September 19, 2004

"God's Impossible Promises"

There once was a man who bought himself a shiny new Jaguar and loaded it up with all the latest gadgets and accessories. It was like a grown up boy’s toy shop on wheels.

He was enormously proud of this car and loved to drive it around so others would admire and envy it.

One day he rolled up to a stop light beside a little MG, a much smaller British sports car which had seen better days. The driver of the MG rolled down his window and said, “Nice car. What all do you have in there?” The Jaguar owner proudly reeled off, “I’ve got everything, I’ve got the premium sound system, the video/TV player, the satellite radio, the geo-positioning computer, the whole nine yards.”

And the MG driver said “Don’t you have a bed? I’ve got the premium bed in here. It really rounds out the whole package. You’ve got to get the bed.”

So the Jaguar owner went back to the dealer and asked about a bed, and sure enough, they sold beds as accessories for his car. He had it installed and then went driving up and down the roads day after day, until he found the same MG parked at the curb. He went up to the car and knocked on the window, but didn’t get an answer. He knocked and some more, and finally the window came down.

He said to the MG driver, “Just wanted you to know I bought the bed for my Jaguar, now I’ve got everything.”

And the MG driver said, “You got me out of the shower to tell me that?”

Well, that story shows how we make idols of our possessions sometimes, but it also suggests that the impossible can be more possible than we ever imagined.

And that’s the kind of God we come here to worship—the God who makes the impossible come true.

How do you know this is an election year? By all the promises that are flying around. During every election season, politicians make some wild, extravagant promises. That much we know. I saw a cute billboard the other day for a shoe maker. The picture on the billboard had all kinds of boots with only a short caption: “It’s an election year. You’re going to need these.” Well, that’s the point: you do need hip boots to wade through some of the promises candidates make.

But a smart candidate will promise just enough to be believable, but not go overboard and make people laugh.

Can you imagine if a presidential candidate stood up and promised, “If you elect me, I’m going to fix Social Security, and I’m going to end the war, and I’m going to eliminate terrorism, and I’ll cut taxes, I’ll wipe out the national debt, I’ll fix all the problems in the health care system, I’ll lower the cost of Medicare, I’ll cut the cost of prescriptions, I’ll provide a free college education for everybody who wants one, and I promise to get all this done in the next four years.” Would you vote for this candidate? Or would you think he’s lost his mind?

Look at me, church—those are the kinds of promises that God makes all the time. Have you ever noticed that about God? He likes to make promises that seem to be impossible to keep, at least from our human perspective. Today we’re going to take a look at two stories in the Bible where God seems to make his promises a little too wild, too extravagant. We’re going to see how that gives us humans trouble sometimes. And we’re going to gain a clearer picture of God’s grace and what it means to have faith in a God who loves to promise the impossible.

Genesis 18 is where we first meet God today. The Bible tells us that Abraham was a very old man, 99 years old, when this story begins. One hot afternoon he sat in the shade outside his tent when three strangers approached. Abraham was quick to offer them hospitality, and they sat together. One of them asked, “Where is Sarah your wife?” It soon became apparent to Abraham who his visitors were. God himself had dropped in for tea.

And God said he would return in another year, and by then Sarah would have a baby—the baby Abraham had been promised decades earlier. Remember, Abraham was now 99 and Sarah 89.

Now Sarah may have been too old to have a baby, at least by our standards, but there was nothing wrong with her hearing. When she heard God’s words she started to laugh. “Give me a break. At my age?” But there’s nothing the matter with God’s hearing, either. He replied, “Is anything too hard for God?”

Notice what he didn’t say—he didn’t say, “Well if that’s your attitude forget it.” He didn’t say “You calling me a liar?” and zap Sarah with a lightning bolt. He didn’t make a flashy splashy miracle and plop a baby into Sarah’s arms. He just said, “I made a promise, and I keep my promises. Wait and see.”

Nine months later, the power of God was made manifest in the baby Isaac. I’m sure you ladies would agree, God had done the impossible, causing a woman to give birth at age 90.

Let me ask you a similar question this morning: Do you believe in God? Do you believe that there’s anything impossible for our God to fix? Every one of us here has their own tough, difficult, downright impossible problems to solve. In the midst of them God is asking, “Do you think your problem is too tough for me to fix? Do you really believe I can work it out for you, even though you think it’s impossible?”

I’m here to tell you this morning that unless you believe in the God of the impossible, you don’t really believe in God at all. We all believe in God the maker of heaven and earth, or so we say, every Sunday in the words of the Apostle’s Creed. But do you believe that God wants to do the impossible in your life? Do you believe that God wants to fix what you think can’t be fixed, and may only be waiting for you to ask him to fix it? The Bible is clear: If we don’t believe this about him, we don’t trust him at all. I can hear you say, “Pastor, you don’t know what I have to deal with. You don’t know who I have to put up with. I’ve been waiting for a miracle for so long, and it hasn’t come.”

Nevertheless, in Luke 18, Jesus says, “The things which are impossible with men are always possible with God.” Do you believe that? Do you believe this promise from the Word? Do you believe that he can do the impossible: fix broken marriages and broken hearts, mend relationships, change hate into hope, and even bring peace to a shattered world like ours? If you believe it, will you say this with me: “I believe that nothing is impossible with God.”

