Psalm 22

Anyone seen the news lately?

·        Flooding in Saudi Arabia (killed 10)

·        Protests in Egypt

·        Continued instability in Haiti

·        Continued conflict in Sudan

·        There were shootings in Arizona and shootings in LA

·        The economy, though “recovering”, is far from strong again, unemployment remains at 9.5% as the country’s average.

And if that weren’t enough…

·        There are problems in marriages

·        Trials in dating

·        Too much debt

·        Days of endless depression

·        Aching bones

·        Domestic Violence

·        Sexual abuse

·        Child abuse

·        Diminished retirement income for those who cannot return to work

·        We have yet to find a cure for cancer and hear of new diagnoses each week.

·        Nearly 45 years of conflict in Israel Palestine

·        Over 25 million dead from AIDS with nearly 33 million currently infected with AIDS/HIV

In other words, you look around the world, and it all seems a bit depressing these days.  We can see the world ripe with problems that seem to go on forever and we’re bound to ask, “Where is God in all of this?”   

Sometimes we need to cry out: My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken us?  Don’t you care?  Can’t you hear our prayers?  Why are we still waiting for answers? 

Don’t we all have some kind of “why” question? 

Somehow, within our modern Christian faith it seems to have become taboo to question God or cry out, “Where are you? Why have you left me in the desert alone?” But it’s not taboo.  It’s not unfaithful to cry out for God.  In fact, crying out for God to help us, to answer us, is one of the most faithful things we can do.  We’re searching for God after all.

It’s scriptural even.  The Psalm wasn’t just one person’s lament.  It’s written by an individual, but the psalms became corporate prayers.  They became the laments or the praises of the people.  Psalm 22 became a lament of the people.  And not just a lament you looked up in your printed Bible from time to time when you needed it.  Bibles weren’t printed.  Heck, Bibles weren’t even compiled at that point. Instead, the Psalms were memorized.  Each person learned them and knew them by heart.  They could call these prayers to mind at any time. So, when an Israelite felt the need to lament and cry out, the words were there on the tip of their tongue: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?!” The people memorized this prayer just like they memorized the next “The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want…”  It wasn’t taboo. It wasn’t unfaithful. Each of the Psalms, in the fullness of their meaning, was a prayer to God.  And each Psalm addressed a different part of life…sometimes praise, sometimes begrudging an enemy, and sometimes, a desperate cry for help.

There is no perfect walk with God where we are unscathed by the problems of the world.  We can’t hide in a hole like a hermit hoping we can avoid the horrible things that happen around us.  Sin is real. Tragedy is real. Terror is real. Sickness is real. Death is real.  They are all unavoidable realities for us.  So, why do we try and pretend like they shouldn’t?  Of course, we wish they didn’t happen.  And the hope we have is that in the Kingdom of God, all these horrible realities will be but a vague memory. But we aren’t there yet.  We’re here. We’re in this broken place full of crazy sinful people—US!

And the truth of the matter is sometimes things are grim. So let’s not gloss over it. Let’s call it like it is.  Let’s sit in the middle of the mire for a moment and have a little talk with God.  It’s not about a pity party. It’s not about drawing on our whining and complaining for days on end.  It is about expressing ourselves honestly and frankly with God.  Let’s put our hearts on the table and say,

“Do you care anymore?”

“Are you deaf?”

“Can’t you see it’s getting pretty bad around here?”

God can hear that from us, and we’re not going to get smited for it.  I’m not trying to bring everybody down, and I don’t think the psalmist was either.  It’s not that there aren’t wonderful things happening around us that are worth celebrating. But we try and hurry through the painful stuff.  We don’t even want to slow down long enough to see what is happening, which is understandable, but not realistic.  Cancer doesn’t cure in a day.  Grief doesn’t go away in a week.  Relationships don’t fix themselves, they take sacrifice and work--sometimes more work than we want to put into them.  World peace is a simple thing to say you want at a beauty pageant, but how many people realistically could create a plan for us to get there? AIDS has been an epidemic for 30 years now.  There’s no quick fix to problems this big. We can’t fast forward through them.

