Becoming A Child
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
Good Stories: "Becoming A Child" by Frank Fisher
Sermon Starters: "My God Does Make Tornadoes" by Terry Cain
"Would Jesus Get A Divorce?" by Terry Cain
What's Up This Week
God does not make bad things happen to anyone. God created this world in which we live, but we, as humans, create the problems that confront us almost daily. We need to believe in the Father. In all things, being as a child will bless you and others, also.
Good Stories
Becoming A Child
By Frank Fisher
Your name's Judith. At five years old, you're the youngest daughter of two very poor parents. It's not easy being a poor child in first-century Judea. No one really seems to care about you.
That's especially true for the adults. For them, it's as if you didn't even exist. Perhaps, you think, they're not really sure you'll survive to adulthood. Or maybe they ignore you because you can't contribute anything toward your family's survival. Whatever the reason, you're well aware of a child's place in your society. It's a place, somewhere lower than the lepers who live outside your village, and since you're a daughter you know your place is even lower still. For every day you have to listen to your father and brothers as they give thanks to the Holy One that they were not born a female like you.
Yes, lots of things are hard for you. No one cares. No one wants to play with you. And no one even wants to sit down and talk with you. Honestly, your life stinks. Yet someday you think, all that's going to change.
But today, at the start of what looks like a day filled with brilliant sunshine you find yourself thinking how your future might not be so sparkling after all. It feels like you've been hating your life forever! And nothing' s changed for you during any part of your life.
So with your head bent in discouragement you trudge down the street toward the center of the village. You're walking with your head hung down in despair as your feet kick up dust whorls on the deserted street.
On the deserted street.
On the deserted street!
Wait a minute! This street's never deserted. It's always packed with people! Something different must be happening for once!
Those thoughts quickly run through your head. But before you can contemplate them you hear a commotion around the corner from where you're standing. Excitedly you run to the corner to find your way blocked by a huge crowd. It seems like the whole village is here! Quickly you find craning your head to see is practically useless. So you drop to your knees and begin to squirm your way toward the crowd's center. You pass rapidly in, around, and between the legs of the adults who stand between you and the center of the commotion.
At the crowd's core you find a man sitting amidst a circle of men and women. He looks like he's a rabbi who's sitting down to teach his disciples. Your eyes fill with tears at this great disappointment. For you know a rabbi will give you the exact same amount of attention as any other adult man. In other words, this guy's going to ignore you completely.
And now you find you've attracted the attention of the rabbi's disciples. "Go away," they tell you. "The Master's much too busy to have time for a child."
Wincing at all the shouting, you start to crawl your way back into the crowd. Then suddenly your forward motion is stopped as strong arms scoop you up into the air. And you find yourself face to face with the rabbi. You start to say you're sorry for disturbing his teaching. But your voice stops in mid sentence as you behold the most smiling, and attentive face you've ever seen on an adult.
The rabbi cradles you gently as he carries you to the center of the circle. And he sits down and holds you on his lap.
"What's your name my child?" he asks.
My child! His question and the words he's using makes it seem like he's adopting you. Others in the crowd sense that, too. For you hear gasps coming from all directions. For a moment you're afraid to answer. But the rabbi's loving look gives you courage. And haltingly you say your name's Judith.
"That's a fine name," the rabbi answers. "My name is Jesus. Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do in this village?"
You hesitate only for a second. Then your answer spills out as you tell Jesus about how everyone ignores you, and about how unhappy you are. He listens to your every word. And he talks with you for what seems like hours.
It's the first time an adult's ever treated you seriously. And apparently he takes the way you were treated as seriously as the way he himself treats you. For Jesus turns to the crowd and says, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."
Jesus hugs you tightly, places his hand on your head, and blesses you. Then he again lovingly speaks to you saying, "I must go now. But you'll always be my daughter. And I'll always be with you."
As he puts you down on the ground you wonder at his words for a moment. But then you realize, they are indeed true. For the feeling you had when he held you on his lap is still there. It's a feeling of incredible love.
You realize, too, everything's finally changed. For your parents take you by the hand and lead you back to your home. And all along the way you see adults stopping to talk, laugh, and play with every child they meet. Its as if in Jesus' love they've become children again. And you know in a small but very important way, the kingdom of God has come to your village.
Your name is Clarence. At 85 years old, you're one of the oldest people attending worship in your congregation. It's not easy being an older member of your church; no one really seems to care a lot about you.
