All right. Well, good morning, everybody. My name is Nate. I get to be one of the pastors here. Thanks for making grace a part of your Sunday as we continue in our series in Isaiah called the Treasury of Isaiah. This week, we're going to be in Isaiah chapter 55. So if you have a Bible with you, I hope you do go ahead and turn to Isaiah 55. We're going to be looking at verses eight and nine this morning. If you don't have a Bible, there's one in the seat back in front of you. But as I'm trying to remind you guys regularly, bring your Bibles to church, mark them up, challenge me to point you to them, write prayers, write dates of prayers, underline things. Let's have some well-worn Bibles in here that we take home with us and use every day. As we approach the passage this morning, I was reminded of a conversation that we had in my Tuesday morning men's group just a week or two ago. This semester, we are reading through the gospel of Matthew. So a big focus on Jesus, life of Christ, his teachings, his miracles, his works, things like that. And I don't remember the specific conversation that we were having, but let's just say it was something along the lines of kind of wondering why Jesus seemed to always speak in riddles. Why he always would say one thing and then later would re-explain it to the disciples. Why he spoke in parables that people couldn't seem to understand. I mean, do you understand that Jesus had a conversation with a man named Nicodemus who was so intelligent amongst a group of learned men that he served on the Israeli equivalent of the Supreme Court. And when he pinned Jesus down to be like, what are you talking about? What's your message all about? That in that conversation in John chapter 3, Nicodemus says, I don't understand what you mean. Should I climb back into my mother's womb and be born again? Is that what you're talking about? And Jesus is like, maybe. And then the conversation's over. Like no more clarity after that Right? Obviously, he doesn't say maybe. That's a loose paraphrase. But we were just kind of discussing this as a group. And one of the guys in the group kind of, I don't want to embarrass anybody, so we'll just call him Emil. I called Emil. I have permission. He kind of raised his hand, asked a question that everybody has asked. And what I love about my boy Emilio is he's one of those people that has an incredible knack for asking the question that everyone else around him is asking, but they're just afraid to ask it, and he'll do it. And I love it. And so he says what we think too. Why didn't Jesus just say what he meant? Why didn't he just explain who he was and what he came to do? Why was he so shrouded in all of that mystery? It doesn't make any sense. And that's a fair question. That's a question that we all ask. Every single one of us has asked that exact same question. Why doesn't God do it this way? Why didn't Jesus heal more people? I wonder, why didn't Jesus just tell them to wash their hands? Listen, I'm not going to give away too much science, but just wash your hands sometimes. Why didn't he do that? Why didn't God organize things this way or that way or communicate himself more clearly? Why didn't God give us a systematic theology so we don't have to have spiritual debates? Why didn't Jesus perform more miracles or less miracles? Why was Jesus up in northern Israel in the country, in this unknown territory rather than in Jerusalem and in the epicenter. Why? Why didn't Jesus do it that way? Here's what we're asking underneath that question. Why doesn't the almighty, omnipotent, sovereign God of the universe do things the way that I would. And because of that, that's a stupid question. It is. And we've all asked it. But here's the deal. Here's how I know that that's a silly question. It's okay to ask it. But we have to be comfortable with the answer that we arrive at today. Here's why I know that's a silly question. Isaiah chapter 55, verses 8 and 9. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. God himself is speaking here in Isaiah 55. And he says, my ways are higher than your ways. My thoughts are higher than your thoughts. As high as the heavens are above the earth. As big and expansive as the universe is. That is the difference. The distance between the earth and the end of the universe is the difference between your intellectual comprehension and mine. It's the difference between your ways and my ways. It's the difference between your thoughts and my thoughts. This is what God himself explains to us and makes clear in scripture and in more places. He does it in Romans chapter 11 through Paul as well. And here he is saying, my thoughts are different than your thoughts. You will not understand me. And so what I want us to see is in reality, it is unbelievably naive and foolish to insist that God behave in ways that make sense to us. It is unbelievably naive of who God is, foolish about how we've estimated ourselves and our judgment, to expect God to always behave in ways that make sense to us. And yet we do