The Lutheran Hour

"Productive Pain"

#71-39
Presented on The Lutheran Hour on June 6, 2004
Speaker: Rev. Ken Klaus
Copyright 2025 Lutheran Hour Ministries

Text: Text: Romans 5:3

Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! A living Lord means to all who believe, that their sins have been washed away. A living Lord means to those who come to Him in faith, they have a Father who forgives. A living Lord means our yesterdays, todays, and tomorrows are in His hands. Indeed, even the pains of life can be, in His presence, productive.

In Ireland, a family by the name of Clark had a dream; husband and wife with their nine children wanted to immigrate to the United States. To make that dream a reality, they struggled, scrimped, and saved. Finally, they managed to accumulate enough money and obtained all the paperwork they needed to take the trip and begin a new life, in a new land. Then, as often happens, tragedy struck. Seven days before they were to leave, the youngest of the children, a little boy, was bitten by a dog. The bite wasn’t serious. The doctor stitched the lad up in no time at all. The tragedy was, the doctor also had to hang a yellow sign on the Clark’s front door. The yellow sign warned everyone to stay away; there was a possibility, a very small chance, that the boy had contracted rabies from the bite of the unknown dog. Their ship was to sail in one week, the family was quarantined for two. They would have to stay behind as their ship–and their dreams–sailed into the sunset.

The father, outraged at what he felt was the unjust, unfair hand that he had been dealt, went down to the pier to stare as the ship set out. Furious at God, frustrated with his son, he cried and he cursed. He stomped home in a foul mood. He stayed that way, too. Then, only a few days after his vessel had left port, he got word that on April 15, the very ship which was to have brought them to a new life, had been sunk. The Titanic had gone down. As it disappeared, it had taken with it the lives of over 1,500 passengers. Hearing that news, Mr. Clark’s attitude was instantly transformed. Their lives had been spared. Their tragedy had been turned into triumph.

Isn’t that a wonderful story? When I first told that story about 25 years ago, the people of my parish politely nodded their heads in agreement. They thought, just like I did, that God had done a wonderful thing by saving the Clark family. I told them, “See how God works things out.” At that time I thought it was quite a sermon. In the congregation that day, the Sunday I first told that story, there was a retired minister. He heard what I said, and later on in the week, he came to my office for a visit. His arrival was always a bright spot in my day. He was one of those experienced men who was always supportive of a young, and very wet-behind-the-ears, minister. Without ever overtly criticizing, he had the ability of setting a man straight. Settling in to one of the office chairs, he talked of many things–small things, insignificant things. Then eventually, he meandered over to the true point and purpose of his visit. He began, “That was quite a story, quite a sermon you preached on Sunday.” “How kind of you to say so, Reverend,” I replied.

With a smile, he continued, “Ken, I said it was quite a sermon. I didn’t say why I thought it was quite a sermon.” Then, as if he was apologizing, he meekly commented, “I don’t think it was probably one of your best.” Thinking he was going to correct some insignificant, grammatical point, I asked, “Please, tell me, what didn’t you like?” “Well actually, I didn’t like most of it.” That was a surprise. I asked him, now with a certain degree of reluctance, to explain. He did. He said, “I dislike the picture of a God who sends dogs to give gashes to little boys.” I hadn’t thought about that before. The pastor continued, “Ken, we have an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God. Couldn’t an all- powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God have come up with a better way to keep the Clark family off that boat? Maybe He might have given the family a flat tire on their way to the docks, or caused the alarm clock to malfunction the morning of their departure. Did God really have to frighten the family for two weeks with the threat of rabies?” I hadn’t thought of that, either. Of course, I knew that God’s ways aren’t our ways. I knew that God can take the worst of situations and make them work out for His people. Not entirely convinced of my error, I thanked my visitor for his insight.