That's especially true for the children. For them, it's as if you didn't even exist. Perhaps, you think, they believe you're a bit crabby. But you're not crabby. You're just a bit irritable sometimes.
The children could also ignore you, you understand when you're being honest to yourself, because you ignore them. Whatever the reason, you're well aware of who should be a part of your church. More importantly you're well aware of who should be a part of your worship.
For you, worship is a place where children's noise should not intrude. It's a place for adults and not a place for children.
Today, you're particularly upset. It started out to be such a beautiful and sunny Sunday morning. But when you arrived at church, you found something had changed. You don't like change. And you especially don't like this change. For your church's Session decided today is the very first day children will be included in the whole worship service.
"Why can't they stay in child care where they belong?" you beseech the Elders.
"All God's people belong in worship," came back the unwelcome reply.
It would be bad enough, you thought, if the kids were elsewhere in the sanctuary. But when you turn to look beside you in the pew you can readily see you're surrounded. They're all over the place. You continue to grouch about their presence and their wiggling silently to yourself. Your anger takes your mind off the service, and before you know it its time for communion.
As the liturgy begins, one of your young pew companions pokes you in the side. "Jesus is here with us," the young boy says to you. "He loves you, just as he loves me."
The boy's words take you aback for a moment. And in your confusion you don't see that a young girl sitting on your other side's trying to pass you the communion bread. "The body of Christ, broken for you," she tells you. And she holds on to the plate until she's served you the bread.
There's something very wrong here, you tell yourself. You, the adult, are supposed to be the one who knows how to worship. But you've been so busy being angry you've missed most of the service. And these young children, they're the ones you thought should not belong. Yet they're the ones who're helping you worship today.
As you eat the bread, you bow your head in sadness. For you realize your attitude has shut you off from your sisters and brothers. Perhaps, you understand, its been shutting you off from Christ as well. And as you dwell on that fact for a moment, it seems like you hear a voice speaking only to you.
"Let the little children come to me," the voice says. "Do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."
Then you feel something from both sides, and you look up to find the children on either side of you have reached out to hold your hand. You feel in their grips a feeling of incredible love. And you realize everything's changed in your worship. For the children hold you firmly by the hand as you continue to worship. A worship suddenly filled with the wonder of being in God's presence. Then as you leave the church, you stop and ask a very surprised Elder how you can sign up to be a Sunday school teacher.
Yes everything's changed. And it has changed for the better. From the love of children you've become like a child again. For through these children you've rediscovered the love of Christ and the wonder of worship. And you know in a small but very important way, the kingdom of God has come to your church on this day.
Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB, is a second-career interim/transitional pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA). He currently serves as the interim pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Bushnell, Illinois. During the final years of his first career as a paramedic and administrator for the Chicago Fire Department, Fisher graduated from McCormick Theological Seminary and was ordained. He is an Oblate of the ecumenical Abbey of John the Baptist and Saint Benedict in Bartonville, Illinois, where he has joined the rapidly growing number of those who are called to follow Saint Benedict's rule.
Sermon Starters
My God Does Make Tornadoes
By Terry Cain
Job 1:1; 2:1-10
We need to stop blaming God for natural calamities.
Inevitably, following a natural disaster such as a tornado, earthquake, or flood, some Christian pastor or layperson will make a remark citing God as responsible. They may say, "We don't know why God destroyed that community, but He (sic) must have had some good reason." Such misguided or twisted theology is good reason for the need to have sound religious education. Such statements reflect a more conservative theology. Fundamentalists tend to blame God for terrible destruction and loss of life.
A. Tornadoes cause theological confusion. They do more than physical damage and destroy lives; they can be seriously misunderstood, theologically. When God is blamed for taking may lives through a natural disaster, some Christians have even abandoned their faith. They say they cannot believe in nor worship such a cruel god. We have all heard of parents who lost a child in a flood or other natural disaster and because they have been raised theologically to believe that God was responsible, they "cursed God" and gave up their faith, exactly what Job's wife told him to do (Job 2:9). Other Christians, less angry or bitter, may only be confused concerning the nature of God and God's love. Who is worse off, the person who believes something unconscionable about God, or the person who becomes angry and gives up the faith?