this, don't we? Don't we shake our fist at God? This doesn't make any sense. You shouldn't do this. You shouldn't allow that. We do all the right things and we don't have the blessings that other people have. That's not fair. God, this evil, this atrocity is happening right now. I mean, look at what's going on in Israel, Palestine. God, how are you letting that happen? That doesn't make sense. That's not fair. We, at different points and at different times and in different ways, sometimes with a shaking fist, sometimes on bent knee with a tearful face, say, God, this doesn't make any sense. God, you're doing it wrong. God, why wouldn't you have just been more clear? And we insist that God help us see why his actions actually do make sense. Or we tell him that the things we see don't make sense, and then we somehow insist that they should. When I was enrolled in Bible college, as soon as I got done with my core work, and I got into, I got a pastoral ministries degree. As soon as I got into my degree work, they handed me this big thick book by, I'm assuming a good man named Norman Geisler. Systematic Theology is what it's called. It was a book about God and the Bible based on God and the Bible. And that book had more pages than the Bible, which is about God. That's a pretty good trick to do, Norman. And we spent two semesters working through systematic theology, where it takes all the names of God and explains them, and all the soteriology and homardiology and all the ologies and the study of sin and all the other things and salvation and what that means and baptism and why the Baptists are right and the Presbyterians are wrong because I went to one of those schools and all the things like forever, two semesters. Then I got into master's work. What's the first thing they do? They put a systematic theology in my hand. We got to get these right. We got to get all the boxes. We have to understand God. We have to be able, any situation, we have to be able to fit it in a box and explain it and understand it and have all the verses to back it up, and this is it. And then stuff starts happening outside of our theology and outside of our boxes, and we can't make any sense of it, and we insist that we should be able to make sense of it. God, I need to understand you. We insist on systematizing and categorizing a wild and wonderful God that does not submit himself to categories. We insist, Christians, and I know because I did it for years, and I lived under the impression that the person who had the most robust systematic theology and had successfully categorized and systematized the things of God in Scripture, the person who could do that the best was the godliest. That's what I used to think. But there's no better story in the Bible that tells you that God's really not interested in our categories and our systems than in Exodus chapters 3 and 4. My Bible scholars know that Exodus chapter 3 and 4 is where Moses encounters God at the burning bush. Moses is a shepherd. He's been a shepherd now for 40 years. One day, he's tending his flock, and he looks, and there's a large piece of shrubbery on fire. The fire's not dissipating. So he goes over to check it out. And the voice from the fire says, Moses, you're on holy ground. Take off your sandals. And Moses realizes he's in a conversation with God. This is strange. And the fire says, Moses, guy who's not important in any way, I would like you to go back to Pharaoh, the most powerful man in the world. And I would like you to tell him to release my people, the foundation of his economy, just let them walk out. And Moses says, okay, what's your name? And God says, I am. I am that I am. And Moses says, okay, when I go to Pharaoh, who should I say sent me? And God says, tell him I am sent you. The rest of the conversation is pretty remarkable. I would encourage you to read it. But it is amazing to me, equal parts that this is true and equal parts that we tend to miss it. You understand that the God we serve, the God we gather to worship and sing to, when we say his name is holy, we don't even know if that's right. Do you understand that the God we serve that many of us have devoted our lives to, we don't even know his name because he won't tell us. He's so resistant to categories and to being systematized that he wouldn't even tell us his name when we outright asked him. We're like, listen, I don't want to know for personal curiosity. I'm going to have to give it as backup when I go to Pharaoh and God's like, just tell him I am sent you. And what I love about that response from God, there's so many implications there. We could spend an entire Sunday morning on it. But what I love about that response from God with what is your name? I am. Is what he's saying implicitly is I will not submit myself to your categories. I will not submit myself to your systems. I will not be contained by the name that you give me. I will not be contained by a name that you've requested I give myself. We serve a God who is remarkably resistant to categorization