CHS Downtown sermon | Tim Henderson+

How are you guys doing? Good. Holding up? Doing alright? I hope so. We're gonna talk about being happy. I hope you're doing well as we begin. My name is Tim Henderson. You are at CHS Downtown. We also call it the table for reasons that might be somewhat obvious to you. It's church, but it's different. Right? Instead of sitting in rows or pews, which are lovely, we sit at tables because we really wanna facilitate more of the face to face combination. We want you guys to experience relationships, and in particular, relationships around a very special meal, which we'll get to in a little bit.

But we celebrate communion here in a way that I think more closely approximates the way that Jesus did it, and maybe the way that we even meant to do it. So it's really a great pleasure to be here with you. Special shout out to Zach. Zach got baptized this morning, so we're super excited about that. Welcome. Great fun to be there this morning to see you make that public profession of identification and union with Christ. So we rejoice with you and Bianca. So much love to you guys.

Alright. So how many of you have actually read the books, Lord of the Rings? Anybody read the books? A handful. How many have seen the movies? More of that. Yeah. That's kinda how it tends to go. So I don't honestly remember if this shows up in the movie, so this might be a little bit new to you. But I just finished rereading them. I read them years ago, just reread them. Hey, Carla. Welcome. Glad you're here. Everybody say hi to Carla. We got space up front if you want, Carla. You can hang out with Shane.

So here's the thing. In the books, I just finished rereading them. It took me months. These things are like they go on forever and ever and ever. But something struck me that I had never remembered from reading it before. So here's the deal. Y'all probably know the general plot line. Right? Frodo is tasked with taking this ring, this evil ring that embodies all sorts of wickedness, and he's gotta go on this impossibly long, impossibly difficult journey to this volcano and chuck it in the volcano so the ring can be destroyed and evil destroyed with it, essentially. Right? And he does it. He succeeds. It's wildly improbable. He doesn't do it alone. He's got his friend Sam and a whole bunch of others. And they do the job, and it's a miraculous ending where evil is destroyed, and the Shire is saved. The world is saved.

But then, do you remember, once it's all done and all the evil is put down and the good guys win, do you remember what happens to Frodo? If you read it. It's maybe in the movies. I don't know. But do you recall anybody that read it, you remember what happens to Frodo after? I know he gets a finger bit off, but besides that, when it's all over, do you remember what happens?

Eventually, he's gonna go with Bilbo. But between here and there, that's right. From the dagger stab. He gets healed from that dagger stab slowly killing him. Yes. The stab lingers with him. And in fact, all the misery that he'd been through—listen to this. You gotta understand that he has just won an astonishing victory. Right? This is the time to rejoice because the bad guys have been put down. This is what happens.

Arwen, who is this kind of elf princess, she sees him. She's like, "A gift I will give you." And listen to this:

And if your hurts grieve you still, and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now.

And she shook a white gem like a star that laid upon her breast hanging upon a silver chain. She set the chain around Frodo's neck, and she says this:

When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you, this will bring you aid.

It's very discordant. He's just conquered the world, and he is overwhelmed with sorrow and heaviness and grief. Short time later, they're walking back to the Shire, which is kinda like the village that they're all from. It's this idyllic little place. And it says:

At last, the hobbits had their faces turned toward home, and they were eager now to see the Shire again. But at first, they rode only slowly, for Frodo had been ill at ease. And when they came to the fords of Bruinen, he halted, and he seemed loathe to ride into the stream. And they noted that for a while, his eyes appeared not to see them or things about him. And all that day, he was silent. It was the October 6.

"Are you in pain, Frodo?" Gandalf quietly asked as he rode by Frodo's side.

Well, yes, I am, said Frodo. It's my shoulder. The wound aches, and the memory of darkness is heavy on me. It was a year ago today.

"Alas, there are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured," said Gandalf.

I fear it may be so with mine, said Frodo. There's no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same, for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest? And Gandalf did not answer.

Frodo had won a massive victory, and it was time to rejoice and to be happy. And yet, he couldn't. He couldn't enter into the very happiness that he had helped to produce, and even Gandalf the wise had no words to comfort him.