B. Tornadoes are not "warnings" or "lessons." If any explanation is ever offered by a well-meaning pastor or other Christian as to why God would do something disastrous, it usually sounds like this: 1. "God is punishing us for our sins." This means the people who died were very wicked and we survived because we aren't as sinful or we just haven't gotten ours yet. The truth is we are punished for our sins, not by floods and tornadoes. Punishments may come as heart disease for the sin of not taking care of our bodies or automobile accidents for the sin of not driving carefully. But God had nothing to do with it. It is a cause and effect consequence "built into the nature of life."
Or we may be told, 2. "This is a warning from God to repent and turn back to God." God does not plan and cause intentional tragedy to teach us lessons. God does not send a tornado and kill a few people to wake the rest of us up. That would be like a parent coaxing their little child's favorite puppy into the street where the neighbor was instructed to run over it with their car to teach the child how dangerous crossing streets can be. Of course, lessons can be gleaned from tragic events, but they were not sent intentionally for such a purpose.
C. Tornadoes aren't created by God. If God doesn't make tornadoes, who does? God created nature as a part of the world and set it free. Hurricanes, earthquakes, and other natural disasters happen as events in nature and are not inherently evil. They are not bad unless we get in the way. Similarly, God created us and set us free to do what we choose, and this may entail doing evil to others. It is not God doing the evil; it is simply possible in the world.
(Lions and Cows Dining Together, Terry Cain, CSS Publishing Co., Inc. 2005, pp. 55-56.)
Would Jesus Get A Divorce?
By Terry Cain
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
This is a very difficult subject, but there is such a high percentage of persons who are divorced, divorced and remarried, or contemplating divorce, that it merits our attention.
Surely, many church members are confused over when and if divorce is right. Surely, ministers have bad divorced members ask, "Am I living in sin?" The subject is made more difficult because it is hard to understand the position Jesus took. Mark 10:1-12 seems to be Jesus' definitive word on the subject. His position appears to be: There should be no divorce (vv. 8-9), and anyone divorcing and remarrying is guilty of adultery (vv. 11-12). Other addenda would include: a man(sic) who, apparently, has never married commits adultery by marrying a divorced woman (Luke 16-18), and in Matthew 22:23-30 Jesus seems to say nothing to challenge the Jewish tradition of a man marrying his brother's widow. What should the Christian's position be?
First, if not totally prohibited, divorce should be an extreme last resort. Jesus stresses the importance and beauty in the rich relationship of marriage where two become one. Divorce reflects failure at some point, and it creates a host of problems, which are especially compounded when there are children. In a day and age when everyone is talking about family values, it is easy to see that greater numbers of divorce reflect not just families with problems, but a society that has serious problems. Divorce destroys potentially beautiful relationships, or more accurately, is the culmination of a destroyed relationships. Currently, we stress exploring all other avenues before seeking divorce.
Second, it may be a matter of a "higher" principle taking precedence. There are times when two principles clash and one must choose between them. In this case it would be choosing between the sin of divorce and the sin of people destroying each other in a disastrous relationship. One could, perhaps, obtain Jesus' approval of divorce by some creative interpreting. When Jesus says, "What God has joined together," we could claim a broken relationship was never "joined by God" no matter who said the vows.
Third, how do you resolve the problem of a divorced person contemplating remarriage? The reason for Jesus or the church's caution is that at some point a series of divorces and remarriages becomes simply promiscuity. It would seem there is some limit to whether these marriages are real relationships. Unless one has a more creative way of sidestepping Jesus, one may have to say, "It may be wrong, but I am doing it!"
Fourth, once a divorced person remarries, the problem shouldn't be compounded with another divorce. The sins of the past are forgiven and forgotten. When people ask me if they are living in sin, I reply that it is a new life from today forward and a fresh start when sins are forgiven. God doesn't want another broken relationship.
Finally, as mentioned above, Jesus apparently doesn't condemn widows and widowers who remarry.
(Shaking Wolves Out Of Cherry Trees, Terry Cain, CSS Publishing Co., Inc., 2002, pp. 169-170.)
Terry Cain is a retired United Methodist pastor who served his entire ministry in eastern Nebraska, including 25 years in Lincoln. He is the author of Shaking Wolves Out of Cherry Trees and Lions and Cows Dining Together. Cain is a graduate of Nebraska Wesleyan University (B.A.), St. Paul School of Theology in Kansas City (M.Div.), and San Francisco Theological Seminary (D.Min.).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and email the story to us.
