River Road Church Baptist

October 12, 2003

Austin Dennis

“The Saturday Faithful”

Job 2:1-6 and John 20:11-16

Today we begin thinking about Fridays in a different way than before. No longer will we think of them as the good day of the week when we get off of work and we have time with friends and family. No longer will we think of Friday as the day that’s good during the week because you’ve been in school for 24 years of your life. We get rid of those thoughts about Friday today. Sometimes Friday is bad. Sometimes on Friday darkness covers the earth and friends abandon and doubts become heavy. Sometimes on Friday we see centurions with mouths wide open. We see curtains tearing and hear lambs screaming because Friday is the day when pain floods in and everything becomes soaked in suffering.

I met a friend on Friday once. His name was Job. When I approached him, he was sitting in a pile of ashes. His face was sad. I said, “Job, what happened?” And he said, “Everything bad that could have happened.” I said, “What does that mean?” He said, “Well, my children are all dead. All of my possessions have been stolen. Everything I counted dear has been taken from me. It would be better if I had never been born.” And I said, “Job, Why? Who?” And he said, “It was the Satan, but God let it happen.” And I said, “Well, then, what did you do to deserve it?” And he said nothing. Absolutely nothing. He said, “There’s a book about it. They named it after me. You can pick it up and read it and you can see for yourself that God let it happen for no reason.” And I said, “No reason?!” And Job said, “No reason!”

So I went and got the book of Job and I turned it to those words and they were there. Chapter 2 verse 3—for no reason. I couldn’t believe it! Have you seen them? The Satan appears before God and he asks God, “Can I tempt Job to curse you?” And God says, “My servant Job, for no reason?” And the Satan said, “Yes, Job, for no reason.” And do you know what God said? “Very well.” So the pain began. Job’s life, his theology, everything in utter ruins, and that was just the beginning.

Have you ever had a day like that? Have you ever had a day that you could say, ah, this could be my own personal Good Friday?! Perhaps it was the day when your theology, the foundations of your theology, were swept up from underneath you. Maybe it was the day when they placed a crown of thorns on your head for doing what you thought was right. Or could it have been the day when you lost a loved one and tombs were sealed?

I remember the spring of 2002. I was a chaplain at Henrico Doctors’ Hospital just down the road. The chaplain coordinator had given me a list of names to go to visit. The only authority I had was a nametag I had which said ‘chaplain’, and a coat and tie. Two and a half hours passed, I finished the list, I came back to the chaplain office, got ready to leave, and a nurse came in. She said, “Mack, I need you down in 305. There’s an elderly woman in there who just found out that she has a few months to live. Her family’s not here yet. Go and check on her.” I got to the room. She was sitting there; I sat with her, we talked, we prayed—I prayed, she didn’t say anything. Then I left. I left Job sitting there. Do you ever say prayers when an ambulance goes by? I don’t know when the habit started, but now I do. I guess it’s out of concern. I don’t get in the car and follow the ambulance to see what happens, but now I live on a busy street and I hear ambulances blaring by all the time, loud ones, lots of them, and every time I think and I pray and I say, “There goes Job.”

If you’ve had a day like that and you’ve lived through Friday, but it’s the next day that’s even more difficult. The next sunrise brings a day requiring all of your faith. The next sunrise brings Saturday. Most of us have comfortable lives. I read in the news this week that 1/6 th of the people in the world live in slums. In comparison to them, one billion people, our lives are a cinch. But that does not protect us from dirty deals handed down from the heavens where all are susceptible. As our own Dr. Sherman tells his students, “We’re all close to the fall.” Yes, inevitably, something will happen that slaps us in the face and when we have finished spinning around and come to a stop, the first words out of our mouths are, “God, why did this happen?” We sit on Saturday with our stars and our memories and wonder. Could it have been for no reason? Would you believe it if Job looked at you and said, “It happened for no reason.”

In the past year I’ve been to four funerals—all cancer related. One of those was for my grandfather. He was 81. I thought he would live to be 105 and if right living was how you got to be 105, granddaddy would have been 108. It had a powerful effect on me. Why? Because it’s hard to make sense out of his being a good man and watching the cancer. You’ve seen it; you know what happens. He was just good, decent, a patriarch of our family. Small in stature, but his presence could fill up a room. Aand when he spoke I heard nothing else. Most of the time what he said was funny. A story that I’ve heard 50 or more times in my family is the time when my aunt Jane and he were walking into the kitchen. There was always a radio playing. Always tuned to Big Band. They walked in and there was a voice singing and granddaddy said, “Well, that guy sure can’t sing! And Jane said, “Yes, granddaddy, that’s because it’s Kermit the frog.” Funny by accident. But then cancer and life turned toward Saturday for my family and me. Am I saying God was up to something? I don’t know about that, but theology gets tricky. I have read Job and I have seen the words for no reason. And now it’s Saturday in my house because I’ve been forced to ask God some tough questions and that’s hard. It’s hard to say to God, “Are you behind this?” It’s hard to say the words to God, “I know it wasn’t your idea, but did you let it happen?” That’s tough! And that’s Saturday—asking tough questions.

Who are the Saturday faithful? I believe the Saturday faithful are those who have been hit hard, but who have not given up on God. They’re the ones who have heard rumors of a Sunday resurrection, but they still have broken hearts. Who are the Saturday faithful? They are the ones who love God enough to doubt. They’re the ones holding Job’s hand, asking vulnerable questions, holding no prayer back because it is the most vulnerable questions that rise out of only the deepest wells of faith. Are we Saturday faithful? We can all wonder, because sometimes it’s hard to visualize a Sunday. I believe Jesus rose from the dead on a Sunday morning. But sometimes, we have to think about that. Stuck in a world of Saturday thoughts, will Sunday ever come?

I met a friend on Sunday once. Her name was Mary Magdalene and when I saw her she was walking to a tomb and her face was sad because she had been crying and I said, “Mary, what’s the matter?” And she said, “They crucified my Lord.” And I said, “You mean Jesus, the one that died on Friday?” And she said, “Yes. They killed him for no reason. But he was the only one who ever loved me without needing a reason.” And I said, “Is that so?” She said, “Yes, but now he’s gone.” And I said, “Mary, don’t you know that the same God behind for no reason is the same God in front of us leading us home?” But she wasn’t paying attention because a man was walking toward her and I looked at her and I said, “Mary, who is that?” She said, “That’s Jesus.” And I said, “You mean Jesus, the one who died on Friday?” And she said, “Yes. He’s alive!”

CES; Lisa King, mt