The Lutheran Hour

"Unforecastable"

#91-37
Presented on The Lutheran Hour on May 12, 2024
Speaker: Rev. Dr. Michael Zeigler
Copyright 2025 Lutheran Hour Ministries

Text: Acts 9:31

In the month of May 2001, it snowed in Colorado Springs where I was living at the time, and not just a little. Now, it wasn’t the springtime bomb cyclone that struck Colorado in 2019. It was more like the snowstorm that fell on the area two years ago, on May 21st. The May 2001 snowstorm that I remember dropped about five or six inches of fresh, powdery, unforecasted snow on the Wednesday and Thursday of that week. And I remember the feeling.

I was 22 years old, senior in college, getting ready to graduate, and at the time my task list felt never ending. Final projects, final exams, final events for graduation. And then on top of all that, add another list of growing worries from the adult world that I was just entering, car insurance and rental deposits and a cell phone. And then it all just stopped. Right in the middle of the week, a gift from the heavens above. Snow, in May.

Classes were canceled. Plans upended; schedules confounded. It was an unwelcome intrusion nobody expected. But also we were like kids again, called into something we could neither control nor resist. We pull on our boots and go out to explore a new world blanketed in glorious, unforecasted snow.

Falling snow is perhaps the purest manifestation of uncontrollability. The German sociologist Hartmut Rosa writes in his book, The Uncontrollability of the World, “Snow,” Mr. Rosa says, “is the intrusion of a new reality.” Something strange has come to visit us, falling down upon and transforming the world around us without our having to do anything, an unexpected gift. We cannot manufacture it, force it, or even confidently predict it, at least not very far in advance. What is more, we cannot get a hold of it and make it our own. Bring it into the house; it melts away. Pack it away in the freezer; it stops being snow and becomes ice.

Maybe that is why so many people, not only children, long for it. And longing for it, we try to bring it under our control and not just with more accurate forecasts. Did you know that gas-guzzling snow-making machines these days can manufacture fake snow in temperatures up to 80 degrees Fahrenheit? But it’s not the same, is it? There’s a reason we call that stuff “fake.” Mr. Rosa suggests that our relationship to snow reflects the drama of our relationship to the modern world because he says the driving hope and desire of modern life is that we can make the world controllable. Yet it is only in encountering the uncontrollable that we really experience the world.

So here’s the conundrum. The more we experience the world as a place that grips us, dazzles us, enchants us, a place that fills us with wonder and mystery and adventure, the more of that experience we want. And we’re told that the way to get more of it and to get a bigger share of it, while also avoiding disappointment and disaster, is to get more control. But then, when I see the world as an object of my control that changes my experience, doesn’t it?

Rather than encountering an unexplored realm with power to enchant me, I see deals on Amazon. Rather than meeting fascinating people whose stories fill me with wonder, I see the competition. Rather than abiding in mysteries that continuously surprise me, I see a cosmic vending machine. And I find that the more I try to control things, the more aggressive it makes me, the more I want to kick that vending machine when it doesn’t give me what I want. And the less I have of that experience that once gripped me, that childlike feeling of being summoned, addressed, called. Mr. Rosa writes, “If I could make it snow at will, I could never have the experience of being called by the falling snow.”

Mr. Rosa, the author of that book I mentioned, The Uncontrollability of the World, though not writing from a Christian perspective, he says a lot of things that a Christian could agree with and a lot that anyone discontent with modern life could agree with. And he suggests an approach to life that resonates with the way of life Christians find in following Jesus because Mr. Rosa suggests, instead of trying to exert more control, we could try listening and responding, turning away from a posture of control, from both active and passive aggression. It doesn’t mean going limp, letting life roll over the top of you. It just means listening and responding. It means listening for that call, becoming responsible to that call, being transformed by the call. But we might ask, “Called by whom? Responsible to whom? Transformed into what?” Mr. Rosa’s book doesn’t answer those questions and isn’t trying to.

But what if we insist on asking them anyway? What if that feeling of being called isn’t a half-formed metaphor? What if the calling comes from a Person? Not a human person, but a divine Person, from God, from our Creator? That was the core belief of the ancient Jewish people. They believed that God, the God who made the universe and everything in it had also made Himself reachable for them, for the people of Israel, and was calling them on a mission to make God reachable for all people.

