Overkill. It’s an interesting concept. It takes places when, according to www.thefreedictionary.com, “an excess of what is necessary or appropriate for a particular end” is used. It can be as big as stockpiling thermonuclear warheads or as small as taking a child to the hospital for a nick or bruise. Overkill often takes place in horrors movies where they say, “There’s no kill like overkill.”
However, there are a host of situations in which ridiculous is exactly what we need. These situations reside where our own strength ends. Where we're totally drained, where the tank has not a drop left in it. For example, where the mother wakes in the middle of the night to the cries of a hungry newborn. Where the father, who has tried everything under the sun, has no more words for his teenager. Where the grown and dutiful son's or daughter's elderly parent has gone to the hospital, once again, and at the busiest time possible. It's where the money runs out before the bills do. When things like this happen, it can seem as if someone has pulled a plug and we can feel all our strength drain out of us and soak into the ground beneath our feet.
Boy, could the apostle Paul relate to us! His problem was chronic illness. He says, "a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me" (2 Corinthians 12:7-8 ESV).
This "thorn" came as a result of Paul's trip to the "third heaven" in which he saw paradise. It was a "messenger of Satan," a demon, who inflicted a painful physical condition on the apostle (for more on fallen angels inflicting problems on humans see Job 2). What was God's answer to Paul's pleas? He said, "My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness" (v. 9).
All my life I have been greatly comforted when, in difficult times, I read this verse and was reminded of God's grace on me. The last time I heard it, though, I laughed out loud. Just my luck the last time I heard it was during the Sunday sermon at church. My outloud chuckles got me some strange stares from my neighbors, and from their neighbors.
I laughed, not mockingly, but out of the pure joy of surprise. At the moment Pastor Douthit quoted the verse, I felt that I had a new understanding of what God's grace is, at least in that context. Consider these thoughts: God's grace is the peace treaty that removes the enmity between God and myself (Romans 5:1). It is the basket that holds the fruit of the spirit (Galatians 5:22). It is the path upon which good works lie in wait for me (Ephesians 2:10). Most importantly, it is the key that gets me through the gates of eternal life when I leave this life of trouble and pain behind (Ephesians 2:8-9).
Is God's grace, then, sufficient? Oh, it’s much more than that, so much more that it’s ridiculous. It’s overkill to the Nth degree. It's the Mayo Clinic for a scratch, a fire hose to put out a candle. Our problems, as big as they seem, are nothing compared to the endless riches of God's grace.
We spend so much time trying to get rid of our troubles. We try to make more money, make more time, go to counseling, or put our loved ones in counseling. Some of us try to escape; we do it through hunting and beer (sewing and coctails for the ladies). Some of us just get angry and let our rage carry us through. For some strange reason, we think that the land of pain and suffering is not where we should be. We should be in pursuit of happiness, and that’s a few states over from pain. Yet the Bible makes it clear that we are indeed in right place. Just look at so many examples from the Bible: Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Paul, and even Jesus Himself. Yes, we’re in the right place, and, while it is not our home, we are meant to sojourn here for awhile.
So, are we meant to mope around blindly on our hands and knees, awaiting God’s deliverance in wailing and grinding of teeth? Should we inject ourselves with the pain killer of our choice or storm around in a rant hoping our rage will outlast our sentence in the place? Absolutely not.
We should not be seeking an exit at all. We have such valuable work to do. What could be more important than sharing God’s message of love and deliverance with a lost and lonely world? And He has promised to give us what we need for our task and to help us make it to the end.
Moreso, He has promised us good things while we’re here in this place, things not of this world, a bonanza of spiritual wealth the likes of which we can’t possibly even imagine. The most important of which is a change in perspective in which we see this world with new eyes. We no longer focus on our problems. Instead, we gaze at the riches of Christ that are ours in the here and now: peace with God, the hope of eternal life with Him, the love and support of our brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s the kind of perspective that takes joy in pain because of what it produces: endurance in our walk toward Christ, in our walk with Christ. It says, like the quaker who sat down to a meal of bread and water, “All this and Jesus too!”