So, let’s slow down a minute.  Even if it hurts to see the faces of those orphaned by AIDS. Even if our blood boils that yet another loved one is hurting, yet another marriage is failing. Let’s be present here and bear our hearts to God.

Matthew 28:16-20

I would venture most of us know this passage fairly well. I would also venture, that most of those that know it wonder how directly it applies to us. And a good number of those hope against the odds that it doesn’t.  As good Methodists, many of us don’t want to make people do something.  We like free will, freedom of choice. And the idea of “making disciples” sounds a bit too pushy and coercive for our liking. Right?  We don’t want to be associated with those who cram religion or faith down others’ throats and so we steer clear of this commandment.

The problem is it’s a commandment.  It’s what Christ has instructed us to do. In essence, it’s why we exist as Christians.  It’s both who we are Christians—because someone else made us disciples, and what we are to do as Christians—to go make disciples of others.

We are called to obey all that Christ has taught us. That includes loving our neighbor, loving our enemies, including the marginalized, humbly serving others, submitting our power, forgiving, and seeking justice.  All those things that sound easy by practically are very challenging are what we are admonished to do. And in doing those things, we should be teaching and encouraging others to do the same. Not forcing. Not coercing. But modeling in such a way that it compels others to follow Christ too.

Maybe you’re still reluctant?  Think of it this way:

We are each a disciple of Christ. You are a follower. You are an apprentice of sorts.  You try and emulate him in your daily life, sometimes with greater success than others.  But regardless, you follow Christ and seek to be more and more like him—more gracious, more loving, more humble, more compassionate, more inclusive, and more merciful.

You are a disciple. And, you are a disciple because someone taught you how. Another disciple taught you how to see with eyes of compassion, how to pray with conviction, how to read the Bible with interest, how to serve with humility, how to be blessed by giving to others. Someone else taught you the stories of Christ and what it is that he holds high. And because of them, you are here.

One disciple (or maybe more) made you a disciple through their example of kindness, or thoughtfulness, or conviction, or hope, or forgiveness, or grace.  They lived in such a way that compelled you to do the same.

And that’s what we are called to do. We are called to live as disciples of Christ in a way that compels others to follow in a way that rallies people to live for peace, justice, hope, reconciliation, and wholeness. To make disciples is to live authentically in the ways of Jesus and teach others to do the same.

Discipleship is not scary. It’s not condemning. It’s life-giving. It’s peace-making. It’s forgiveness offering.

And that’s what we want to be intentional about doing in the coming years.  Last weekend, the church council met to talk about and discern a vision for our church for the next couple of years.  In looking at the nature of our church, we decided that we are the family of God dedicated to caring for all, and our core values are: 1) Nurturing others, 2) Hospitality and welcome, 3) Spiritual formation and discipleship.  For us, (hopefully with a strong understanding of all of us as a church), living our discipleship means bringing people to the family of God, helping them feel a part of the love, welcome, and joy that we have experienced here at Wesley.  We want to nurture them, show them that they are important and special, and we want to help them grow in the ways of Christ. 

Wesley was started by families, and, by in large, throughout our history, we have consisted of families.  Families that were large and small, traditional and non-traditional, families that looked like us and families that didn’t.  We have been a family church. And as we look around our community, we can easily see more families that could be a part of the Wesley family.  There are families that are broken and blended, families that are healthy and some that are unhealthy, families that are religious and families that aren’t, families that are brown, and families that are black, families that are white, families that are Asian, and families that are Indian.  Families that were born here and families that weren’t.  Families that are rich and families that are poor. Families that are educated and families that are illiterate. There is a great diversity of families in our midst. They have so much to teach us and we have so much to give. 

