The Severe Mercy of God
Notes
Transcript
Prayer
The Idea of Severe Mercy
Sheldon Vanauken wrote a book published in 1977 entitled, A Severe Mercy: A Story of Faith, Tragedy and Triumph, chronicling his journey of faith in Jesus Christ - which indeed had great tragedy and great triumph.
The first part of the story focuses on Van (as he was known), and his relationship with Jean Davis, or Davy. They met and quickly fell in love. But this was no ordinary relationship - their love, as they saw it, was to be a love that the gods themselves would look upon and wonder at the beauty of it. They regarded themselves as pagans, but in Van’s words, “It was a high paganism. We worshiped the spirits of earth and sky; we adored the mysteries of beauty and love.”
They believed that human love was the highest ideal, and they wanted to make theirs as intimate and connected as possible - by a thousand different strands. They envisioned a shield to protect their love from all intruders - a shield they called the “Shining Barrier.”
If this sounds a little hoity-toity - it was, they clearly were great romantics and considered themselves quite the intellectuals (and not without reason - they were very intelligent). And Christianity, they believed, belonged to the simple-minded. That is until they moved to Oxford, England to study and there encountered some very thoughtful Christians, C.S. Lewis included. And through those friendships, they became believers, they began to follow Jesus Christ.
And here’s where the significant problems arose - because Davy was all in. Faith in Jesus came easily to her, not as much to Van. And here’s the thing about becoming a follower of Jesus - as Van writes, “It is not possible to be ‘incidentally a Christian.’ The fact of Christianity must be overwhelming first or nothing.”
And it was first for Davy. She loved Jesus with a passion. And because she was all in on Jesus, the shining barrier was breached. Something - someone - Jesus - had broken through their exclusive protective shield. And Van’s resentment grew. He would not have been able to name it, but he had become jealous of Jesus. Felt Davy’s devotion to Jesus was taking her away from him.
Then great tragedy struck. Davy contracted a virus that destroyed her liver. That led to a protracted illness and ultimately, death. So now Van was left to struggle what to make of the God of whom he had been jealous, and who had now taken his beloved Davy from him.
His struggle of faith is revealed in a series of letters between Van and C.S. Lewis, who helped him through the crisis of faith. And it’s hugely instructive to hear one of the things Lewis says to him - he writes in one letter, “You have been treated with a severe mercy.” Mercy? Davy’s death was an act of mercy?!
Lewis explained it this way - he believed that Vanauken’s struggles came about because he had made their love an idol - and it was killing his faith. In this scenario, something was going to die - either the idol or the faith. The worst option would have been for faith to die while Davy and Van kept on living.
As difficult as this was to hear, Vanauken came to recognize the truth of it - and his faith flourished as a result. He writes, “That death, so full of suffering for us both, suffering that still overwhelmed my life, was yet a severe mercy. A mercy severe as death, a severity as merciful as love.”
I want to stop and reflect on what he is saying here - because this is not the type of truth we should just gloss over. When we’re talking about a severe mercy, we are talking about God’s willingness to bring, to allow suffering, even severe suffering - in our lives, in order to save us from ourselves.
There’s a point here where you have to think, how in the world? Suffering is bad. Pain stinks, it hurts - it certainly is severe…where’s the mercy?
Before we answer that - remember that all of us, all of us experience pain and loss and suffering. No one escapes. It is the human condition - illness…death…broken relationships…deep disappointment…wounds from others.
How difficult, how tragic if there was no meaning in our suffering, no way for it to be redeemed - if the universe is, as Richard Dawkins puts it - is blind, cold, pitiless, indifferent.
But with God, there is mercy even in the most severe of suffering - because, if we will soften our hearts, if we will relent, if we will humble ourselves toward God, then suffering, even severe suffering, can bring us more fully toward Jesus, the one, the only one, who can give us joy and peace and life - the life we all hope and long for.
This actually brings us to the part of the story of Exodus that we want to cover this morning. Today we’re going to look at Exodus 4-10, as Moses comes before Pharoah to demand that he let the Israelites go. In Pharaoh we see an example of God bringing great punishment into lives of Pharaoh and his people. Their hearts are hardened - Pharaoh especially. God is working to soften their stance toward him, humble them - a severe mercy.
So, as I hope you remember, the Israelites had moved down to the Egypt from the land of the Canaanites to escape the famine during the time of Joseph, and they stayed there. As the centuries passed they were enslaved and oppressed by the Egyptians, whose fear of the Israelites increased as their numbers increased.
Finally, God responds to the cries of his people and calls out to Moses from the burning bush to lead his people out of slavery. We saw last week as Moses’ reluctance to do this, but - finally after the litany of excuses he relented to God’s call.