**************
StoryShare, October 8, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
Good Stories: "Becoming A Child" by Frank Fisher
Sermon Starters: "My God Does Make Tornadoes" by Terry Cain
"Would Jesus Get A Divorce?" by Terry Cain
What's Up This Week
God does not make bad things happen to anyone. God created this world in which we live, but we, as humans, create the problems that confront us almost daily. We need to believe in the Father. In all things, being as a child will bless you and others, also.
Good Stories
Becoming A Child
By Frank Fisher
Your name's Judith. At five years old, you're the youngest daughter of two very poor parents. It's not easy being a poor child in first-century Judea. No one really seems to care about you.
That's especially true for the adults. For them, it's as if you didn't even exist. Perhaps, you think, they're not really sure you'll survive to adulthood. Or maybe they ignore you because you can't contribute anything toward your family's survival. Whatever the reason, you're well aware of a child's place in your society. It's a place, somewhere lower than the lepers who live outside your village, and since you're a daughter you know your place is even lower still. For every day you have to listen to your father and brothers as they give thanks to the Holy One that they were not born a female like you.
Yes, lots of things are hard for you. No one cares. No one wants to play with you. And no one even wants to sit down and talk with you. Honestly, your life stinks. Yet someday you think, all that's going to change.
But today, at the start of what looks like a day filled with brilliant sunshine you find yourself thinking how your future might not be so sparkling after all. It feels like you've been hating your life forever! And nothing' s changed for you during any part of your life.
So with your head bent in discouragement you trudge down the street toward the center of the village. You're walking with your head hung down in despair as your feet kick up dust whorls on the deserted street.
On the deserted street.
On the deserted street!
Wait a minute! This street's never deserted. It's always packed with people! Something different must be happening for once!
Those thoughts quickly run through your head. But before you can contemplate them you hear a commotion around the corner from where you're standing. Excitedly you run to the corner to find your way blocked by a huge crowd. It seems like the whole village is here! Quickly you find craning your head to see is practically useless. So you drop to your knees and begin to squirm your way toward the crowd's center. You pass rapidly in, around, and between the legs of the adults who stand between you and the center of the commotion.
At the crowd's core you find a man sitting amidst a circle of men and women. He looks like he's a rabbi who's sitting down to teach his disciples. Your eyes fill with tears at this great disappointment. For you know a rabbi will give you the exact same amount of attention as any other adult man. In other words, this guy's going to ignore you completely.
And now you find you've attracted the attention of the rabbi's disciples. "Go away," they tell you. "The Master's much too busy to have time for a child."
Wincing at all the shouting, you start to crawl your way back into the crowd. Then suddenly your forward motion is stopped as strong arms scoop you up into the air. And you find yourself face to face with the rabbi. You start to say you're sorry for disturbing his teaching. But your voice stops in mid sentence as you behold the most smiling, and attentive face you've ever seen on an adult.
The rabbi cradles you gently as he carries you to the center of the circle. And he sits down and holds you on his lap.
"What's your name my child?" he asks.
My child! His question and the words he's using makes it seem like he's adopting you. Others in the crowd sense that, too. For you hear gasps coming from all directions. For a moment you're afraid to answer. But the rabbi's loving look gives you courage. And haltingly you say your name's Judith.
"That's a fine name," the rabbi answers. "My name is Jesus. Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do in this village?"
You hesitate only for a second. Then your answer spills out as you tell Jesus about how everyone ignores you, and about how unhappy you are. He listens to your every word. And he talks with you for what seems like hours.
It's the first time an adult's ever treated you seriously. And apparently he takes the way you were treated as seriously as the way he himself treats you. For Jesus turns to the crowd and says, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."
Jesus hugs you tightly, places his hand on your head, and blesses you. Then he again lovingly speaks to you saying, "I must go now. But you'll always be my daughter. And I'll always be with you."
As he puts you down on the ground you wonder at his words for a moment. But then you realize, they are indeed true. For the feeling you had when he held you on his lap is still there. It's a feeling of incredible love.
You realize, too, everything's finally changed. For your parents take you by the hand and lead you back to your home. And all along the way you see adults stopping to talk, laugh, and play with every child they meet. Its as if in Jesus' love they've become children again. And you know in a small but very important way, the kingdom of God has come to your village.
Your name is Clarence. At 85 years old, you're one of the oldest people attending worship in your congregation. It's not easy being an older member of your church; no one really seems to care a lot about you.