But at times, Israel lost the vision for that outreaching mission. In the Bible, the New Testament book of Acts recounts the drama of the Jewish people as they, for better or worse, respond to that call from God given in Jesus of Nazareth who claimed to be their long-awaited Messiah, the King of Israel, the Son of God, God in the flesh, God made reachable for us.

Jesus said that He was restoring Israel by forgiving their sins and calling them to follow Him on the way, His way. Eventually, Jesus was killed over that claim, crucified on a cross. And this, it turns out, was no accident because God was using His Son’s death once and for all to put an end to their controlling hostility and to ours. And by raising Jesus from the dead, God doubled down on His commitment to call Israel out of themselves and, through them, to reach all people, to offer everyone forgiveness and new life in Jesus: first for the Jews, then for the Gentiles, you and me included. That’s the storyline of the book of Acts. And Acts chapter 9 zooms in on one Jewish man named Saul and how this story began to grip him.

Now, Acts chapter 9, it recounts what is probably the most dramatic and far-reaching conversion in history. In this one chapter, Saul goes from hating Jesus and hating His followers to loving them, serving alongside them, and becoming the foremost Jewish ambassador to the Gentile nations. Also in that chapter there are two other Jews mentioned by name, a man named Ananias and another named Barnabas. When we meet them in the narrative, both are Jews who have already become Jesus’ followers. But both Ananias and Barnabas also go through sort of a reconversion or a deeper conversion. Ananias, who’s suspicious of the murderous Saul, ends up welcoming Saul as a brother. And Barnabas, he’s also transformed. He goes from a sideline supporter to an involved encourager who sees something in Saul that no one else but God has yet to see.

As different as they are, all three listen and respond to the call of Jesus in their own situation. Saul is called from his controlling aggression to God’s gracious inclusion. Ananias is called from his limiting suspicions to God’s limitless resourcefulness. And Barnabas, he’s simply called by God from one season of service to the next. And all three are called in ways they never forecasted. I invite you to listen. Listen how it happened. And as you listen, notice how each of these three disciples of Jesus are called—Saul, Ananias and Barnabas—and consider where you see yourself in the story. It goes like this.

Now, Saul still breathing out threats and murder against the Lord’s disciples went to the high priest in Jerusalem and requested official letters to carry to the synagogues in Damascus, a city about a hundred miles to the north, so that he could go there and if he found anyone belonging to the Way, the Way of Jesus, whether men or women, he would have authority to bring them as prisoners to Jerusalem.

So he went on the way, and as he approached Damascus, suddenly there shone around him a light from heaven. And he fell on the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?” And he said, “Who are You, Lord?” And He answered, “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting. But arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” Now, the men who were with him stood there speechless because they heard the voice, but they didn’t see anyone. And Saul, when he got up and opened his eyes, he could not see anything. So, they led him by the hand into Damascus and for three days he could not see, and he neither ate nor drank anything.

Now, there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. And the Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias,” and he said, “Here I am, Lord.” And the Lord said to him, “Arise, and go to the street called Straight Way. And at the house of Judas, look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. Because look, he’s praying and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him so that he may see again.”

But Ananias said, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, about how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on Your Name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, because he is My chosen instrument to carry My Name to the Gentile nations, to kings, and to the people of Israel. For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of My Name.”

So Ananias went and entered the house and placed his hands on him and said, “Saul, brother, the Lord sent me. Jesus, who appeared to you on the way here. He sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” Straightway, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes and he could see again. And he arose and was baptized. And after eating some food, he was strengthened.

Now it happened for some days, Saul stayed with the disciples in Damascus, and straightway he preached Jesus in the synagogue saying, “He is the Son of God.” So that everyone who heard him was amazed and said, “Isn’t this the man who caused havoc in Jerusalem for everyone who calls on this Name? Didn’t he come here to bring them as prisoners to the chief priests?” But Saul continued to increase in strength, and he confounded the Jewish people in Damascus, demonstrating that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ.

Now after several days, some of the Jews there plotted to kill him, but their plot became known to Saul. Day and night they were waiting by the city gate to kill him. But his disciples took him by night and led him down through an opening in the city wall, lowering him in a basket. And he came to Jerusalem, and Saul tried to join the disciples there. But they were afraid of him because they didn’t believe that he was a disciple. But Barnabas, whose name means “son of encouragement,” Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles—to the leaders of the disciples appointed by Jesus—and recounted to them how on the way the Lord appeared to him and spoke to him and how in the synagogues of Damascus Saul had preached boldly in the Name of Jesus.