In a single thought, it is the perspective that sees the ridiculosity in God’s sufficiency, and it takes joy in it. Peter called this living by the divine nature (1 Peter 1:4). It can be ours, all we have to do is look to God, constantly, and He will give us new eyes with which to see.
However, there are a host of situations in which ridiculous is exactly what we need. These situations reside where our own strength ends. Where we're totally drained, where the tank has not a drop left in it. For example, where the mother wakes in the middle of the night to the cries of a hungry newborn. Where the father, who has tried everything under the sun, has no more words for his teenager. Where the grown and dutiful son's or daughter's elderly parent has gone to the hospital, once again, and at the busiest time possible. It's where the money runs out before the bills do. When things like this happen, it can seem as if someone has pulled a plug and we can feel all our strength drain out of us and soak into the ground beneath our feet.
Boy, could the apostle Paul relate to us! His problem was chronic illness. He says, "a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me" (2 Corinthians 12:7-8 ESV).
This "thorn" came as a result of Paul's trip to the "third heaven" in which he saw paradise. It was a "messenger of Satan," a demon, who inflicted a painful physical condition on the apostle (for more on fallen angels inflicting problems on humans see Job 2). What was God's answer to Paul's pleas? He said, "My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness" (v. 9).
All my life I have been greatly comforted when, in difficult times, I read this verse and was reminded of God's grace on me. The last time I heard it, though, I laughed out loud. Just my luck the last time I heard it was during the Sunday sermon at church. My outloud chuckles got me some strange stares from my neighbors, and from their neighbors.
I laughed, not mockingly, but out of the pure joy of surprise. At the moment Pastor Douthit quoted the verse, I felt that I had a new understanding of what God's grace is, at least in that context. Consider these thoughts: God's grace is the peace treaty that removes the enmity between God and myself (Romans 5:1). It is the basket that holds the fruit of the spirit (Galatians 5:22). It is the path upon which good works lie in wait for me (Ephesians 2:10). Most importantly, it is the key that gets me through the gates of eternal life when I leave this life of trouble and pain behind (Ephesians 2:8-9).
Is God's grace, then, sufficient? Oh, it’s much more than that, so much more that it’s ridiculous. It’s overkill to the Nth degree. It's the Mayo Clinic for a scratch, a fire hose to put out a candle. Our problems, as big as they seem, are nothing compared to the endless riches of God's grace.
We spend so much time trying to get rid of our troubles. We try to make more money, make more time, go to counseling, or put our loved ones in counseling. Some of us try to escape; we do it through hunting and beer (sewing and coctails for the ladies). Some of us just get angry and let our rage carry us through. For some strange reason, we think that the land of pain and suffering is not where we should be. We should be in pursuit of happiness, and that’s a few states over from pain. Yet the Bible makes it clear that we are indeed in right place. Just look at so many examples from the Bible: Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Paul, and even Jesus Himself. Yes, we’re in the right place, and, while it is not our home, we are meant to sojourn here for awhile.
So, are we meant to mope around blindly on our hands and knees, awaiting God’s deliverance in wailing and grinding of teeth? Should we inject ourselves with the pain killer of our choice or storm around in a rant hoping our rage will outlast our sentence in the place? Absolutely not.
We should not be seeking an exit at all. We have such valuable work to do. What could be more important than sharing God’s message of love and deliverance with a lost and lonely world? And He has promised to give us what we need for our task and to help us make it to the end.
Moreso, He has promised us good things while we’re here in this place, things not of this world, a bonanza of spiritual wealth the likes of which we can’t possibly even imagine. The most important of which is a change in perspective in which we see this world with new eyes. We no longer focus on our problems. Instead, we gaze at the riches of Christ that are ours in the here and now: peace with God, the hope of eternal life with Him, the love and support of our brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s the kind of perspective that takes joy in pain because of what it produces: endurance in our walk toward Christ, in our walk with Christ. It says, like the quaker who sat down to a meal of bread and water, “All this and Jesus too!”
In a single thought, it is the perspective that sees the ridiculosity in God’s sufficiency, and it takes joy in it. Peter called this living by the divine nature (1 Peter 1:4). It can be ours, all we have to do is look to God, constantly, and He will give us new eyes with which to see.