The saints of the Bible were not supermen. No saints are. We are completely mistaken in our presumption that they stood a cut above us in their spiritual prowess. They were men and women who struggled in faith, suffered in hope, and sinned in the midst of real temptation. They denied Christ when push came to shove, like Peter. They complained at God, like Moses. They fell into great vice through cowardice, like Abraham. Not once, but twice Abraham passed off his wife, Sarah, as his sister, rather than his wife when confronted by powerful men who desired to have her as a wife. He declined to trust himself to God's rescue by standing up to the kings of Egypt and Gerar (Gn 12 and 20). Not once, but twice God rescued Abraham from the complications of his own cowardice and even increased his blessings. God does things like that. That's what makes saints.

God promises "that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose" (Rm 8:28). Seen from the gospel end of God, what the world says is bad, God intends it for good. This divine promise is not a pie-in-the-sky piety where Christians are always happy and successful, righteous and good. Far from it. God forces us to call good what the world hates and despises. Our hope is not in the light, but hidden unseen under the darkness we will have hope.

God's good also includes when our own failings create complications and trouble. Abraham's failings certainly did. We would expect God to punish Abraham for his cowardice, or at least let him suffer for it. It would only be just. That's right. It would only be just; not gracious and not loving. Our heavenly Father does not return justice to us. We could not bear it. Only One ever has. For the sake of that One, our God returns good for sin and moral cowardice. He is gracious to those who, like Abraham, falter when trying to feel their own way through the dark. He loves those whom He has called even when they are groping along a path away from the light of the world.

I often see this as God's way in people's lives. They come to my office to open their broken hearts at crisis times in their lives. Perhaps, they have fallen into sin and vice, like Abraham. Maybe they struggle with why they are facing suffering, and if it is sent by God, why they are not suffering it better, why they aren't better at accepting their trouble without tears or anger or frustration. "If I am in the light, why do I feel the darkness all around?" I tell them that when people are in deep crisis this is when they most appreciate and completely understand the grace and mercy of God. Their hope is buoyed up even though they cannot see the object to which their hope clings. Suddenly, the signs of God's mercy that seemed only empty rites now become meetings with God, they look past the servant who serves and hear God's comfort for them in sermons, they suddenly find hope for life when the body of Christ is placed on their tongue and the blood of Christ is received in faith for the forgiveness of sins. Like Abraham they can hear of the God who works good "even from their failings," as Luther says.