And I think that Tolkien is on to something here, something really, really important, namely that in this weary world, joy can sometimes be hard to find. Have you noticed this? Doubly so when we are bearing the wounds of yesterday. Because my deepest and most abiding longing is probably very similar to yours, and that is simply to be happy. And sometimes, I am. Sometimes, I am riotously happy. Right? We enter into laughter and mirth and joy.

Just this past week, I've been in Idaho with a bunch of my closest friends in all the world. We were hiking and whitewater rafting. I showered repeatedly in a 103 degree waterfall. Did you know that Idaho has more hot springs than any other place in the world? There's hot springs everywhere. We found this waterfall out in the middle of nowhere, and hot water is pouring over this cliff for centuries. I mean, it is literally over a hundred degrees, and we showered in this thing. And there's this pool that you can turn into a hot tub, and it was so fun. It was just so incredibly luxurious and magnificent.

And then I got home, and then today, I got a message from another of my dearest friends, my roommate from college, actually, and he is bearing deep pain. His son—he has a nineteen-year-old son who has just begun his first romantic relationship with a forty-two-year-old man, and he is suffering. What to do? How does he help his son see the peril of the circumstance in which he finds himself?

You guys, sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I'm not. Sometimes the joy is so rich, and sometimes the burdens are just thick. We're allowed to feel that variety of things. You're allowed to be sad. When the circumstances are sorrowful, it's proper. But I have often found—I wonder if you have found—that happiness can be elusive and fleeting, and it has made me very attentive to know why. Because I would like to be happy. And if there's such a thing as durable joy, I would like to possess it. Would you? Would you not love that?

Three Reasons for Christian Joy

One of my great theological mentors is a man who has never met me. He's been dead for three hundred years. His name is Jonathan Edwards. But when Jonathan Edwards was eighteen years old, he preached his first formal sermon. Hundreds, maybe thousands would follow it. But when he was eighteen years old, he preached this sermon, which is a clue into the fact that this guy is absolutely brilliant. I really sincerely doubt that there's anybody who has walked the continent since Edwards died that matches him in intellectual prowess and insight. He's just extraordinary—flawed, like everybody's got some things in his life that are perhaps shameful as we all do. But he had an amazing ability to draw deep insights from God's word.

He preached a sermon. This first sermon he ever preached, the gist of it was this. He says that Christians ought to be the happiest people in the world for three irrefutable reasons. And when I read this, I'm like, oh my goodness. I have got to capture this because I think he's really onto the thing that I long for most of all.

Here are his three reasons. We're gonna unpack this over a few weeks.

Number one: For Christians, we should be the happiest people in the world because our bad things turn out for good. That's true. Do you know that that is actually true? Our bad things turn out for good.

Number two: Our good things can never be taken away.

And number three: The best is yet to come.

Our bad things turn out for good, our good things can never be taken away, and the best is yet to come. That is a heck of an insight. Each one of those statements is absolutely true. Right? But together, they form this phalanx—this robust structure that gives us, I think, at least a fighting chance to possess that durable joy that transcends some really, really painful circumstances.

And what I hope to do in the next three weeks as we talk about this is to try to help all of us as a community, myself included, really embrace that and believe that it's really true that our bad things will turn out for good, and that our good things cannot be taken away, and that in fact, the best is yet to come. And if we have those things, and there are some other things too that I'm gonna sprinkle on with apologies to Edwards, I think that would be a pretty solid structure for you to carry through the rest of your days.

Days under 100 degree waterfalls and days where your family is in great distress. We want to have a joy that persists in all those kinds of things. So tonight, we're gonna just focus on this first claim that our bad things turn out for good.

This is terrifically important because bad things are coming. Bad things have come. Have you noticed this? If God uses bad things for good in our life, the good news is that he's got so much to work with because there's just so much of it. There are hurts. There are disappointments and injuries and loss and times we're misunderstood, times that we're just filled with regret for foolish decisions that we've made. All these things can be very, very quite awful. But if you're a Christian, the promises taken together, they're all going to turn into joy.