And this family, our family through Christ, the brothers and sisters who gather here each week could fall in love. We could fall in love with the moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles, and all the kids that comprise these families.  Our hearts could grow even larger as we learn their stories and come to care for them. 

And we can live out our calling with them. We can disciple them. Some will be familiar with Christ’s ways and what he taught and how he lived. Some will make an easy transition into church life.  Others have never heard the stories. Others have never been told they are precious, or worthy or important. Others have never known true forgiveness. Others have never served a stranger or been reconciled to an enemy. Others have never known peace in their homes, or joy in their work. And it’s our job to disciple them.  It’s our job to model the life we have been called to live.  It’s our calling to love them and teach them to serve; to encourage them and affirm them.  It’s our role to pray with them and help them heal. 

God has given us such great gifts here at Wesley. I’m not sure many of you realize how amazingly blessed and gifted this church body is.  You all are a precious jewel in God’s kingdom. You have so much to offer, so much love to share, and just being with you is healing and redemptive for people.  God has such a promising future for this church. And to get there, we have to use our gifts. We have to reach out to others—in all of their diversity, and live our calling.  Christ’s commandment is simple, not easy, but simple, we must live as Christ taught us to live, and in so doing, we will show others what is possible through a life with Christ, and when they want that, we must teach them what to do.  We must live as Christ taught us to live, and in so doing, we will show others what is possible through a life with Christ, and when they want that, we must teach them what to do. 

We are called to make disciples of Jesus Christ. Not by mandate, but by loving acceptance and inclusion. We are called to see our church as a place that exists both for the people within these walls as well as the people beyond these walls. We are called to lead, for how else will people follow?  We are called to inspire, so that others might know true hope. Our task is not easy, but it is simple and straightforward—to live authentically in the ways of Christ and to teach others to do the same.  Amen.

Daniel 7-12

As I mentioned in the first 2 sermons, we have to cautious and attentive when reading biblical literature.  If we aren’t careful, we can go in with our own agenda and answers and only find what we are looking for rather than looking for and listening to what is really there. 

When I was little, one of my favorite books was There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.  It’s a little Golden book staring Grover, the blue furry guy from Sesame Street.  Now, the title indicates that there’s a monster at the end of the book and upon seeing that Grover gets scared.  He’s scared the entire book and does everything in his power to stop you from turning the pages.  He puts up ropes and boards and bricks to make it impossible to turn the pages.  I tried to find it to share it with all of you, but must not have it anymore.  Anyway, Grover is scared, and begs the reader not to keep turning pages.  He doesn’t want to get to the end of the book because there’s a monster there!  He doesn’t want to be attacked by a monster.  Now, of course, as a kid, I kept reading and loved the more fervent pleas as I went along to stop reading.  And then, at the end of the book, there is indeed a monster…do you know which one?  Grover.  That’s right.  Huggable, lovable, Grover is a monster and he’s at the end of the book.  All that time he was afraid of something and someone that should never have been feared. 

To me, that’s how many of us read the book of Daniel, afraid because we’ve heard that there is something horrible in the book.  We don’t want to persist in reading these scriptures because we are worried about the cataclysmic doom that will befall us if we dare to read on and hear what is going to happen to us.  But just like Grover, we have no reason to fear.  Our fears will not be actualized on the pages of the Bible, not in this book anyway.  So, let’s read about some monsters and try and uncover what’s really there. 

How many of you read chapters 7-9 and thought, “Good Lord have mercy! This is scary weird stuff!”  How many of you felt like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz saying, “Lions, and tigers, and bears, Oh my!”??  Except they were worse.  Not just lions and tigers and bears, but a lion with the wings of eagles, and  a leopard with 4 wings like a bird, and a bear with 3 ribs in its mouth, and then a four headed beast.  These sound like something out o Narnia or Harry Potter, not something from Ancient Babylon. 

