffering. How do I live in peace with that reality?