Some of you remember the '80's TV
series Thirtysomething. I was in my thirties for about half of that decade,
so I watched the show now and then. I
remember one episode in particular. Elliot's
wife Nancy is stricken with cancer.
After surgery and a series of treatments, they do more testing to
determine if the cancer is arrested and Nancy is healed. During those three or four days, Eliot spends
a great deal of time in prayer. Elliot
is not a particularly religious man.
Like so many people who are thirty-something, most of his faith was from
childhood. In these intervening years he
had drifted away from the church and forgotten God. But in spite of that, Elliot spends a great
deal of time in prayer in the hospital.
He tries praying in the chapel. He tries praying in a stairwell.
But the place where he seems most comfortable in his prayers is in a
hospital restroom, shut up in a stall, one foot on the toilet, his head in
his hands in agonizing prayer … "O God, please heal Nancy. Please make her well. I don't know what I would do without
her. She's a good person, God. Please heal her. And if you'll heal her, I promise that I will never forget you again.
Never."
A few scenes later, we find out the good
news: Nancy is healed. All the cancer is gone. So they quickly get a party together in his
wife's hospital room. Their closest
friends attend. And amid the
celebration, one of Elliot's friends says to him, "Elliot, man, this is incredibly good news. I can't
believe it. The cancer is gone. How do you explain it?"
"Dumb luck, I guess," said Elliot. "Just plain dumb luck."
The reason I remember that episode so well
is because Elliot’s comment really ticked me off. “Dumb luck.”
Are you kidding me? You prayed
and you prayed and you prayed. God
answered. And you had the nerve to call it “dumb luck”? The reason that lights my fire is because I’ve
seen that too many times as a pastor.
Here’s just one example: Matt is cleaning his shotgun. He thought it was unloaded. It wasn’t.
It went off. It nearly cost him
his left eye. It could have cost him his
life. Matt had been an on and off church
attender up to this time. When I visited
him in the hospital he said, “Pastor, I could have been killed. I should
have been killed. But God spared me for
a reason. And soon as I get well I’ll be
in church every Sunday. I’ll
be a new man. And I'll never forget God again.” Matt got well. He attended church a couple of times. And we never
saw Matt again.
I wonder how he told this story in years to
come. How did he explain the scar? Did he attribute the sparing of
his life to God or to dumb luck? How
quickly we forget the mercies and kindness and blessings of God.
As we enter another Thanksgiving season, I
encourage you to take stock of your blessings—past and present. Please don’t call them “dumb luck.” As W. W. Davies writes, "The Greek word for 'luck' occurs quite often in Greek and Roman
literature. The Greeks believed deeply
in the power and pervasiveness of luck.
Interestingly, that word appears nowhere in the entire New
Testament."
Maybe you have good health, a stable job, a happy family, a productive
life, a good church. Maybe you enjoy
good friends, enough to eat, a roof over your head, and a vehicle to drive. Maybe you’re on the backside of a difficult
season in your life. Maybe you’ve come
through many dangers, toils, and snares, and lived to tell about it. Perhaps you could list a few answered prayers
and couple of times when God appeared to intervene in your life and change a scary
thing into a good thing. Call these
things blessings. Call them gifts. Call them grace. But please don’t call them dumb luck.
O give thanks to the Lord for he is good,
and his steadfast love endures forever! (Ps. 136:1)
Happy Thanksgiving!