As we pick up the story today, Moses has met up with his brother, Aaron, they are going to go before Pharaoh to demand that he let God’s people go for three days so that they can go into the wilderness and worship him.
But before they do, they tell the Israelites what they are about to do: Exodus 4:29-31: Moses and Aaron brought together all the elders of the Israelites, 30 and Aaron told them everything the Lord had said to Moses. He also performed the signs before the people, 31 and they believed. And when they heard that the Lord was concerned about them and had seen their misery, they bowed down and worshiped.
So, everyone’s excited - it’s finally happening. God has heard their cries and is moving in power to save them. They hear what Moses and Aaron have to say, they see the signs of power (staff turning into a snake, Moses’ hand becoming inflicted with leprosy), so they bow down and praise God. It’s like, “Yes!” It does not last.
Before Pharaoh
Moses and Aaron go before Pharaoh, make God’s demands, but Pharaoh has no fear of God (remember, this is one of the main themes of book of Exodus, fear of God). Listen to Pharaoh’s response, Exodus 5:2…Pharaoh said, “Who is the Lord, that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord and I will not let Israel go.” I don’t know your god. He can’t be that powerful a god - he’s god of slaves! Why should I listen to him? There’s no fear here for Pharaoh.
Now, Pharaoh is wickedly clever, he realizes a rebellious spirit is growing here - so he punishes the Israelites. Clearly they have too much time on their hands if they have time to go and worship in the desert, they need to work more. So he tells the slave drivers to stop provided straw for the brickmaking -now the people must get it themselves and still maintain their brickmaking quota.
The Israelites can’t manage it - it’s too much. And so it has the desired effect - they turn on Moses and Aaron, they are furious with them. Moses, in turn, pleads before God - what are you doing here? I thought you were here to rescue your people? Turns out this is not going to be as easy as he thought…following God never is.
But God is not worried (of course) he knows Pharaoh’s heart, how hard it is, how staunchly he will resist. And God plans to use the hardness of Pharaoh’s heart to demonstrate his power, so all the nations will know that he is the Lord, that he did this. Exodus 6:1, Then the Lord said to Moses, “Now you will see what I will do to Pharaoh: because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country.”
Pattern emerges - God demonstrates his power, his punishment, by inflicting plagues on Egypt - and they get increasingly worse. The Egyptians suffer, so Pharaoh will relent, will begin to make promises, try to work out compromises - he wants the suffering, the severity, to end. But, as soon as God removes the plague, Pharaoh hardens his heart again and refuses to let the Israelites go. He never recognizes it as a mercy.
The plagues come, one after another, beginning with water in the Nile being turned into blood - all the fish die. It reeks. The people have to dig along the Nile to get drinking water. The next plagues: frogs. Literally frogs everywhere - palace, in bedrooms, in ovens, feeding troughs. Then the dust becomes gnats. After the gnats, flies - and this is the first time we see where the Israelites are spared - no flies in the land of Goshen.
Now, the first plagues were more highly annoying - or really disgusting (frogs, gnats, flies). But they start becoming more severe - The fifth plague is a plague on the livestock (horses, donkeys, camels, cattle, sheep, goats, all of them - except for those owned by the Israelites). This plague kills many of the Egyptians’ livestock. After the plague on the livestock, boils. Festering sores appeared on both people and animals.
Then it really starts getting severe - a hailstorm. Not any hailstorm, but a hailstorm so severe that if people and animals are not in some sort of shelter - they will die. Trees stripped bare. And just in case the hailstorm doesn’t do enough damage, a plague of locusts, millions and millions of locusts - so many that “they covered all the ground until it was black.” And they devour everything, all plant life eaten away by this horde of locusts. It’s at this point that Pharaoh’s officials start to turn against him, they are more than ready to relent before God - let the Israelites go! But Pharaoh’s heart is hard, he is one stubborn man. The ninth plague is darkness. Total darkness for three days, a darkness so deep it is felt.
Throughout this whole time, it becomes increasingly clear to Pharaoh that the God of the Israelites is unlike any of the Egyptian gods. Here is a God who has power, true power, far beyond what any of his own magicians and their gods can do. Pharaoh knows that Yahweh is doing this and that he and his priests and officials can do nothing to undo or stop it. He has to plead with Moses to pray to God for the plagues to stop.
But he will not relent. He tries negotiating, you can go worship, but do it here in Egypy. Or you can go worship, but only the men. Or you can’t take your livestock with you. Over and over, it’s clear that Pharaoh does not want to give in to God, he resists - and he’s willing to let his people suffer, and they suffer greatly (start adding up the cumulative effect of these plagues - especially the plague of locusts, they are slated for starvation).