That's especially true for the children. For them, it's as if you didn't even exist. Perhaps, you think, they believe you're a bit crabby. But you're not crabby. You're just a bit irritable sometimes.
The children could also ignore you, you understand when you're being honest to yourself, because you ignore them. Whatever the reason, you're well aware of who should be a part of your church. More importantly you're well aware of who should be a part of your worship.
For you, worship is a place where children's noise should not intrude. It's a place for adults and not a place for children.
Today, you're particularly upset. It started out to be such a beautiful and sunny Sunday morning. But when you arrived at church, you found something had changed. You don't like change. And you especially don't like this change. For your church's Session decided today is the very first day children will be included in the whole worship service.
"Why can't they stay in child care where they belong?" you beseech the Elders.
"All God's people belong in worship," came back the unwelcome reply.
It would be bad enough, you thought, if the kids were elsewhere in the sanctuary. But when you turn to look beside you in the pew you can readily see you're surrounded. They're all over the place. You continue to grouch about their presence and their wiggling silently to yourself. Your anger takes your mind off the service, and before you know it its time for communion.
As the liturgy begins, one of your young pew companions pokes you in the side. "Jesus is here with us," the young boy says to you. "He loves you, just as he loves me."
The boy's words take you aback for a moment. And in your confusion you don't see that a young girl sitting on your other side's trying to pass you the communion bread. "The body of Christ, broken for you," she tells you. And she holds on to the plate until she's served you the bread.
There's something very wrong here, you tell yourself. You, the adult, are supposed to be the one who knows how to worship. But you've been so busy being angry you've missed most of the service. And these young children, they're the ones you thought should not belong. Yet they're the ones who're helping you worship today.
As you eat the bread, you bow your head in sadness. For you realize your attitude has shut you off from your sisters and brothers. Perhaps, you understand, its been shutting you off from Christ as well. And as you dwell on that fact for a moment, it seems like you hear a voice speaking only to you.
"Let the little children come to me," the voice says. "Do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."
Then you feel something from both sides, and you look up to find the children on either side of you have reached out to hold your hand. You feel in their grips a feeling of incredible love. And you realize everything's changed in your worship. For the children hold you firmly by the hand as you continue to worship. A worship suddenly filled with the wonder of being in God's presence. Then as you leave the church, you stop and ask a very surprised Elder how you can sign up to be a Sunday school teacher.
Yes everything's changed. And it has changed for the better. From the love of children you've become like a child again. For through these children you've rediscovered the love of Christ and the wonder of worship. And you know in a small but very important way, the kingdom of God has come to your church on this day.
Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB, is a second-career interim/transitional pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA). He currently serves as the interim pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Bushnell, Illinois. During the final years of his first career as a paramedic and administrator for the Chicago Fire Department, Fisher graduated from McCormick Theological Seminary and was ordained. He is an Oblate of the ecumenical Abbey of John the Baptist and Saint Benedict in Bartonville, Illinois, where he has joined the rapidly growing number of those who are called to follow Saint Benedict's rule.
Sermon Starters
My God Does Make Tornadoes
By Terry Cain
Job 1:1; 2:1-10
We need to stop blaming God for natural calamities.
Inevitably, following a natural disaster such as a tornado, earthquake, or flood, some Christian pastor or layperson will make a remark citing God as responsible. They may say, "We don't know why God destroyed that community, but He (sic) must have had some good reason." Such misguided or twisted theology is good reason for the need to have sound religious education. Such statements reflect a more conservative theology. Fundamentalists tend to blame God for terrible destruction and loss of life.
A. Tornadoes cause theological confusion. They do more than physical damage and destroy lives; they can be seriously misunderstood, theologically. When God is blamed for taking may lives through a natural disaster, some Christians have even abandoned their faith. They say they cannot believe in nor worship such a cruel god. We have all heard of parents who lost a child in a flood or other natural disaster and because they have been raised theologically to believe that God was responsible, they "cursed God" and gave up their faith, exactly what Job's wife told him to do (Job 2:9). Other Christians, less angry or bitter, may only be confused concerning the nature of God and God's love. Who is worse off, the person who believes something unconscionable about God, or the person who becomes angry and gives up the faith?
