Why me, Lord? What have I ever done to deserve all these woes, all these cares in my soul? Tell me, Lord, What did I ever do to deserve all this pain, all the aches and disdain? Lord, help me, Jesus, I'm sinking so low and I can't see the way I should go. Now that I know that I need you, O Lord, hear my cry, for I just can't go on.

Help me, Lord. I have so many cares, such a weight of despair, I just can't see the light. Why, Lord, Why this ache in my heart, why must I bear these trials, all the burdens of life? Lord, help me, Jesus, I'm sinking so low and I can't see the way I should go. Now that I know how I need you, O Lord, hear my cry, for I just can't go on.

There is not a soul here today who has not at some point asked, Why? Why, Lord? Why me, Lord? Why did I lose my job? Why did I lose my loved one? Why did I get cancer? Why are my children the way they are? Why can't I have all the things I need? Why am I so lonely?

The most famous "Why me, Lord?" probably came from the Old Testament character Job. In the Bible story he was like a child who asks, Why? God was like the typical parent who answers, "Because I said so"!

That may sound typical of many parents, but it doesn't sound like the Father we worship, does it? That doesn't sound like the God who suffers with us, who loves us, forgives us.

No wonder Marcion, in the 2nd century, tho't there must be two gods described in the Bible.

So what's the point? Is it wrong to ask questions? Six-year-old Johnny asked, "Dad, why is the sky blue?"

"I don't know, son."

"Dad, why is the world round?"

"I don't know, son."

"Dad, where did God come from?"

"I don't know, son."

"Dad, do you mind my asking you so many questions?"

"No, of course not, son. How else are you going to learn?"

Did you ever ask, Why me, Lord? I'll answer that for you -- Yes, of course you have. I have. We all have.

Would you like me to give you the answers, to tell you why you have trials and tribulations? Well, just listen up!

Where are you, Lord? Why can't I find you when I need you? I've looked for you in my past, in my future, in my present; I've looked into the sky, in the bright lights, in the the darkness; I can't find you anywhere, God.

What am I to do with the radical absence of God? What am I to say to the lady who has wanted to die for several years? What am I to tell her children as they watch her lose her husband, then her home, then her memory and her dignity; as they watch her endure the humiliation, the embarrassment of incontinence, then of dementia?

That's when I want to scream at the so-called "right-to-life" folks, who determine to save any and every fetus, flawed as it may be, but are unwilling to let that poor lady die when and how she wants to die. They insist on hooking her up to machines and tubes and pumps, even tho she has written instructions not to!

Any time a preacher attempts to speak about God and human suffering, there is always the risk of irrelevant prattle, platitudes. "It's God's will; you must accept it." "God never puts more on us than we can bear." "God will decide when you shall die."

And it's not only preachers who are guilty of meaningless nonsense. Many of us respond to the hurts of others with mere babble. We mean well, but we often speak without thinking.

We will do well to pause and listen to our trite trivialities, our pitiful Tinkertoy bridges over the fathomless chasms of the loss of loved ones or the hopeless, helpless affliction of an addict.

That is not to say we should not respond to questions, but we should beware of simplistic answers.

A woman who was interned and tormented by the Nazis explained why she no longer believes in God. "Either he was unable to help us, or he was able but didn't care enough to help us." Or, she decided, maybe there is no God!

Is it any wonder that the mother whose son just died, when she was fed such silly mumblings, cried out, "Then I want no more of this God"?

That's how Job must have felt. When God answered his "Why me, Lord?" with "Because I said so" Job must have wondered whether he was worshiping the right deity.

In Robert Coles' The Spiritual Life of Children, he interviews Margarita. Her life is circumscribed by the brutal hillside favela, a community of shacks on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. Looking at the giant statue of Jesus with his outstretched arms, she says, "When I look at Jesus up there, I wonder what he's thinking. He can see us, and he must have an opinion. I try to talk to him. Mama used to tell us (her mother had died of tuberculosis) we'll go to heaven, because we are poor. She said it to shut us up when we were hungry. I used to believe her. Now when I hear that I look up at him and say, 'What do you say, Jesus?'"