And yet, this is all a severe mercy on God’s part - if Pharaoh would relent, truly repent (I was wrong. I will free these people from enslavement. You are free to go and worship your God). If this suffering would properly humble him, God would receive him, embrace him - as he would with any of us.
But Pharaoh is full of pride. He has no inclination to stop, he simply wants these difficulties to end and everything go back to the way it was. As far as he’s concerned, that’s the way it should be. That’s best for everybody (well, for him, anyway).
We’re no different - that’s our inclination. We resist God. We’re constantly looking elsewhere for life, to be able to do things our way - rather than turning to the one who is the source of life and joy and peace. But it cannot be found anywhere else - only in God himself (as much as we try looking). And so it is a mercy from God to bring pain and suffering in our lives if it pulls us out of whatever else we’ve given our hearts to - and turn back to him.
I think C.S. Lewis captures it perfectly in his book, The Problem of Pain: My own experience is something like this. I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow or a bit of work that tickles my vanity to-day, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threaten us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happinesses look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real treasure is Christ. And perhaps, by God’s grace, I succeed, and for a day or two become a creature consciously dependent on God and drawing its strength from the right sources. But the moment the threat is withdrawn, my whole nature leaps back to the toys...God has had me for but forty-eight hours and then only by dint of taking everything else away from me. Let Him but sheathe that sword for a moment and I behave like a puppy when the hated bath is over - I shake myself as dry as I can and race off to reacquire my comfortable dirtiness, if not in the nearest manure heap, at least in the nearest flower bed. And that is why tribulations cannot cease until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless.
Pharaoh’s remaking became hopeless -his heart far too hardened. And even though it was terribly severe, Sheldon Vanauken realized he would have never given his heart fully over to Jesus as long as Davy lived, as long as he held onto the idol of this great love. Through God’s severe mercy, he was remade, remade into who he was created to be - one in loving, faith relationship with Jesus.
This is why tribulations, as Lewis calls them here, trials, sufferings - can be a good thing. Because they shake us out of our contentedness with the world, with our “toys” making us realize that these things can not, in the end, give us life. They are merely gifts from the one who can. That it is Jesus who is our true treasure. He is the one we need. He is the one who can heal our hearts. Who loves us truly and fully.
As Peter declares to him in John 6:68 when Jesus asks the Twelve if they want to leave him too? “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.”
Spiritual Disciplines, help us to live out our core conviction, Lived Obedience to Jesus. Trusting that Jesus speaks the words of eternal life, we want to put them into practice, live in obedience to him. This is ultimately a question of who has your heart? Who - or what - is your true treasure in life? Question of idolatry.
Prayer of daily devotion, giving yourself first and fully to God. Recite and pray Matthew 6:33 (But seek first…). Or pray the first and greatest commandment. As you commit to praying this daily, you’ll begin to be aware of the ways and places that’s not true in your life, how inconsistent we are. Let that be a time of confession.
Second, spend some time looking at your weekly schedule - because how we spend our time is an indication of our values and priorities. Does your daily and weekly schedule reflect that Jesus is first in your life? As Vanauken reminded us, it is impossible to be “incidentally a Christian” - overwhelming first or nothing. We must be intentional about prioritizing Jesus (and it’s for our own good!). Take a step this week to plan to be with Jesus this week.
Let me finish with this thought, because, in the end, we will never follow or pursue Jesus out of duty - that lasts only so long. It must come out of a heart and mind enthralled with God, that we truly treasure Jesus.
If you remember the story of the Prodigal Son from Luke 15, younger brother who demanded his inheritance - went off and spent it all in wild living. Had to eek out a living feeding slop to pigs. His suffering was enough - he finally makes his way home to God, humbled.
Consider the condition of the son as he approaches - would have hardly been recognizable - tattered clothing, lost weight, filthy…and yet, when the Father sees him, he rushes to embrace him, throws his arms around him, welcomes him home - as his son.
By all rights, the Father should have rejected him, you’re only coming to me as a last resort?
C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain...
It is...a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up “our own” when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud He would hardly have us on such terms: but He is not proud. He stoops to conquer, He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him, and come to Him because there is “nothing better” now to be had.
I love it - He stoops to conquer, even then, when we’ve tried everything else we come crawling back to God…he so readily embraces us. Because more than anything else, he simply wants us. Jesus treasures us. My hope and prayer is that it doesn’t require a severe mercy for us to treasure him in return, but if it does, may we embrace it readily.