The pastor wasn’t done. He said so. “Ken, I’m not done. I encourage you to rethink your idea of an uncaring, unloving God.” Thinking my old friend had totally misunderstood my sermon, I interrupted, “But the whole purpose of the story is to show that God does care.” “Really?” he said. “Ken, you told how God actively got involved and spared the lives of one family – the Clarks.” I couldn’t deny it. What he was saying was true, I had said that. Then he asked, “If God showed His presence, and His care, and His love by sparing the Clarks, where was He for the 1,500 passengers of that ship that weren’t spared; that thrashed around in the cold water and eventually died? Didn’t God care about and love them, too? Couldn’t God have given the ship a leak while it sat in the harbor; or sent a puff of wind to move the iceberg out of the way of the vessel? Then He would have saved everyone, rather than just one family.” The pastor was on a roll now: “Ken, if you had been pastor to some of the families that lost loved ones in that shipwreck, what words of comfort would you have given them?” Then he finished by saying this: “When pastors and people thank God only when they think He is giving them a peaceful path, they will usually blame Him when things get rough.”

My old friend has gone home to the Lord now. I can tell you there have been a great many times when I wish I could have called him up and told him, “Reverend, you were right about many things, but you were never righter than when you said, ‘If we thank God only when things are going smoothly, we will blame Him when things get rough.'” As a pastor, I’ve been in sick rooms. I have visited with Christians and unchristians, who have enjoyed 50, 60, 70, even 80 years of excellent health. They took it for granted. Healthy days were the norm for them. But when illness brought them low, they almost all ended up asking, some quite bitterly, “Have I done something to make God mad at me?”

I have counseled with people whose marriages were disintegrating, visited with men and women who had lost their jobs, agonized with pained parents whose children had taken a wrong path, sat with confused children whose mothers and fathers seemed to be constantly bickering and backbiting. I have tried to bring comfort to those who have suffered the death of a friend, a parent, a child, a co-worker. I have listened as teens poured out their heartfelt ache and agony about always being on the outside, looking in. In these situations and many more, those who were suffering were convinced that God had deserted them.

I have been in cities after an earthquake had shaken the core of the community, towns where tornadoes had torn homes from their foundations. In these places, I heard thanks come from those whose homes had been spared, and the cries of people who had suffered loss, not the least of which was the feeling that they had been forsaken by God. Even the insurance adjustors who showed up kept referring to the disaster as having been “an act of God.” Seldom did anyone speak of how God, as a loving Father, always does what is best for His children. Truly, my old friend was right, people who thank God only when things are going smoothly will blame Him when things get rough.

Lest you think I overstate the point, think upon what was said after the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. As all of the United States, and much of the world, went into mourning, I heard skeptics of Christianity and mockers of the Savior call out their cynical challenges: “Where is your God? How could your Lord allow such a terrible thing to happen? He has deserted you.” Indeed, I heard more than one pulpiteer proclaim roughly the same thing. The belief was widespread that the followers of the Christ ought to always enjoy a simple life, unmarred and uninterrupted by discord and disharmony, by sickness, sadness, or sorrow. It has become almost common knowledge that when difficulties and disputes arise, as they almost inevitably do, it is because someone has been disobedient or because God has deserted them.

It is quite possible the things I’m sharing sound familiar. Most of you should understand what I’m saying. With sadness and a shudder in our souls, most of us can remember back to those times when we felt God and everyone else had deserted us; when we felt alone and unloved. Almost all of us can recall those days where the sun never seemed to shine — when life was depressing and dark; when our hearts were filled with despondency, depression, and despair. Almost every one of us, if we take the time to think back, have had those periods when we felt we could walk away from life and no one would notice. Some of us may have felt (and maybe even on this Lord’s day still feel) you could end your life and no one would care. You feel that God, along with everyone else, has deserted you.