Well, Margarita, we could explain the roots of Brazilian poverty, the problems of Third World debt, but I bet a girl with your intelligence is still going to look up at us, and at Jesus, and ask, "Why?"

Margarita goes on, "My little sister is always crying because she doesn't get enough food! I hope Jesus sees everything that goes on here. I hope he doesn't just stare into the ocean like that statue."

Yes, Margarita, he sees. And he cries along with your little sister.

When we question the chaos and confusion of this world, are we just dumb, stupefied playthings of the gods? That's what Homer said.

Not of my God, Homer!

When I ask Why me, Lord? my Jesus puts his loving arms around me, and instead of answering "Just because," he says, "I'm here with you. I love you." He sees the inequities and injustices of the world, and I think he understands why we ask Why? I hope he also understands my impatience when I don't get many answers!

I guess I'll have to wait for the answers, along with Mother Teresa, who said, "When I get to heaven, he has a lot of explaining to do!" For some reason, chaos and evil are just part and parcel of this world.

The problem of evil is by far the most difficult of all theological challenges. It simply is; it exists. The Bible seems to blame Adam and Eve for sin, but that is a rather simplistic explanation.

Marathon runners speak of "hitting the wall." They get to the place where they simply can't go on . . . but they do! They run on, and on, and on, until they miraculously finish the race.

Our quest for answers demands that we continue seeking, even when we can't find answers. Probably the most profound description of spiritual maturity is the ability to keep asking questions.

Theodore Weld was an American evangelist and abolitionist. In 1834 he spoke to some prospective anti-slavery activists. He said, "If you join us merely from a sense of duty, we pray you keep aloof and give place to those who leap into our ranks because they cannot keep themselves out, who instead of whining about duty, shout privilege, delight."

Yet amid all the chaos and evil, there is also much good. Albert Camus said, "In the midst of winter I finally learned that there is in me an invincible summer." There is more to life than unanswerable questions.

If I understand the teachings of Jesus, there is much more to life than to have everything, even answers!

The bottom line is that I have no bottom line. I have no pat answers for you. I don't know why you? why me? why us? I do know that Jesus did not invite us out of our troubles, out of our struggles, but rather he came to join us, to be with us in our troubles and our struggles.

You heard about Hilda Mayor, from the Dominican Republic, who escaped the World Trade Center disaster, then decided to go home to the Dominican Republic for a vacation; she was killed in the crash of American Airlines Flight 587 in Queens. If she realized they were going down, she must have asked, "Why me, Lord?" Or the sailor just back from service on a carrier, also killed in that crash. There were many others with similar stories, whose families are asking why.

Why, Lord? Where were you, Lord, when the Trade Center was destroyed?

One minister said God was holding up the buildings until two-thirds of the people got out. Don Schneider, president of the North American Division of Seventh-day Adventists, wrote in a special issue of SIGNS, "There's a lot of pain in heaven today. God is saying, 'I'm sorry about the way My kids have behaved.'"

He imagines a scene in heaven: "Someone is saying, 'Let's return to earth and get the faithful right now.' And Jesus says, 'But if we wait another day, maybe someone else will choose eternal life.'"

In The Man Who Played God, the main character was a wealthy and famous musician. At the height of his career he began to lose his hearing. (Believe me, that can be depressing!) Bitter and angry, he withdrew from society, turned away from God, became a virtual recluse in his penthouse apartment.

From his window overlooking a park, with the help of high-powered binoculars, he began to amuse himself by reading people's lips. One afternoon he focused on a young man who was praying. When he determined what the young man was praying for, he sent a servant to fulfill the request.

Another time he saw a lady telling someone of a desperate need. Again he sent help. Gradually, he became quite adept at determining needs. Each time he fulfilled a need, he looked heavenward and laughed scornfully. He was playing God! A god in whom he could believe! And he was enjoying it. He got a real joy in meeting the needs of people.