and to systemization. Does it not occur to you that if God wanted to be systematically understood, if God wanted to be categorized and give us all the boxes to put all the things so we could perfectly understand life in the universe and time and space, does it not occur to you that he could have done it? He could have. He could have made this systematic theology. He could have made it very clear. He could have, Jesus could have done what we want him to do and spoken with more clarity during his ministry and left less mystery in the margins of his speech and of his stories. He could have done that and yet he chose not to. And in the face of all of this evidence, in the face of all of this evidence of a messy Bible that tells a messy story where God claims in different places, you can't understand me. My ways are higher than your ways. We want to know your name, God. I'm not going to give you that because I won't be reduced to that. Jesus, why do you speak in parables? Well, I'm not going to tell you that, but I'll explain this last one to you. We tend to sweep all of that aside and continue to grab God by the proverbial shirt collar and say, no, but make it make sense. Despite a landslide of evidence to the contrary of that possibility. Last Sunday, I had the kids on Sunday night, Jen serves in the youth, just as a way to avoid the children. She doesn't even really do anything while she's here. And so I had the kids, wasn't much in the house, so I said, let's go to Zaxby's. So I throw them in the car. Zaxby's is right down the road. That's a dangerous game for me. And I asked John, our youngest, he's three, what do you want? You want grilled cheese? You want chicken tenders? He says, chicken tenders. Great. Lily, what do you want? She says, I want a number one. I said, is that a Zax snack? She says, yeah. I said, all right. I said, I'm going to get a five piece, and then I'll let y'all split it up. And she goes, no, no, no, I want a number one. I said, yeah, baby, I understand. You're going to be taken care of. I want a number one. And I don't know about you guys that also have an eight-year-old or have had eight-year-olds, but they're insistent little boogers, you know? Really mean it. And we're kind of going back and forth. I want a number one. I said, you're going to be fine. Leave me alone, you know, really mean it. And she, you know, we're kind of going back and forth. I want number one. I said, you're going to be fine. Leave me alone. You know, whatever. And then I finally, I just said, and I knew the answer to this, but I just said, Lily, what's in the number one? And she says, three chicken tenders and a piece of toast and fries and a Zach sauce. And I said, I know when we get home, you will have all of those things in front of you. Okay? Okay. So then we get to the drive-thru, and we get to the window, and I say, hey, let me get a five-piece, no slaw, double fries, so I can split them 50-50 with the kids so there's no arguments when we get there. And as I'm ordering this, from the back, no, number one! So I struck her. I just turned around. No, I didn't. So I just said, Lily, just trust Daddy. Just trust me for just a second, all right? And she pipes down, you know. And then, you know, I did that to make it cheaper, but Zaxby's is also offering four shrimp for $3. And so if you ever wonder why, when you go through a drive-thru and they're like, hey, welcome to wherever, would you like to try our new yada, yada, yada? And you're like, no, I came here to order the thing that I want. I don't need you to suggest the thing to me. I'm the reason they suggest that to you. Because whenever they say, would you like to try our new thing? I'm like, yes, yes, I would. Say no more. You don't have to tell me about it. Because you don't get to look at it like this by stopping at one sandwich. You know what I mean? So I threw on the shrimp with the free Zach's tail sauce, and it was great. We get back to the house. Lily's brooding the whole way home. She's so upset because I haven't gotten her the dinner that she wants. We get back to the house, set them down. I break up everything. I put in front of her exactly what a number one is. I said, do you see? And she goes, oh, thanks daddy. And just eats. And I'm like, I am convinced as silly as this is that one day, one day, when we sit down in the great banquet in heaven, we will find that the whole time God has been preparing us a number one. And we will go, oh, thanks, Abba. I know that that's silly. I know it is. But I think it means something. We in this life insist so hard that God would make sense to us and that we would understand why he does all the things that he does. And I think, comparatively speaking, we are a petulant child sitting in the back, insisting that God has got our order wrong. And one day, we will sit down with him, and we will go, yeah, this makes sense now. I get it. I understand. I'm sorry. And here's the thing. If there's ever been anybody who had the right to insist that God start making sense, it