At this point in chapter 7, some of us check out—it’s just way too weird and there’s no chance we’re going to understand what happens.  Right?  But there is.  All you have to do is read a bit further and get to the 2^nd half of chapter 7 and it tells you what is really happening.  Remember, much like parables, apocalyptic literature isn’t’ really about the thing that it’s about.

This vision isn’t about lions and tigers and bears. It’s not about mythological characters or a weird acid trip.  It’s actually about power and authority and the rulers of the land.  The 2^nd half of Daniel tells us this, “The 4 great beasts are 4 kingdoms that will rise from the earth. But the saints of the most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever—yes for ever and ever.” So the 4 beasts aren’t real. They weren’t going to appear in front of Daniel or the Israelites and take over the world.  Instead, each beast is symbolic.  Much like the metals of the statue we say in chapter 2.  Remember?  The gold head was Babylon. The silver chest was Medes.  The Bronze body was Persia and the steal legs were Greece. 

These beasts are much the same. Each one represents a succeeding kingdom.  Chapter 8 has a similar vision-this one with goats and rams and horns, but all represent kingdoms we’ve already seen before (chapter 8 tells us that)—Media, Persia, and Greece. 

Now, chapter 8 is one of those places where people get bunged up because they see and read certain words and hone in on those and then lose sight o everything else that is there.  Can anyone guess what those words are? 

They come from chapter 8 verse 17 when the angel says, “Understand that the vision concerns the time of the end.”  My guess is that most of us hear that and are led to certain thoughts.  Right?  Like what?

·         Destruction

·         Rapture

·         End of times

·         End of the world

Lots of people make that connection, but I we do that here, we will get WAY off track.  This isn’t about that.  Not in our terms or our day.

This book and these visions are isolated to a very specific time in history--from around 680-650 BC to 160 BC.  Daniel’s visions are not about our future.  They were particular to the Israelites’ exile in Babylon—through each of the kingdoms represented by the beasts followed by a return to Jerusalem and the Promised Land.

The “end” that is spoken of is the end of Israelite suffering in exile. Chapter 10 chronicles what will happen in those kingdoms in the years after Daniel—who will rule, who will fall, who will be in power, and, in the end, how the suffering of the exile will end. 

That’s it.  No big scary monster.  No mass destruction of the earth. No flying beasts. But the rise and all of powers, and the promised redemption of God’s people.  After all that worry, it’s only the blessing and promise of a loving God. 

Daniel is not a book to be feared.  In a lot of ways, to us now, it’s a history book chronicling the cycle of power during the Israelite exile.  It’s not a book of God’s wrath or destruction.  It’s one that should bring us peace and hope.  After all—what we see is that no matter which countries take power, their era will come to an end and God’s reign will overcome. That, my friends, is good news. 

Matthew 25:1-13

I’d venture to say this is one of the most challenging parables in the Bible. Everyone seems to have a different take on it and a number of people just seem to avoid digging into it all together. It’s a tough one but we’re going to do our best to make our way through it.

Ok, so the scene is wedding preparations. In ancient Middle Eastern culture, wedding celebrations were a big ordeal and cause for the whole town to stop their daily chores and join in. this would have been one of the main events for the year and one of the only places of diversion for months. After all there weren’t clubs or movies or theaters or opera houses to go to. There were weddings. And those were infrequent—so when they happened, people went.

In this scene we have 10 bridesmaids—a number that might have signified to Jewish readers that this was a wedding for a messiah (remember Jesus wasn’t the only one… “Messiah” literally means anointed, a term which was first used with King David and was used with various kings after David down to Jesus). And these bridesmaids, like most, were supposed to help with the celebration. They were there to make it great; which for an evening wedding would have included keeping the lamps lit. Now, also in the custom, the groom determined when the festivities would actually begin. Everyone had been invited and everyone was to be prepared, but ultimately, the arrival of the groom started the party—so if he wanted to build suspense or anticipation, he merely needed to wait, and if he wanted to throw in an extra twist or added surprise, he’d wait until the middle of the night.