So what I want you guys to do—you'll have a chance to discuss over the meal—but just for a quick intermission discussion: can you prove that biblically? Just take a minute. Let's take about sixty seconds. At your tables, if you had to make a biblical case that our bad things turn out for good, could you do it? Go ahead and discuss any passages of scripture that you would go to to make that case.

Edwards never makes stuff up. He does a really good job of anchoring his claims in scripture. So will you guys come up with anything? Any passages of scripture come to mind?

Romans 8:28

Romans 8:28 — right, who here said that? I mean, this is so basically, it says that all things work together for the good of those who love God who are called according to his purposes. All things work together for the good. There's something here. Paul is tapping into this idea that somehow God is gonna take all these things and bring good out of them. Romans 8:28 is a great place to build that case.

What else? Anybody go beyond Romans 8:28, or was that the showstopper?

Philippians 4

So, yeah, he says—I've learned he says: "I've learned the secret of being content in any and every situation." It's like, Paul, what is that secret? Because that's exactly what I'm looking for. There's something that's transcendent that enables you to endure some pretty miserable circumstances. I mean, Paul did not have an easy life. Not by any means. So Paul's gonna be a great source of this, not only in Romans, but other places too.

The Life of Joseph

Any other passage? What we got? Life of Joseph. Great. It's a great example. So which Joseph? Jesus' dad or the guy back in the Old Testament? The old guy. Right. So his life is full of things going terribly poorly, but then it works out for the good, not only of him, but for the whole world. Remember when his brothers sell him into slavery, these things go really terribly for him. And when his father dies, his brothers are really afraid. It's like, oh man, now he's gonna get us back because he's been ascended to the second in command over Egypt. And he's got his famous line. Remember what he says to his brothers?

"You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the salvation of many people." — Genesis 50:20 (paraphrased)

So God is able to take evil actions—this is sin—because God's not in charge of sin, but he's able to take people's evil and bring it about for a good purpose. And Joseph is maybe the second greatest example of that. The greatest example of that being Jesus himself. His crucifixion was the most unjust thing that has ever happened, and from it has come—don't you think—the greatest amount of good in the whole history of the world through this thing of incredible atrocity? This is amazing.

The Book of Job

Okay, one more. Any other passages that make this case? Job. Job's whole life. So what is the good that comes out of the deep sufferings that Job goes through? What is it?

So ultimately, he's gonna get everything that he loses, he's gonna get back in significant ways. And so there, that's a good thing. Although it's still kind of a rough deal for the kids and everything. I mean, there's still real pain to that. But he gets something more. What does Job get out of it? What is the ultimate good? Not just the getting paid back, but what is it?

Is it faith in God being in control? I think so. Like, when he finally places his hand over his mouth, he's fine.

He has given through deep pain, but he is given a vision of something that he would not have been able to see or understand or embrace. There's a particular beauty he would never been able to behold, absent such deep and abiding suffering. Right? This principle shows up over and over again. We see it lived out in the Old Testament.

Paul says it like this. Here's Second Corinthians 4:

Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. — 2 Corinthians 4

James says this:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish this work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. — James 1

Peter puts it like this:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ and his great mercy. He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. — 1 Peter 1

I know that's a long quote, but here's where he's going with it. In this suffering, all this misery, you rejoice. What? You rejoice, though now for a little while you have to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. But these have come so that your faith of greater worth than gold may be proved genuine and result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

Our afflictions are achieving something for us. All of the yuck, and there is a great deal of it—being a broken person in a broken world is a recipe for deep pain—but all of it is accomplishing something. It is achieving something. It's leading to something.

Afflictions as Transformation

Here's how Edwards puts it. Listen to this:

The Christian may look down upon the whole army of worldly afflictions under his feet with a slight and disregard. Because were they to join their forces together against him and put on the most rueful and dreadful habits, forms, and appearances, and spend all their strength, vigor, and violence with endeavors to do him any real hurt or mischief, it would all be in vain.

In the ultimate final analysis, if you are hidden in Christ, you are bulletproof. All these things that array themselves against you, it's all in vain.

Now, we don't have time to fully unpack how it is, but I'll just give you two things. You're like, that sounds bizarre. Here are two quick ideas for how I think that works.