B. Tornadoes are not "warnings" or "lessons." If any explanation is ever offered by a well-meaning pastor or other Christian as to why God would do something disastrous, it usually sounds like this: 1. "God is punishing us for our sins." This means the people who died were very wicked and we survived because we aren't as sinful or we just haven't gotten ours yet. The truth is we are punished for our sins, not by floods and tornadoes. Punishments may come as heart disease for the sin of not taking care of our bodies or automobile accidents for the sin of not driving carefully. But God had nothing to do with it. It is a cause and effect consequence "built into the nature of life."
Or we may be told, 2. "This is a warning from God to repent and turn back to God." God does not plan and cause intentional tragedy to teach us lessons. God does not send a tornado and kill a few people to wake the rest of us up. That would be like a parent coaxing their little child's favorite puppy into the street where the neighbor was instructed to run over it with their car to teach the child how dangerous crossing streets can be. Of course, lessons can be gleaned from tragic events, but they were not sent intentionally for such a purpose.
C. Tornadoes aren't created by God. If God doesn't make tornadoes, who does? God created nature as a part of the world and set it free. Hurricanes, earthquakes, and other natural disasters happen as events in nature and are not inherently evil. They are not bad unless we get in the way. Similarly, God created us and set us free to do what we choose, and this may entail doing evil to others. It is not God doing the evil; it is simply possible in the world.
(Lions and Cows Dining Together, Terry Cain, CSS Publishing Co., Inc. 2005, pp. 55-56.)
Would Jesus Get A Divorce?
By Terry Cain
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
This is a very difficult subject, but there is such a high percentage of persons who are divorced, divorced and remarried, or contemplating divorce, that it merits our attention.
Surely, many church members are confused over when and if divorce is right. Surely, ministers have bad divorced members ask, "Am I living in sin?" The subject is made more difficult because it is hard to understand the position Jesus took. Mark 10:1-12 seems to be Jesus' definitive word on the subject. His position appears to be: There should be no divorce (vv. 8-9), and anyone divorcing and remarrying is guilty of adultery (vv. 11-12). Other addenda would include: a man(sic) who, apparently, has never married commits adultery by marrying a divorced woman (Luke 16-18), and in Matthew 22:23-30 Jesus seems to say nothing to challenge the Jewish tradition of a man marrying his brother's widow. What should the Christian's position be?
First, if not totally prohibited, divorce should be an extreme last resort. Jesus stresses the importance and beauty in the rich relationship of marriage where two become one. Divorce reflects failure at some point, and it creates a host of problems, which are especially compounded when there are children. In a day and age when everyone is talking about family values, it is easy to see that greater numbers of divorce reflect not just families with problems, but a society that has serious problems. Divorce destroys potentially beautiful relationships, or more accurately, is the culmination of a destroyed relationships. Currently, we stress exploring all other avenues before seeking divorce.
Second, it may be a matter of a "higher" principle taking precedence. There are times when two principles clash and one must choose between them. In this case it would be choosing between the sin of divorce and the sin of people destroying each other in a disastrous relationship. One could, perhaps, obtain Jesus' approval of divorce by some creative interpreting. When Jesus says, "What God has joined together," we could claim a broken relationship was never "joined by God" no matter who said the vows.
Third, how do you resolve the problem of a divorced person contemplating remarriage? The reason for Jesus or the church's caution is that at some point a series of divorces and remarriages becomes simply promiscuity. It would seem there is some limit to whether these marriages are real relationships. Unless one has a more creative way of sidestepping Jesus, one may have to say, "It may be wrong, but I am doing it!"
Fourth, once a divorced person remarries, the problem shouldn't be compounded with another divorce. The sins of the past are forgiven and forgotten. When people ask me if they are living in sin, I reply that it is a new life from today forward and a fresh start when sins are forgiven. God doesn't want another broken relationship.
Finally, as mentioned above, Jesus apparently doesn't condemn widows and widowers who remarry.
(Shaking Wolves Out Of Cherry Trees, Terry Cain, CSS Publishing Co., Inc., 2002, pp. 169-170.)
Terry Cain is a retired United Methodist pastor who served his entire ministry in eastern Nebraska, including 25 years in Lincoln. He is the author of Shaking Wolves Out of Cherry Trees and Lions and Cows Dining Together. Cain is a graduate of Nebraska Wesleyan University (B.A.), St. Paul School of Theology in Kansas City (M.Div.), and San Francisco Theological Seminary (D.Min.).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and email the story to us.
**************
StoryShare, October 8, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