was Job. Okay? When we think about grabbing God by the lapels and make this make sense for me, I've got a number one. Why aren't you ordering me a number one? This is what you should be doing, God. If there's ever been anyone in history that had the right to ask that question of God, it was Job. Now, if you don't know off the top of your head the story of Job, I'm sure you know bits and pieces of it. The book of Job is the first book of wisdom. It's probably the first book of the Bible that was ever written, the book of Job. God and Satan are having a conversation, and Satan tells God, the only reason your servant Job honors you is because you bless him. And God says, okay, take his stuff away. He will not renounce me. And Satan proceeds to systematically take everything there was away from Job. He loses his children. He loses his wealth. He loses his land. He loses his health. He even loses the peace of his wife, who at one point in the story advises him to curse God and die. His friends come to him in three different cycles of advice. And they tell him, Job, you're clearly hiding a secret sin, and God is punishing you for it. And he says, I tell you, I am not. I have done nothing unrighteous. Because God actually says about Job, he is the most righteous man on the planet. Until Nate gets there. And then, at the end of the advice, Job's had it. And he says, you know what? I'm going to go to God. I'm going to go to God, and I'm going to demand answers. And there's a sense in which all of humanity goes with Job. We're putting him in front of us. Excuse me. Yeah, you do it. We're kind of hiding behind him. Because Job has every right to confront God. God, I've done nothing but serve you with my whole life and you've taken everything away from me. And now I'm riddled with boils and everyone hates me. This does not make sense. This is not fair. God, make it make sense. Why didn't you do things the way I think you should do them? So he goes to God and he's demanding an answer. And anyone that's ever thought something happened that was unfair or unjust on God's watch is behind Job going, yeah, what's the deal? And here is God's response to Job and all humans in chapter 38. You will not be surprised to learn it's one of my favorite passages. Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said, who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge? The ESV is even better. It says, who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Whoops. I have a professor who said that Job demanded a man-to-man conversation with God. The problem was he was one man short. Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man. I will question you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation a little bit. Verse 8. Job goes to God, insisting a great injustice has done. And in that moment, I want God to pull Job aside, put his arm around him, and gently lay everything out. Let me help you understand this, son. That is not what God does. God says, Job, I believe you've forgotten your place. Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? And God goes on for three chapters. At one point in the middle, sad, pathetic Job, the sacrificial lamb for humankind, says, I repent in dust and ashes. I have spoken once. I will speak no more. And God says, I'm not done. And he keeps going. And what God is saying here is, Job, I know you have your questions. I know you want to understand me and what I've done. But until you can answer what I'm asking you, until you can explain to me how I hung the world in balance and tilted it at such an axis that it exists in harmony with the sun to allow your life. Until you can understand that, you can't possibly understand the answer that I would need to give you to explain myself to you. Do you see? Until you can answer my questions, you can't handle the answer to your questions. So I'm not going to explain it to you because it would be a waste of time. It would be, Rachel Martin is over here with a newborn baby. How old is that baby? Six weeks. This is her third one. They don't even care. They bring him like right from the hospital straight to church. God can no more explain to us what he's doing and how to make his decisions and his actions make sense then I can explain this sermon to that child. It's just not going to work. So God says, Job, listen, man, I'm not going to answer your questions because you can't answer mine. And until you can, you can't handle the answer that I would give you. So until then, this is the beckon from God. Until then, I just need you to trust me. I'm in the front seat of my car. Lily insists she wants a number one. I tell her I'm going to take care of it, but I need a number one. I need you to be quiet and trust me. Sometimes God needs us to be quiet and trust him. And in that trust, acknowledge. We can't know his thoughts. We can't know his plans. We can't know his ways. They are as far from us as the universe is from the earth. And this really ought to comfort us. This ought to be seen as a good