The one major rule about the surprise arrival was that there must be a messenger sent ahead to announce the groom was coming. We see this messenger in verse 6 when he proclaims, “Look! The bridegroom is coming! Come out and meet him!” 

When he arrived at the bride’s house, he would have taken her home and consummated the marriage—only it wouldn’t have been a celebration of the covenant, but actual proof of the covenant. Intercourse = marriage. Then they would go back out as the newlyweds and celebrate with their gifts—they would celebrate for days, maybe even a full week.

So, when the groom arrives the party starts, that means everything has to be ready to go…after all that’s why the messenger goes ahead of him…to give people time to do those final preparations. In our case, the ladies light their lamps, only 5 are short on oil. They ask to borrow some, but the other 5, the wise 5, are reluctant and say there wouldn’t be enough for any of them in that case and send the other girls to find some for themselves. Those girls probably had to wake a shopkeeper since it was the middle of the night and there were no 24 hour convenience stores. They hurried off and were delayed an unspecified amount of time only to return and find the party had begun without them and they were not allowed in.

Now this is a tough parable in part because we struggle to find grace here. There are no second chances. There isn’t even sharing. There is simply a cold shoulder and no way to make it right. Even with sufficient oil on the 2nd time, there is no way to redeem their prior wrong. A wrong, which many of us even struggle to see as an actual wrong. I mean, they were ready. They did have oil. They were there and waiting. They did it all right. And no one would have thought twice if the groom had shown up just a little earlier. (except that if the party was to last for days, there lamps would still have needed to keep burning, they still would have run out, there still would have been a problem, it was all a matter of time…)

And that’s the parable. Essentially. But, as we’ve learned over the last few weeks….(a parable isn’t actually about what the parable is about). And so we have to discern what it’s actually about and that’s where the second major challenge of this parable lies. Most of us are ready to jump right to where we fit in. Are we foolish or are we wise? Do we have enough oil? What does the oil represent and how do we stock up?

But we shouldn’t go that far that fast. After all, Jesus didn’t first share this story with us. Instead, he shared it in a Jewish region during the first century.

Now interpretation on this next point varies too, but I think it’s most likely this story was intended to be for and about Jesus’ relationship with the Jews. After all, the Jews were the one waiting for the Messiah. I think the foolish ones, the ones who lacked proper oil were those who had given up hope. After all, anyone truly expecting the wedding party would have expected it to go on for days—would have been prepared as a boy scout, ready for all circumstances, and yet these weren’t. Sure they went for more when the bridegroom was actually approaching, but I think really, that was because they were forced to see that he was there. But any of us can do that, scurry at the last minute because the impossible came true…the unexpected actually happened. But how many of us actually plan and prepare? How many of us are really ready? So, in the ancient sense, the foolish bridesmaids represent those who had lost hope. Those who were unsure that the Messiah would ever come again. Those who doubted the party would happen, and so they only did the minimum, expecting to go home, disappointed yet again.

But this passage doesn’t just stay in the ancient, once we understand what it meant then, we have to bring it to us now….and if we make the parallel, that we too are waiting for the Messiah—in a different era, with different expectations, for different reasons, but still waiting. And some of us are convicted and ready because we know it will happen. And others of us have given up hope. We do only what is necessary because ultimately, some time somewhere, we lost hope. Ultimate hope. Maybe not all hope. But the necessary hope that makes us believe that Christ will come again. The ultimate hope that wars can and will cease, that peace will prevail in unreal and unimaginable ways like lion lying down with the lambs. We’re unconvinced, and so we are ill-prepared. Some of us are foolish bridesmaids. Some of us are wise. Which are you?

I mentioned in the beginning that it is hard to find grace in this passage and one very wise theologian suggests that the grace for us is simply having the story—knowing that some have lost hope gives us the chance to restore hope. Knowing that some are ill-prepared gives us the chance to be prepared—to live with conviction, to listen to the hopeful and be caught up in their enthusiasm.