At the end of the Book of Joshua, the leader of the Hebrew people gathers the people together and reminds them of everything that God had promised them, things that seemed to be impossible: escape from slavery, food and water in the desert, a home of their own. They all came true, abundantly true. And then he adds, “You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the Lord your God gave you has failed.” Every promise has been fulfilled. He ends his life and ministry by proclaiming that God has been faithful—not Joshua has been faithful, God has been faithful.

Now let me tell you one more story about God doing the impossible. Mark’s gospel describes a tragic tale, a father whose son has been possessed by demons since the boy was young. Many have tried to cast out the demons, but all have failed. And the demons weren’t content to just occupy this boy, they wanted to kill him, to throw him in the fire or into the lake. It truly looked impossible, but Jesus looked the man straight in the eye and said, “If you believe, all things are possible.”

Again, listen to what Jesus did not say: “Because of your lack of faith, no miracle for you.” If any of you watched Seinfeld, you might remember the Soup Nazi, a New York City chef who made great soup but wouldn’t sell it to people if he didn’t like their looks, yelling “No soup for you.”

  But that’s not what Jesus did. He seized on even that tiny little grain of faith within the father and used it. He ordered the demons to release the boy. And he gave him back to his father. What happened in that story? God used what was on hand and made the impossible happen. Think of it like blowing on a burning ember and nursing it into a bonfire. God wants to take even a tiny spark of faith within each of us and make the impossible happen, so that his plans, his purposes will be served.

  Here’s a little poem that expresses what I’m talking about, God waiting for that little spark to get started: “I asked God to take away my pride, and God said no. God said it was not for him to take away, but for me to give up.

I asked God to make my handicapped child whole, and God said, "No, her spirit is already whole. Her body is only temporary."

I asked God to grant me patience, and God said no. He said that patience is the byproduct of tribulation. It isn't granted; it's earned.

I asked God to give me happiness; God said no. God said he gives blessings; happiness is up to me.

I asked God if God loved me, and God said yes. He gave me his only son who died for me, and I will be in heaven some day because I believe.

I asked God to help me love others as much as God loves me, and he said “Finally, you’re starting to get the idea.”

Now getting back to Abraham and Sarah for a moment, why do you think God waited until Sarah was way, way too old to have a baby to make good on his promise? So that they would understand beyond the shadow of a doubt that God was doing the impossible here. He was doing what Abraham could not. In the same way, Jesus cast demons out of a boy and gave him back his life—he was doing what his disciples could not. And in turn, God raised Jesus from the dead and made him the Lord of Life. What to man is impossible, to God is always possible.

Now why have I been talking so much about the God of the impossible on a communion Sunday? I’m glad you asked.

Here’s what I’m thinking—sometimes the most impossible wonder of all is for God to change our hearts. How about it, folks? Don’t we get awfully locked into our attitudes, our thoughts and feelings? But when we come here to the table of our Lord Jesus Christ and humbly ask him to change us, his power flows into our lives and changes us not as we think we need to change, but as God thinks we need to change. The Roman centurion came to Jesus and said “Lord, I am not worthy that you should come to my house. Only say the word, and my servant will be healed.”

We can alter that to “Only say the word and I will be healed, wherever you think I need it.”

Now here’s the problem—in order for God to do the impossible, it is first necessary for us to believe that changing our life is really impossible. We need to be fully aware and not just aware, but weighted down, by the reality that we aren’t worthy for Christ to come into our lives. We need to be aware that we are sinners. When we take the Lord’s supper together this morning, we need to be totally open to what a miracle this is—that God cares enough about us to come to us in our state of sin and pick us up, set us on our feet and say “I forgive you. Be healed.”

God doesn’t ask you to believe in what is obvious, what everybody believes. He asks you to believe that he can do the impossible. That he can lift the mountain of guilt that is flattening your soul against the ground and that he can take away the love of sinning in your heart. The kingdom of God is not for the smug, the self-satisfied, the complacent. It is for the desperate—for the ones who know that they are drowning and understand that only Jesus Christ can save them.

It’s not comfortable to admit our sins. It’s not the way the world goes these days. But as difficult as it is, this is the door we must enter to peace. It’s not until we feel the full heaviness of our sins that we realize in shock that we can’t lift them off ourselves. It is only when we think how impossible it is for a holy God to accept us that we cry out for someone to save us. When you know how hopeless and close to death you really are, that’s when you are closest to salvation. When you laugh the hopeless laugh, that’s when you are closest to true faith. Because if our hearts can be broken this way, then we’ll be able to see not just what Christ has done for us, but we’ll be in a much better position to show others that he is their Lord and Savior, too.

What would an atheist hear in the way we speak? Would it be the wonder of an Abraham and Sarah who struggle to understand how God could have done such a wonder for them? Would they hear the awestruck joy of a father whose son was nearly destroyed by his inner demons and now was restored to him? Or would he hear indifference, a bored kind of belief that takes salvation as our due, our right? If we Christians don’t find this impossible love of God amazing, if we don’t communicate the fact that forgiveness of sins is stupendous, awesome, unbelievable—well, why would an atheist believe it?

We need to feel what Abraham and Sarah felt—that it was impossible for God to keep his promise. We need to feel what the father of a possessed boy felt—that it was impossible to save him from destruction. We need to laugh the way Sarah laughed—a dismissive laugh, a despairing laugh, a laugh of unbelief. Then when God does the impossible in our lives, that’s when we will know what good news really is. That’s when we’ll know how grand and glorious Jesus Christ really us, and the salvation he gives those who trust in him.