I want you to believe, to know that is not the case. If your life is filled with sadness, God still cares. If your time is passed in terrors, God still brings peace. If your nights are passed in pain, God still stands by your side. Because of sin and all the sad and sorry consequences that it brings, sorrow, suffering, and death are part of our lives. Not even following the Christ promises an escape from these things; nor does a strong faith provide immunity from their onslaught. Adam and Eve watched one son murder another. Moses was plagued by people that regularly rejected him. The prophets were, almost to a man, laughed at and scorned. No, we cannot escape from life’s problems; but we can, in Christ, be sure that we have help. Indeed, even pain can be productive as it brings us closer to the Lord, more reliant upon our Savior.

In truth, Jesus never promised His followers would avoid the crosses of life. On the contrary, He said those who would follow Him would have to take up their cross, and it has been so. Most of the disciples died terrible deaths, and in the last century more men and women were martyred for their faith in the Savior than in all the years of the Christian era combined. Writing to the church in Corinth, but to you and me as well, St. Paul said that Christians would have troubles, but he also promised that God would comfort His children (2 Cor. 1:1-3). James knew that we would have trials, but he knew that God could bring good out of those trials (James 1:2-4).

My friends, no matter how sorry your situation today (and I probably ought to give you a second to think about your personal sadnesses); no matter how deep is your depression, no matter how lacking in love is your life, God has not deserted you. He has not stopped loving you. History records only one instance where the Heavenly Father deserted Someone. That Someone was His own Son, our Savior and Lord, Jesus. Jesus Christ, rejected by government, church, community, and nation; deserted by friends and followers, disavowed and discarded by disciples, was also deserted by His Father. So that you might eternally eat and drink with joy in paradise, God’s Son drank and drained the bitter cup of your sin and the suffering you deserved. So that you might never be alone, God let His Son hang upon the cross alone. To reconcile you with God, Jesus’ life and death built a bridge between heaven and hell. To reunite the Father with His wayward and wandering children, Jesus cried out from the cross of Calvary, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” In those hours, Jesus suffered a loneliness you cannot imagine, that you could not bear. The life of Jesus was the commitment God made so you would never be alone, so you could have help today and a positive, powerful hope for all your tomorrows. You can believe this–you need to believe this–no matter how lonely or how lost, how discouraged or depressed you might feel this day.

When I was in Alaska, I was told about a little boy who went on an afternoon fishing expedition with his father. This was the first such trip for the boy, and he was understandably just a little bit frightened. As the sight of the shore started to shrink away, he asked, “Daddy, is the water over my head?” Daddy laughed and replied, “Way over your head, son.” A few moments later came the next question, “Daddy, is it over your head, too?” This time dad heard the change in his son’s voice. Daddy killed the boat’s engine and sat down next to his son. “Yes, my boy, it’s quite a bit over my head, too.” After a few moments, the father asked, “Son, do you want to know anything else?” The boy asked the big question, “Is the water over God’s head?” With great sympathy, dad shared that no water could ever be over God’s head.

That single fact provided the boy with the peace he needed. It ought to do the same for you. You see, no matter how great is the tide of trouble that rises around you, no matter how frequent or fast crash the waves of worry and woe upon you, in the love of Jesus Christ you are safe. To believe on Jesus as your Lord and Savior means that the waters of life will never be over your head. To know you are held, in good times and bad, by the hands of a loving Father, is peace, and it is also power. Today, even though Christians are not able to see Jesus, they know they are not alone. Even as He ascended to His Father in heaven, Jesus promised to send His Holy Spirit to call us and keep us in our faith.

This is what Jesus said, “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid”(John 14:25-27). The Greek word for Counselor that Jesus used was paraclete. No, not parakeet, but paraclete. One scholar has said that when Greek soldiers went into war, they went in pairs. When they were attacked by the enemy, they stood, their backs facing, as they defended each other. Your battle companion was your paraclete. There are other definitions for this word. A paraclete is also an attorney who defends you, an intercessor who speaks on your behalf, a helper. Pick what word you choose, they all tell us, no matter the circumstance in which we find ourselves, we are not alone.