Let's talk about Grace

Over the last couple of months, I have had a number of conversations with folks about what it means to be united Methodist.  We’ve talked about what we believe, what is distinctive from other denominations , as well as how we are similar to folks in other denominations.  And even in Bible study, we’ve talked about church laws and structure and many have remarked, “I never knew that!”  So we’re going to take the next few weeks to go deeper into what it means to be a United Methodist. 

                Today, we’re going to start with grace.  Some would say, “we are people of grace.” And we are, but not because we are the only ones to receive grace. God’s grace is for all, it’s not reserved for a select few.  Grace is a gift that God gives us.  We can’t earn it. We don’t deserve it. It is freely given to all not because of what we’ve done to deserve it, but because of God’s abundant love for each of us.  There aren’t contingencies.  There are no strings attached.  It’ a loving gift offered to all. 

                Now, some would say, “grace is grace is grace.”  But John Wesley, the founder of Methodism and the namesake of our church, says something different.  He says, “Well, grace is grace, but, it does different things at different times in our faith walk.”  And to distinguish between those different things, he came up with 3 names for grace:

1)      Prevenient grace

2)     Justifying grace

3)      Sanctifying grace

In some ways, to say, “we are people of grace” means we categorize our faith journey in terms of these types of grace.

#1  Prevenient grace.  Prevenient means: comes before.  This is the grace that connects us to God, no matter what.  It’s the hold God has on us from before we are born until after we die.  It’s the grace that’s there when we don’t’ know God, when we are selfish and self-involved.  God uses it to call out to us, but even when we deny it or ignore it, it’s still there. 

Now, I’m a visual person, so I like to see things in order to understand them better.  So I think of it like this.  Prevenient grace is this rope.  God ties it around us before we are born and whether we know it or not, God has a hold on us through prevenient grace.    Even if I am completely unaware, totally clueless, God has this hold on me. I can’t go anywhere that is beyond God’s reach.  And I can’t do anything to untie this knot.  God’s got a hold on me….period.  That’s prevenient grace. 

The second type of grace is justifying grace.  This is the grace that draws us into awareness of who we are and who God is.  It shows us that we are sinful and broken and God is perfect and forgiving and that we need God.  It is the grace that prompts us to repent and ask for forgiveness and it is the grace that forgives.  To say it “justifies us” means it sets us right with God. This is what God does for us through Jesus—God bears our sins, sets us free, and gives us new life.”

John Wesley says it this way: “[Our] sins, all [our] past sins, in thought, word, and deed, ‘are covered’, are blotted out; shall not be remembered or mentioned against [us], any more than if they had not been.  God will not inflict on [a] sinner what [we] deserved to suffer, because the Son of [God’s] love hath suffered for [us].  And from the time we are ‘accepted through the Beloved,’ ‘reconciled to God through his blood’, he loves and blesses and watches over us for good, even as if we had never sinned.”

God forgives us, not because of what we’ve done to earn forgiveness, but because of what Christ did—at no cost to us—but all FOR us.  Some folks talk about justifying grace in terms of our conversion.  That’s the moment where we acknowledge our sin, see and proclaim Christ’s sacrifice, repent and ask for forgiveness.  It is in that moment we are saved from the eternal consequences of our own sins.  Justifying grace is a part of our journey throughout—we don’t stop sinning simply because we believe in Jesus.  All professing Christians sin.  That’s why we need God.  That’s why we receive grace.  And we need justifying grace to keep forgiving us for our sins.  Each time we repent we receive justifying grace. Each time we take communion, God pardons us through justifying grace. 

To go back to our visual, God has a hold on us through prevenient grace, that’s the rope.  Remember it’s there and connected to us whether we know it or not.  But then when we see the rope, when we understand that God is on the other side of it, beckoning us to draw near, that’s because of justifying grace. 

