Today we conclude our sermon series on Overcoming Life’s Hurts. The theme of today’s message is “Emptiness.” I have sub-titled it: “When God is silent.”

Very few people come to see me or Scott or Ruth because of something God has said to them. People come seeking some relief in their spiritual uneasiness because they can’t get God to say anything at all. They pray for answers, for guidance, for peace, but they still come up empty-handed. They listen during worship and hear the leaders say: “God is always present. God is great and God is good. God heals. God comforts. God cares about you.” They want this kind of God in their lives. They want God to answer the difficult questions, to be present in times of pain, to speak to them.

This isn’t crazy. The Bible they read reveals a God who not only speaks but who also takes action. The faithful receive what they ask for: children, bread, land, health. By implication, those who do not receive are not faithful. This is our fear, that God’s silence can mean only one thing.

Empty souls and a silent God can be very frightening.

Some of the hardest times in our lives are when God seems to be a million miles away and it doesn’t seem to matter if we pray longer or harder, it still seems as if we get the silent treatment. And we ask again and again: where are you, God? Why me?

Maybe right now you have a situation in your life and you’re wondering where God is. Maybe it’s an illness you deal with and you’re wondering if God notices. Maybe its children you’re dealing with or aging parents and you’ve asked God for help, but your child just dives deeper into rebellion and your parents sink deeper into depression. Maybe you’ve been abused, mistreated, neglected and the pain is deep and it just won’t go away and you wonder if God cares. Maybe you have a decision that you need to make but there is no clear picture as to what you should do. And God is not helping you see what you should do. Maybe in your life right now God is silent.

And it’s not fair. There is often no reason for the emptiness of some and the happiness of others. Our universe is hardly a safe place; it is unpredictable and insecure, resulting in our asking the questions over and over: “Where’s God in all this? And why is this happening to me?”

If God is great and God is good, why am I so empty? Why am I so lonely? Why am I so _____________? (You fill in the blank yourself). God must hear these questions a lot. Some people will respond to your frustration with: “if you had faith, you wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions.” Somehow they have this idea that it’s disrespectful to God if we ask questions.

Here’s what I think. Asking the question of “where are you, God?” is a statement of faith. If I am created in the image of God, then God and I are connected and questions are in order. I think anyone who dares to believe dares to ask questions of God.

The Bible certainly does. In the 22nd psalm:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
    Why are you so far from saving me?
My God, I cry out day and night, but you don’t answer. You remain silent.

Jesus quoted that Psalm from the cross. The whole book of Job is about this. Jeremiah and the prophets cry this out all the time. So it seems that our questions of pain, emptiness, loneliness are acceptable.

Here’s what I know about emptiness and where I believe God is taking us:

1. "We may never understand God’s plan for us completely. We may never truly understand God’s plan. God never promises that we are to fully understand what God is doing. God just wants us to trust.

   In the movie, The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom tells of an event during WWII that really strengthened her trust in God. The ten Booms were Christians in Holland and they helped the Dutch Underground rescue Jews from death at the hands of the Nazis. The family never forced conversion on the Jews … and they even provided kosher food and honored the Sabbath and tried to provide safety and comfort. The Germans caught on to their schemes and arrested the entire ten Boom family and sent them to concentration camps. Corrie and her sister, Betsy, were sent to Ravensbruck, a women’s camp in Germany. The barracks they were assigned were not only over-crowded but flea-infested. As Corrie lay in the straw she made for a bed, not only was she suffocated by human bodies, but fleas bit away at her skin and she got so frustrated, she complained loudly to God: “Why fleas? Haven’t I been through enough? I can take anything but fleas. You must have been joking, God, when you created the flea.”

   It was there in Ravensbruck that Corrie and Betsy were able to start a Bible study. It was strictly against the rules to study scripture and if the guards discovered them, death was certain. But to Corrie’s surprise, the Bible study group got larger and larger and nobody – none of the guards – ever interrupted. They never came into the barracks. After weeks and weeks of Bible study, Corrie and Betsy finally found out why. One of them overheard a guard say, “We don’t go in there because of the fleas.” Corrie had no patience for fleas and really couldn’t understand the reason for their existence, but it all made sense to her at that moment.

   We may never truly understand God’s plan for us but sometimes we are allowed glimpses.

2. God’s time is not our time. We rely far too much on chronos: our time than we do kairos: God’s time. In our humanness we try to understand or interpret what God is doing because we believe everything has a place in the schedule … and we believe we’re in control of that schedule. We schedule everything from the birth of our babies to the day of our death (or we try to). We resent intrusion, inconvenience, and interruptions. So when we try to schedule how long we should grieve or how long we feel God should be silent, we really limit what God can do and we end up disappointed and discouraged. God is eternal. We best not define God according to our schedule. I think we need to accept God’s timing, because God’s timing is perfect.

3. Sometimes silence is the only response we have to God’s silence. When I was younger my best friend’s dad committed suicide. It was devastating. My mom kept asking me when I was going to call Karen. “I can’t, because I don’t know what to say.” My mother berated me for a day or two and my response was always that same: I don’t know what to say. My mother did what all good mothers do. She put me in the car and drove me to Karen’s house. She said, “Get out.” I was terrified. Again, I said, “what will I say?” My mother, in her wisdom, responded: “you don’t have to say anything.” I spent the week at Karen’s house, only going home to change clothes. I didn’t say much and it seemed like the most natural response in the world. Silence at that time was the best way to respond to God’s silence in Karen’s life because sometimes we talk too much.

Today we conclude our sermon series on overcoming life’s hurts. Next week we begin the season of Lent. It seems appropriate then that as we move into a new season to remember two things: the death of Jesus on the cross, and the empty tomb on Easter morning. Two events in the life of Jesus Christ that teach us two very valuable life lessons.

1. When God is silent we aren’t being neglected or forsaken. When God seems absent, God may be the closest. That’s the lesson of the Cross.

2. When God seems all but dead, God may be preparing a miracle. God will not allow our emptiness, or our pain, to be the final word. GOD WILL NOT ALLOW OUR EMPTINESS, OR OUR PAIN, TO BE THE FINAL WORD. That’s the lesson of the empty tomb.

One of the most discouraging and depressing places to be is tired, alone and empty. We’ve all been there. We’ve all been overwhelmed by life and by our circumstances. In reality, emptiness weighs us down. Emptiness overwhelms us. Emptiness is a burden. From the Gospel of Matthew, these words of Jesus:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Now listen to it from the Message, the translation we use today:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace (kairos time). I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

Amen