In the 17th century, Oliver Cromwell sent his assistant to Europe. The mission was critical to the country, and the assistant found himself unable to rest. His predicament was made doubly unbearable by his servant, at the foot of the bed, who was able to sleep most soundly. In frustration, the master woke the servant. He explained, “I need somebody to talk to. I am afraid things will go wrong.” The servant requested permission to ask some questions. Permission granted. His first question was, “Master, did God rule the world before we were born?” The master allowed that was true. “And master, will God rule the universe after we’re dead?” “Most assuredly,” was the reply. Then concluded the servant, “Master, why not let Him rule your present as well?”

If you don’t know God well enough to trust Him with your present and your future, let “The Lutheran Hour” introduce you to Him. Call us at the number we will give before the end of the broadcast. We would like to tell you about a Father who loves you; God’s Son, who lived and died to save you, and the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, who is even now by your side, defending, interceding, helping. Amen.

Lutheran Hour Mailbox (Questions & Answers) for June 6, 2004
Topic: The Doctrine of Vocation and the Christian Soldier

ANNOUNCER: Stay with us for the next few minutes as we talk about holy war with Dr. Gene Edward Veith, author of the book, “Christianity in an Age of Terrorism.” I’m Mark Eischer. Dr. Veith, Christians fight in wars, but is there such a thing as a Christian war?

VEITH: No, not at all, and this is something that is very important for Christians to realize now. There is no such thing as a Christian war, as a war with a spiritual kind of component. Now the terrorists, in their interpretation of their religion, believe in the holy war, that in Jihad is really a means of salvation. By killing the enemies of Allah, they believe that they will go immediately to paradise. It’s interesting that the same thing was happening in Luther’s time. Because the Reformation took place the same time as a huge Turkish Empire was invading Western Europe, the response of the emperor at the time, and of the pope in particular, was to declare a crusade. The crusades were a religious war, and those who fought in the crusade would get an indulgence by which, if they died in battle, they would go immediately to heaven. Luther came down very strongly against any kind of crusade. Luther was completely opposed to the idea that salvation comes from fighting and killing – that some kind of good work can earn heaven. Luther was completely opposed to that, because of course, salvation only comes from faith in Christ. The emperor and others said, “Luther’s against this war. He’s going to let the Muslims come down and destroy Christianity.” And Luther said, “God will protect Christianity.” He said, “It’s right for the emperor and the princes and the governments of the day to fight the war as part of their calling. The emperor’s calling is to protect his people. But we dare not turn this into a crusade and a religious war.” Even at that time, the Turks were fighting under a Jihad, but Christians mustn’t fall into that trap.

ANNOUNCER: So really it’s a sad irony that we are sometimes referred to as “crusaders” in the current conflict?

VEITH: It’s a sad irony, and it’s sad that so much of our conflict in the Middle East goes back to really that very confused theology of the Middle Ages.

ANNOUNCER: Could you briefly explain for us also, how it is that a religion of moralism actually produces more immorality?

VEITH: That’s a great mystery, isn’t it? But Scripture talks about how that is so. Part of it, I think, is it creates a feeling of self-righteousness – you know, to obey the rules; someone thinks I’ve really done a good job about that, and very soon it comes to the point that since I’m righteous, anything I do is righteous. I’m such a good person, that even when I do something bad, there is a whole pattern of rationalization and justification for the bad things we do. But being sinful, we can’t by our own works fulfill God’s law. It would be so nice if we could, but no one can, no one does. Christianity, though, is not a religion based solely upon law. It’s a religion based on the Gospel. It’s based on forgiveness. It’s not based on thinking that we’re doing the right thing by doing all these good works, which in some cases can turn into actually harming other people, but rather, it’s a religion based on forgiveness when we haven’t done what we should. It’s based on the grace of God, on the sacrifice of Christ, on the free forgiveness of sins that He offers.

ANNOUNCER: We’ve been talking with Dr. Gene Edward Veith, author of the book, “Christianity in an Age of Terrorism” published by Concordia Publishing House. Dr. Veith, thanks for being with us.

VIETH: My pleasure.

ANNOUNCER: This has been a presentation of Lutheran Hour Ministries.