God Never Gives You More Than You Can Handle (Favorite Lies series)
Preached at Decatur First UMC
July 7, 2024
1 Corinthians 10:1-4, 9-13 CEB
Brothers and sisters, I want you to be sure of the fact that our ancestors were all under the cloud and they all went through the sea. 2 All were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea. 3 All ate the same spiritual food, 4 and all drank the same spiritual drink. They drank from a spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ. 9 Let’s not test Christ, like some of them did, and were killed by the snakes. 10 Let’s not grumble, like some of them did, and were killed by the destroyer. 11 These things happened to them as an example and were written as a warning for us to whom the end of time has come. 12 So those who think they are standing need to watch out or else they may fall. 13 No temptation has seized you that isn’t common for people. But God is faithful. He won’t allow you to be tempted beyond your abilities. Instead, with the temptation, God will also supply a way out so that you will be able to endure it.
Oh God, from the cowardice that dares not face new truth,
From the laziness that is contented with half truth,
From the arrogance that thinks it knows all truth, Good Lord, deliver us. Amen +
A few weeks ago I shared a story about something that my youngest said, and it turned out to be an important part of my sermon. So when my oldest learned that I’d be preaching this morning, she asked if I was going to talk about her this time. I told her that we are in the middle of a sermon series called, “Our favorite lies” and this week we are on “God never gives you more than you can handle.” I said, “Do you want me to talk about you?” And she said, “No, thanks. Maybe next time.”
No one wants to be the subject of this sermon, and yet, we all are.
When I think about the most difficult and despairing times in my life, times when I might be inclined to lean on the sideways comfort of a familiar myth, and utter these words or have them spoken to me -
God will not give you more than you can handle.
In those times, my heart and head are disconnected from each other, they don’t want the same things.
Times like -
The end of a relationship
A car accident
A season of financial insecurity
A Sudden, tragic death
An ultrasound that ended with the words “wait and see,”
Times of uncertainty
Grief
Fear
Isolation
In those times, my brain wants logic, reason, and purpose - an explanation for what happened and assurance of what is going to happen next.
My heart couldn't care less about logic and reason - my heart wants peace, a sense that all is not lost even though it seems that way.
When my head and my heart aren’t communicating well, I understand the Old Testament story of the Israelites who have left slavery in Egypt, but have not yet entered the promised land. They are in the wilderness and it is deeply uncomfortable. Slavery was oppressive and traumatic, but at least they knew how to do it. The uncertainty and discomfort of being free, but not home, breaks them.
While Moses is up on a mountain talking to God, they turn to Aaron and say, “Come, make gods for us who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.”
So Aaron asks them to give up something precious and valuable in exchange for a false sense of certainty. He takes their gold jewelry, melts it down, and makes an idol for them to worship like a God. Worn out by uncertainty, they create something that they can pretend is certain.
Yeah, that tracks. We will do almost anything to avoid accepting the things that we cannot change.
“God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” Is the kind of thing my brain would come up with in the wilderness. It provides both an explanation and a clear path forward. My brain likes the idea that whatever is happening, however tragic and unfortunate, is happening because God willed it so.
And because God gave it, and God knows how much will break me, I can trust that this won’t be too much. It’s both assurance of what happened and proof of what’s going to happen. God gave it. I’m going to handle it. Thanks, brain.
Except, my heart. My tender, weary, broken heart knows the truth. My heart that has trusted in God, and rested in God, knows what my brain can’t handle.
God didn’t give any of it.
The end of that relationship
The car accident
The Financial insecurity
The Sudden, tragic death
The “wait and see” ultrasound
The Uncertainty
Grief
Fear
And Isolation.
God did not make any of that happen.
This phrase that my brain has fashioned to make me feel better, fails almost immediately. Because my heart can’t stay in love with God, if God is dosing out suffering in accordance with my ability to handle it.
My heart remembers Jesus’s words - I came that you would have life, and have it abundantly* - and knows that my brain is trying to find some sense of control. Sorry, brain. Life happens, and we often have very little control over anything other than ourselves.
Paul writes to the church in Corinth, “No temptation has seized you that isn’t common for people.”
I like this more literal translation - No trial has overtaken you that is not distinctly human
The nature of being human is that both good and bad things are going to happen, and a whole lot of things that aren’t good or bad, but they still have to be lived through. If we are alive, we will experience all of it.
It might make more sense to say, “Life won’t give you more than you can handle.” But that's just so wrong. Life will, absolutely, give you more than you can handle. Count on it. My guess is that we are all, each one of us, dealing with something that is too big, too complicated, too painful, too sad for us to handle. Just because it does not kill us, doesn’t mean we are handling it. And just because we are handling it, doesn’t mean it’s not hurting us.
So, to say that life won’t give us more than we can handle is just a lie. To say that God won’t give us more than we can handle, while well meaning, is an attempt to force a sense of reason and control onto our distinctly human experience, which defies them both.
So, if this is a lie. What’s the truth? God is with us, and God wastes nothing**.
But, I don’t actually recommend saying that to people who are struggling, and that includes saying it to yourself when you are in the wilderness. Not because it’s not true, it’s just not that helpful.
I have a couple of other suggestions though. When a friend is going through a difficult time and you want to assure them that God is with them. Say this exact thing -
I’d like to bring you dinner. Is tonight ok, or would another night be better?
Or here’s another one -
I have a prayer shawl for you and I’m going to leave it at your front door. I’m driving by the grocery store on my way, can I grab anything for you?
I didn’t mention God. That’s on purpose. If someone going through a difficult time wants to talk theology with you, they’ll ask. If they don’t ask, don’t make them do it. God is already with them. You can’t make that real for them by talking about it, but you can make it real and tangible by supporting them. At the same time, you are affirming that this is, in fact, more than anyone should have to handle, so you’re here to help.
If you are the one going through a difficult time, and you want something to say to yourself, I recommend these deep theological questions -
Do I need a nap?
Am I breathing deeply?
Have I had enough water today?
Should I call or text a friend to check in?
And when someone asks if they can bring you dinner or a prayer shawl, practicing saying this -
Yes. Thank you.
And know that you will have the chance to care for someone in the same way one day.
This might not give the certainty that my brain wants, but it feels more honest. I can admit that it’s too much and let people help me. And with that I am already better because I’m being kind to myself, and I’m less alone, which is surely one of the ways God is present in the wilderness. I remember every meal, coffee, and snack that has been dropped off at my house, and there have been a few. I remember them as a holy communion, not unlike the one we experience at this table. God made real to me, present with me, in the breaking of the bread, or pizza, or tacos, or lasagna.
Life will give you more than you can handle. God is with you. Nothing is wasted. What would you like for dinner?
Amen.
+ I borrowed this prayer, #597 in the United Methodist Hymnal, as a prayer for illumination.
*See John Chapter 10.
** I, once again, borrow this phrase from Father Richard Rohr.