Then a strange thing began to happen. As he performed the deeds of kindness, he began to know God, the God who gives, and gives. He was converted, if you please, to believe in Jesus, the Jesus who came not to be served, but to serve.

I promised to give you an answer today -- there it is: Turn the "Why me?" to a "What can I do, Lord?"

Remember when John and James asked to sit at the right and left of Jesus in the Kingdom? Jesus took the occasion to teach them to look at life, not looking down from above, as those with authority, peering over the heads of others, but looking up from below, up into the faces those in need, those who are lonely or depressed.

In The Scandal of Service, Jean Vanier suggests that real "authority" is love and communion. We are here to serve, not to be served. That is precisely what Jesus taught.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer suggested that every community must confront the ambitious wrangling that set James and John at odds with Kingdom principles. He called the desire for position and greatness "the struggle of the natural man" which we must overcome. Exactly what Jesus taught his disciples!

God finally answered Job as he swatted away all Job's questions with a booming, tempestuous show of divine majesty. His answer was in truth no answer at all. In effect, he said, "Who are you to question me, to question life?"

Job tho't he was asking God some good and legitimate questions. God never answered them. Instead, God asked Job a few questions: "Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Who marked off its dimensions? Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone" I suspect Job ended up feeling pretty stupid. I don't think God wants us to feel stupid. Neither do I expect many answers from God.

Karl Barth warned against seeking a god who is little enough to answer all our questions.

Augustine said, "We are Easter people and ALLELUIA is our song." We need to remember that. Easter is a time of rejoicing, not mourning. So I invite you to prioritize your life, as the old song said, "Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, and don't mess with Mr. In-between."

In closing today, I want to give you a personal testimony. I have had some very trying and disappointing chapters in my life. I have had failures, disastrous blows. Most were of my own doing, altho many were not my fault. I have been controversial much of my life. And that hurts. I have thin skin!

But dear saints, I want you to know that there was never a man as blessed as I have been blessed. Here I am, 5 months from my 80th birthday, a by-pass survivor, prostate cancer survivor, in my 6th year of leukemia, now with diabetes and sever hearing loss added, in my 12th year as minister of this church, when most of my colleagues have either died or retired. So it is from a grateful heart that I sing:

"Why me, Lord, what have I ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I've known? Tell me, Lord, what did I ever do that was worth loving you for the kindness you've shown?

"Lord, help me, Jesus, I've wasted it, so help me, Jesus, I know what I am. And now that I know that I needed you, so help me Jesus, my soul's in your hand.

"Try me, Lord, if you think there's a way I can stand to repay all I've taken from you.

"Maybe, Lord, I can show someone else what I've been thru myself on my way back to you.

"Lord, help me, Jesus, I've wasted it, so help me, Jesus, I know what I am. And now that I know that I needed you, so help me Jesus, my soul's in your hand.

"Thank you, sweet Jesus, for all that you've given me, so many blessings I have. And now that I know how you've blessed me so much, thank you, Jesus, for all that I have. Jesus, my soul's in your hand."

Let us pray . . .

Loving God, we are here today because we are so confused and so uncertain. On the outside we are calm and peaceful. On the inside we are consumed with worry and frustration.

We have come today for peace, for reassurance and solace. We do not seek to be preserved from all the chaos, but we ask you, as the disciples asked so long ago, save us from that which we cannot handle. Save us from the storms which seem to overwhelm us. Let us use disappointments as material for patience. Let us use success as material for thankfulness. Let us use suspense as material for perseverance. Let us use danger as material for courage. Let us use criticism as material for longsuffering and improvement. Let us use praise as material for humility. Let us use pleasure as material for temperance. Let us use pain as material for endurance.

"Lord Jesus Christ, you are the light of the world. Fill our souls with your peace, fill our minds with your truth; fill our hearts with your love."