Now, some folks are inclined to leave it at that.  Once you’ve professed Christ and asked for forgiveness you’re done.  But Wesley says no.  That’s not enough.  Faith life shouldn’t be simply sinning and asking for forgiveness and sinning and asking for forgiveness over and over again with nothing in our life changing.  An attitude of “I can do what I want because God will forgive me,” is essentially hedonism.  But it’s not how we walk faithfully.  There’s more.  We have to engage this rope and try and get closer to God.  Justifying grace is holding onto the rope, but we need something to make us use the rope to get closer to God.

That something is sanctifying grace.  Sanctifying grace helps us grow and learn, it teaches us to be more like Christ with each step we take.  This is the grace where God says, “I love you just as you are, but too much to leave you that way.”  Sanctifying grace gives us the courage, wisdom, and strength to keep saying “no” to sin and “yes” to God.  When we use sanctifying grace to grow in relationship with God, we bear the fruits of the spirit as found in Galatians 5:22-23:

·         love,

·          joy,

·         peace,

·         patience,

·         kindness,

·         goodness,

·         faithfulness,

·         gentleness

·         self-control

We see more of these as sanctifying grace takes a stronger and stronger hold in our lives. This is where the real work of faith lies. Growing closer to God and becoming more like Christ is a continuous journey of self-reflection and self-discipline.  It can be very difficult. But it also reaps some of the greatest rewards as we love God more deeply and see God more clearly. This is also where we see others with greater insight and treat them with greater compassion.

To use our visual again, sanctifying grace is what helps us pull ourselves closer to God.  Now, the thing about sanctification is we can work at it a lot, or we can work at it a little, or we can refuse to work at it at all.  That’s all our choice.  God never forces us to be faithful—that is a choice we make. God constantly offers us grace—wherever we are in our journey. Faith is our response. 

So, we are saved by grace through faith.  If we refuse to receive the gift, which is salvation, then we won’t have it. God can give us gift after gift after gift. But if we leave them all unopened then we haven’t actually received it. Believing in who God is and what God has done and can do is faith—it’s how we open that gift to truly experience what God has for us.

(Summarize)

Matthew 27 & 28--Easter sermon

I have had Judas on my heart for the last couple of days. There are lots of people who demonize him for his betrayal of Jesus. Others who demonize him for committing suicide.

But these last two days have given me a heart and a sense of compassion for Judas. I believe Holy week as such, the week before the crucifixion, was not-so-holy the year Jesus died. I mean think about it: Mob mentality. Persecution. Pride. Ignorance. Betrayal. Murder. Not really a holy combination. And when things are not holy, there is often a palpable presence of evil.

I don't know if you've ever felt the power of evil...the presence of evil...not simply in some emotional-temptation way, but in a physical way....cold, weighty, dark. It's debilitating. It's suffocating. 

Being in a place that dark, that enveloped by evil and having dark thoughts is a desperately scary place to be. It's lonely. It's isolating. And, as one might assume, it can be deadly. There is no reason there. Logic won't work. I remember counseling a friend one summer in college. She was suicidal. I knew from previous conversations that she had been there before and so somehow I wasn't alarmed when she told me that summer. We talked and I reminded her about her family and how much they loved her and the life ahead of her and....and...and...it didn't matter. There was no reasoning with her. The place of darkness and despair where she was did not welcome logic. 

I do not remember how our conversation ended. But I do know that she is still alive and well today. It wasn't until later that year that I finally had a glimpse of that reason-less place where she had been. I hit rock bottom emotionally and it felt like there was no coming up for air. I was ready to die. Really ready to die. I don't know what stopped me then, but I am grateful I did not go ahead with my plan.

I have felt the overwhelming power of darkness. I have been plagued by evil thoughts of worthlessness and hopelessness and I have counseled with many others who have dealt with the same. I have heard stories from the depths of despair as people begged for God to do something in their lives and have prayed earnestly with them for God’s light to shine and Jesus’ victory to be made real. 