thing. We can take great solace in the grandeur and mystery of our awesome God. We are in the back seat, insisting that God make it make sense. And God is telling us, will you just trust me? Will you just trust that I'm good, that I'm lovely, that I'm wonderful, and that I love you? I don't know if you guys have noticed this or know this, but almost every time our worship pastor, Aaron, prays, he finishes the prayer with God, we need you, we trust you. And do you know that that's an intentional choice? That he and I have actually had a conversation about that. And that the reason he ends his corporate prayers with we need you and we trust you is because it's a reminder to him and a reminder to us that we choose to trust in the goodness of God, that we acknowledge that we will not always understand him. We acknowledge that his ways are higher than our ways, but we know God to be good and we know God to be just and we know him be lovely, and we know him to be merciful and gracious and kind and faithful and hopeful and holy. We know those things about our God. So even when life doesn't make sense, even when we look at the way he does things and we think, gosh, I would do this in a different way. Stories like the conversation with Job. Inter interactions like those at the burning bush, declarations like those found in Isaiah 55 should ring in our ears and remind us, yeah, you serve a God that's too big for you to understand. See, what we want, what we want is a God that's just like a little bit smarter than us. So eventually, if we work hard enough, we can understand him. And that's not who God is. He is light years apart from us. And this should give us great comfort. There's actually a book I would recommend to you guys called Wisdom and Wonder by a man named Abraham Kuyper. Abraham Kuyper was a scientist, and then I believe he was the Danish prime minister at the turn of the 19th century. And he wrote a great book called Wisdom and Wonder, and it's all about this. The fact that we serve an unknowable, unsearchable God. Now listen, I'm not saying that systematic theology isn't important. I'm not saying that seeking to understand God is an absolutely futile exercise. There's great progress to be made there. We should spend our lives searching out and seeking out the character of God and seeking to understand him to the absolute best of our capacities. It's okay to understand theology and to talk about those things. But what I see in so many Christians is a forgetfulness and a naivety to the unknown nature of God. So we don't throw out theology as if it doesn't matter, but so often we hold to it and insist that God fit inside of it, and then when he doesn't, we seem to forget that he's unknowable and unsearchable and his ways are higher than our ways. We should hold those things in tension together, seeking to understand God, knowing that we won't always. And in those times when we don't understand him and he doesn't make sense and we wouldn't do things the way he's done them, or they seem to be contrary to what we think, in those gaps of unknowing, we fill it with faith in who God is and the promises that he's made and who he says he is. We fill it with his goodness and his grandeur. And in that way, we are allowed to marvel at a marvelous, miraculous, wild, unknowable God who allows us to see parts of him that we can't know. And this is the God that we worship and we sing to. So again, it's not wrong to ask that God would make sense. It's not wrong to seek to understand. But it is wrong to insist. Because when we insist, we forget what God declares in Isaiah 55. As we close, as we close this morning, I came across this prayer in my devotional and I thought I would end the service or end the sermon this way. We praise you, O God. We acknowledge you to be the Lord. All the earth worships you, the Father everlasting. To you all angels cry aloud the heavens and all the powers in it. To you cherubim and seraphim continually cry, Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts. Heaven and earth are full of the majesty of your glory. The glorious company of the apostles praise you. The good fellowship of the prophets praise you. The noble army of, we love you. We trust you. We thank you that your ways are higher than our ways. We thank you that your thoughts are as far removed from us as the end of the universe is from earth. God, we are sorry where we've tried to fit you into our intellect, into our boxes, and into our categories. We are sorry for failing to allow you to be wild and wonderful and grand and awesome. But Lord, would we be people who take strides to celebrate that, your bigness and your wonder. God, help us trust the parts that we can know. Help us to have faith in the parts that we can't know. And help us to look forward to one day when you shed light on so many things for us. And until that day comes, help us to cling to you in faith, finding comfort and solace in how big you are and how wonderful you are and how far beyond us you are. In Jesus' name, amen.