Number one, we are being changed. You're being transformed. Your sufferings, the stuff that you're walking through, the stuff that my roommate is going through—you're being changed into creatures that seek joy in worthwhile places. It's happening. It's happening today. It's an ongoing effect. We are being weaned off all of these things that tempt and tease, and we're being drawn into sources of joy that are, in fact, durable. That transformation process is no picnic, but the result of it is grand.

Here's how Lewis puts it. Lewis gives this image that God loves us in all sorts of different ways, all sorts of metaphors. But one of those is that God loves us like an artist loves his artifact, loves his art, like an artist loves his painting. Listen to what he says:

Over a sketch made idly to amuse a child, an artist may not take much trouble. He may be content to let it go even though it's not exactly as he meant it to be. But over the great picture of his life, the work which he loves—though in a different fashion as intensely as a man loves a woman or a mother or child—he will take endless trouble and would doubtless give endless trouble to the picture if it were sentient. One can imagine a sentient picture, after being rubbed and scraped and recommenced for the tenth time, wishing that it were only a thumbnail sketch whose making was over in a minute.

And in the same way, it's natural for us to wish that God had designed us for a less glorious and less arduous destiny. But then we are wishing not for more love, but for less. Because he's relentless in shaping us to be the sort of creature that will experience maximum joy for all of time.

And whatever yuck you are going through, this is not to minimize the pain. It's because the pain is real that the transformation is also real.

All things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. — Romans 8:28

You're being shaped. You're being changed. Your life is being developed. And if you can see it, if you could see it more pointedly, that would be a source of great joy.

Second thing, I don't know why this works, but it gives us rewards for faithful suffering. There's a compensation. There's reward. We live in a sea of grace, but it's not all grace. Sometimes he gives us more than all, even more than that—as we faithfully suffer, it is achieving something.

Now, I want you to notice this. For Frodo, it was the memory. He was looking backward. The memory of this dreadful journey that he had been on was what was robbing him of joy. We do that too. We get caught in past pain. It lingers and it clings to us.

What Edwards is doing, if you notice his three things, everything he's saying is future oriented. He's looking this way. It's all about the things that are to come. He's pointing out how a future orientation works. It is the anticipation of future happiness that floods back into the present pain and produces real joy. Real joy.

Because I bought a motorcycle last week. It's super sweet. I love it. I had a verbal deal with the seller over the phone, but I didn't have the bike yet. But I was still extremely happy. Because there was a future joy—I was gonna drive down to Asheville and pick it up. Before I was in possession of the bike, I knew that it was going to be mine, and the joy began before the bike arrived.

If I knew that tomorrow my son Benjamin was going to come to faith in Christ, the happy anticipation of that future good would flood my heart with present joy. Future hope floods back into present pain to bring joy.

Now if I don't know that that will happen for Ben, then I won't have any real power. And if I didn't trust that that guy was gonna actually deliver the bike, then I would have been more anxious than happy in that moment. It is only confidence in future good that brings us present joy.

Which is why, although Christians could be, should be, ought to be extremely happy, it only works if we know what's coming. It only works if we can see that future joy that is heading our way or perhaps into which we are heading.

And that is what I want to invite you guys to talk about tonight as we share this meal. What is it that helps you to believe, to see, to believe, to trust in, to anticipate future happiness? What actually works to move your mind away from past pains that linger and cling and to turn your attention over here?

Different keys turn different locks. There might be something else that works better for you than it does for me. Or there might be something that you have discovered that I've not yet discovered of how to move your gaze there. But I hope you guys will discuss that over this meal.

You'll find on these trays, which we'll get to in just a second, a set of questions that I just mean to facilitate some conversation. We're going be in this for a few weeks. I want to talk about durable happiness. It's not just the case that our bad things turn out for good. It's true. But it's also the case that our good things can never be taken away and that the best is yet to come.

Over these next few weeks, as we kind of process through, I'd love you guys just to chew on this. What are your sources of joy? Where do you go to? What do you demand as a condition for your own happiness? Process that both around the table and then kind of over these next couple weeks. Dig it.