Friday I felt the overwhelming presence of evil. I couldn't even track it to one particular moment or thing, but it was there--dark and heavy. Deadening, sucking the life out of me. And I thought of Judas. I thought of how powerful the presence of evil must have been that week. How consuming it had to have been to convince the masses that Jesus, the Son of God needed to die. I'm sure it was palpable. I doubt there was much reason available there--we see that in the trials of Christ. No reason, just accusation and judgment. And then Judas' betrayal in the garden. But more striking still, his suicide. I'm sure that by collaborating to kill your friend, your mentor, you teacher, a great healer, and the Son of God, that the presence of evil became suffocating. My guess is the only way Judas thought he would ever breathe again was to die. And I hurt for him. I hurt that he didn't know that death on the cross would not be the end of the story. My heart broke that he would never hear or see that part of the gospel--the part where Jesus raises from the dead after he has conquered sin and death.

Judas didn't know the story. So he didn't have the hope. He couldn't have the hope for it had not yet happened. And there was no possibility of finding the light in the midst of the darkness. And I hurt for him.

And then it occurred to me that there are others in Judas' place...no they haven't facilitated the death of Jesus--not in that direct way...but they are like Judas in that they don't know the story. So they don't have the hope. And without the story, without the hope, there is no possibility of finding the light in the midst of the darkness. 

I would say hell looks different for different people. For one person hell is failing classes and getting kicked out of school. For another it is when a parent dies. For another it is not being able to hold her newborn baby because she is in the Neonatal ICU. For another it is knowing that she will never be able to see her child grow up. For another it is losing a spouse and not being able to grow old together. For another it is divorce. For another it is facing his spouse’s addiction and watching it ravage their family. For another it is losing a job and finding it impossible to find work. For another it is being sick and having no health care and no insurance. For another it is chronic pain. Another chronic illness. For another it is sending a child off to war. For another it is living in a war torn country hearing bombs and gun shots day in and day out. For another it is being abused by her husband. 

Hell isn’t just some eternal destination to be avoided. Hell is something we are bound to experience at least once in our lives. It will look, or has looked, different for each of us.

And without hope, we can be ravaged by the pain of evil. We can be overtaken by the feelings that nothing will ever change and nothing will ever get better. We need the gospel. We need Christ’s victory on the cross, the victory over sin and death to tell us our hell will end. We need God’s prophets to say there will be a different day in our future, a day where God’s glory will prevail and there will be victory and fruitfulness, contentment and fulfillment. We need the empty tomb. Even for those of us who have been believers for years, we need Easter as a regular reminder that God is the most powerful and that God will prevail over sin and death. After all, even as believers, we are still human and our bound to pass through hell, the difference is, we know the story—we have the hope. 

But there aren’t just those of us who do believe or have believed for years in this world, there are many who have never heard the Gospel story of hope. There are thousands, if not millions, going through their own version of hell who are stuck like Judas. They don’t know the story. They don’t know the hope. They don’t know that Christ can overcome their hell too. 

And that's where our responsibility lies. For those of us that know the story, we must spread the gospel--the hope. We must make known the rest of the story--the part where death and sin and shame do not have the final word, and we must shine God's light for people so that they might know there is the possibility of escaping the darkness--of finding life (again).

The Gospel reading from Matthew tells us of the women finding the empty grave and being told to go and tell the story. People needed to know that Christ was alive. They needed to know that God was more powerful than the rulers and authorities of this world—more powerful than Cesar, more powerful than Pilate, more powerful than the religious leaders. God’s justice was greater than any injustice that could be executed here on earth. Go and tell the story! And then the women meet Jesus and he too tells them to go and share the story…so they go and tell and the word spreads and so does the hope…it spreads so far that it reaches the ends of the earth…it spread so far that it reached each of us. 2000 years later. We know the story. We have the hope. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it. 

Today is the day of victory. Today’s is the story of hope! Go and tell the story!