Good People Get Good Things?
We're continuing our devotional series on things Jesus never said, and that can't be found in the Bible, but we've always assumed he did, and they are.
Remember when vending machines were everywhere? Back in the day, you could get just about any kind of food from vending machines.
They aren't as ubiquitous as they once were, but you can still find them here and there.
I always hated it when the vending machine I'd chosen to use malfunctioned and got my candy bar stuck. Or worse, the vending machine would inexplicably drop the wrong candy bar.
I'd order a Snickers or a Baby Ruth, and out would come an Almond Joy. I can't stand coconut candy bars.
I'm thinking about vending machines this morning because I think that a lot of us treat God like some sort of divine vending machine. We put our coins in and expect a reward.
And we despair to no end when an Almond Joy comes out instead of what we wanted. (You can substitute your least favorite candy if you like)
The real issue here is our mistaken notions about how the universe works. We assume that if we do good things, we'll get a reward.
And when things inevitably don't work out that way, we lose heart.
The Gospel of John includes one of Jesus' most familiar healing stories: he heals a man born blind.
The disciples saw a man blind from birth, and they immediately wanted to know whose fault it was.
“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
It's an ancient question.
And we're still asking versions of it.
Why did this happen?
What did they do wrong?
Why would God allow this?
The disciples were operating from that mindset.
They had been taught that something like being born blind meant that someone had screwed up, and God was judging them.
They even believed that kind of curse could be visited upon one's children or grandchildren.
But the bottom line was that they thought good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people.
Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the idea that life operates according to a simple spiritual formula:
Be good and good things will happen.
Be bad and bad things will happen.
It makes the world feel orderly.
The problem is that life doesn't work that way.
And Jesus knew it.
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned.” — John 9:3
Jesus once told his followers that God “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.”
Good people get cancer.
Faithful people lose jobs.
Kind people have their hearts broken.
People who pray every day still experience tragedy.
And sometimes people who behave terribly seem to prosper.
That can be frustrating.
But Jesus never promised us a life without suffering.
Jesus certainly didn't receive one.
If goodness guaranteed comfort, Jesus should have lived the easiest life imaginable.
Instead, he was rejected, misunderstood, betrayed, tortured, and crucified.
So perhaps faith isn't a transaction.
Maybe following Jesus isn't about putting enough goodness into the divine vending machine for blessings to tumble out.
Maybe faith is about learning to trust God through whatever life brings.
There will be seasons of extraordinary joy.
There will also be seasons we would never have chosen.
Our faith doesn't guarantee that storms won't come.
It gives us somewhere to stand when they do.
And perhaps that is a much deeper promise.
God is not a cosmic scorekeeper distributing blessings and punishments according to our performance.
God is the One who walks with us through it all.
The mountaintops.
The valleys.
The celebrations.
The hospital rooms.
The beginnings.
The endings.
All of it.
Faith isn't a transaction that guarantees an easy life. It is a relationship that sustains us through a real one.
May we set aside any notions of a transactional faith, and learn to trust that not only is God present with us in all things, but that we can lean on God when life takes a hard turn.
May it be so, and may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.
Prayer
Faithful God, sometimes I want life to be fair and predictable. Help me resist the temptation to measure your love by my circumstances. When life is joyful, help me give thanks. When life is painful, help me hold on. Remind me that wherever I go, you go with me. Amen.
Reflection Questions
- Have you ever assumed that someone's circumstances reflected their faithfulness—or lack of it?
- How is faith different when we stop thinking of it as a transaction with God?
- What difficult circumstance in your life requires trust right now?

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