So, Saul stayed with them and went about freely in Jerusalem, speaking boldly in the Name of the Lord. But then he started talking with and arguing with the Hellenists, the Greek-speaking Jews, and now they’re trying to kill him. And when the brothers learned of this, they took Saul down to Caesarea, 70 miles away on the coast and then off to Tarsus back home, 300 miles to the north.

So, the church had peace throughout all Judea and Galilee and Samaria and was being built up and walking in the fear of the Lord, and in the encouragement of the Holy Spirit it multiplied.

That’s from Acts chapter 9.

So, with whom do you identify in that account? Maybe it’s Saul. Saul, going back to the opening analogy, he’s the guy on a self-appointed mission to make it snow. He wants to control his environment and he will work as hard as it takes to make things go his way. Now, in Saul’s case, he thinks he’s doing it all in service to God, but he ended up recreating God in his own aggressive image. Now, maybe you’re not a hardline fanatical religious nationalist like Saul. Maybe you’re not even religious at all. But are you trying to make your own snow, so to speak? To manufacture an imitation calling, to serve some higher purpose, to stave off burnout? Saul, as far as he could see at the time, was trying to do something good. But here’s what he learned: none of it matters if you’re serving the wrong person, whether that’s yourself or some other mere human, because the fact is, none of us can make it snow. And the harder we try, the further that joy retreats from us, the more energy we waste, the more deeply we bury ourselves in icy, empty imitations. Saul met the risen Jesus on the way and trusted that Jesus is the Lord who makes the rain and the snow come down from heaven to water the earth and make it bud and flourish. What about you?

Now, there’s also Ananias. Maybe you can see something of yourself in him. Ananias would be the guy who’s just ready for winter to be over. No more springtime blizzards, please. No more cold fronts that dump inconvenience into my life. And to Ananias, that’s what Saul was, a walking bomb cyclone. But Jesus said, “Go.” So Ananias goes. He goes, and he puts his hand on the shoulder of this unwelcome intrusion and says, “Saul, brother, Jesus sent me.” And then these two newly bonded brothers, opening themselves up to the uncontrollability of their Lord, pull on their boots and venture out into an unforecastable future together.

So, we got Saul and Ananias called from aggression and suspicion to God’s gracious, limitless, inclusive resourcefulness. But maybe you don’t really see yourself in either of them. Maybe this isn’t a moment of conversion or deeper conversion for you. Maybe it’s just one season of service melding into another: winter to spring, spring to summer.

If so, you might identify with Barnabas. Now we’re told that Barnabas, his real name was Joseph, but the brothers gave him the nickname, “Bar-Nabas,” son of encouragement, because maybe he was just one of those people who’s always holding out hope for everyone. Barnabas is a minor character in the book of Acts, but he’s mentioned several times. You can follow him there going with the flow from one season of service to another.

The first time we meet him, he’s selling some real estate investment to fund a ministry. Next, he’s advocating for Saul when everyone’s suspicious of him. Then they send Barnabas to a newly planted multi-ethnic church, to encourage them. Later, he recruits Saul again, who’s been out of the game for a while on a long sabbatical. And then next thing Barnabas knows, he and Saul, pulling on their boots, are swept up into a stormy missionary journey around the Mediterranean world, telling new people about Jesus.

And maybe you can see yourself in Barnabas. He’s got no flashy conversion experience, just a steady flow of life with God—uncontrollable, unpredictable, joyful service from one season to the next, and sometimes, like Colorado in May, all three seasons in a single week.

I look back onto that snowstorm in May of 2001. At 22 years old, I had no idea where the Lord Jesus would take me. And wherever you are in this life, you could probably say the same. Life is for us uncontrollable, uncontainable, unforecastable, but not unaccompanied. Not unaccompanied because God sent Saul and Ananias and Barnabas. And God sends a Christian community for you because He loves you, He calls you, He transforms you to be His child. So, why don’t you pull on your boots and head out with us into this unforecastable adventure? Amen? In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Reflections for May 12, 2024
Title: Unforecastable

No Reflection Segment this week.

Music Selections for this program:

“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by Chris Bergmann. Used by permission.

“Christ Is the World’s Redeemer” From The Concordia Organist (© 2009 Concordia Publishing House) Used by permission.