Hope In Darkness

Re-posted from facebook. 
A sermon manuscript from October 17, 2010.

With continued hope as we face new times of darkness...

Readings: Genesis 32:22-31 & Luke 18:1-8

Today the Bible speaks to us

     of struggle and blessing,

          of persistence and prayer.

Today, just as it was centuries ago –

     the power of hope is alive,

          and so is the power of despair.

Faithfulness is just as complex

     and God’s transforming love 
          as desperately needed as ever.

The power of hope was witnessed 
     across the globe this past week.

          We sat in front of televisions and computers, 

               even our cell phone screens,

                    to watch the climactic chapter 
               of a two-month drama unfold.

33 miners in Chile emerged

     from under 2,000 feet of cold rock

          after 70 days of captivity in a collapsed mine.

They survived because of their own persistence 
     and determination,

          and because of the ingenuity of those 

               determined they would be rescued.

We heard about the makeshift camp 
     that grew up around the mine –

          a camp named Esperanza…

               Hope.

Like today’s gospel reading,

     this is a story about the foolishness and power 
               of tenacious faith:

          faith that will not count the cost 
               in seeking to preserve life;

          faith that will chip away bit by bit 

               at whatever stands in the way of love;

          faith that will not be deterred even in the face of death.

Norma Lagues watched her son 
     pulled out of the rescue capsule Fenix

          and said it was like watching him being born again.

A sister-in-law of miner Mario Gomez, Belgica Ramirez,

     talked about how a new life was about to begin for them…

33 men raised up from under the cold ground to new life.

Yet, I can’t imagine the struggle of those 70 days –

     buried in darkness,

          truly surrounded by death and danger.

     When he had been rescued, another miner, 
Mario Sepulveda, said:

     “I was with God and I was with the devil.

          They both fought for me.

               God won.”

What a fight it must have been.

     I wonder if that fight felt anything like the wrestling match

          at the River Jabbok.

     In darkness with a fearfully uncertain future before him,

          Jacob struggled with a mysterious opponent…

               was it a man, a river demon, God?

     The story makes it hard to tell.

          But in the dark,

               it probably mattered less to Jacob 
                    who his opponent was

                         than what the cost of losing would be.

Most of us know, like Jacob, what it is to be in the dark,

     in the midst of the struggle,

          with an uncertain future and a relentless opponent

We know what it’s like when the fight has gone out of us…

     when whatever we are fighting against seems too strong…

          when it doesn’t seem anyone 

               has pitched a Camp Esperanza for us.

Hope: it’s harder as a solitary endeavor, isn’t it?

     And it’s hard not to feel alone in the dark.

And that makes me think of another story

     that has captured and broken my heart over recent weeks.

How to speak to the cumulative anguish that we’ve felt

     hearing about more and more gay youth 
          taking their own lives?

Tyler, Seth, Raymond…

     and so many beautiful children of God.

Their lives have been cut short by the pain of the darkness…

     of feeling unacceptable, ridiculed…

          alone in the dark.

But in the midst of that darkness, that loneliness, that struggle,

     I have also been watching something beautiful happen…

           hopefully you’ve heard about it, too.

People across the country are gathering their voices

     to speak hope into the darkness….

     to offer fresh energy for the fight…

     to tell those in the midst of the struggle 
          that they are not alone.

They’re doing this through a YouTube video campaign

     called the “It Gets Better” Project.

          Through it, many gay, lesbian, 

               bisexual and transgendered people

                    (and some of their straight allies)

                         are publicly sharing their own stories

                              and their promises that life gets better.

     Celebrities and city councilmen,

          theatre companies and accountants…

               all plead that youth feeling hopeless and alone

                    stick around for the chapters of life 

                         that won’t be so dark and lonely.      

     In his video, Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson says,

          “You can have what you hope for…

               because God hopes for that life for you, too.”

On the one hand, it is tragic that such a campaign is necessary

     and that so many lives have already been lost.

On the other, it is nothing less 
     than the love and power of the gospel

          to send a message of hope 
               to a stranger who needs to hear it.

If you listen to these stories, you’ll find that

     the hope they promise is not about happily ever afters

               and handsome princes or princesses…

          It is not a fairytale hope, but a hope born of shared pain.

               And when you hear that kind of hope,

                    I think you just know that you can believe it...

               the shared wound and love tell you it’s true.

I think if he were walking the earth, doing ministry today,

     Jesus might make an “It Gets Better” video.

          Because he, also, knew the depths of suffering

               and reached out to others who suffered.

     He promised the hope of something better

               than the brokenness of their struggles.

          And, he even loved us enough 
               to truly live in the darkness,

                    be wounded and even killed in it,

                         but finally to overcome it,

                              in order to free the others he loves.

Jacob wrestled in the dark.

    Jesus did, too.

          The widow woman in today’s story struggled 

               in the darkness of injustice. 

And we are called to be persistent, as they were…

     In our struggles…
          as we live our lives of faith and as we pray.

The image of Jacob wrestling with God, in particular,

     makes me think about not only what, 
          and when, but how we pray.

When we have daycare chapel on Wednesdays,

      Each week, Pr. Coffey and I invite the children 
          to bow their heads

              and use their “prayers hands.”

You know how to do it, right?

But, what if we thought of the story of Jacob 
          as a model for prayer?

     What might our prayer hands look like then?

I have a friend who usually can’t hold still when he prays.

     He paces, his arms tensed…sometimes he jumps;

          Sometimes he stands, 
               but shifting his weight from foot to foot;

                    sometimes he’s on his knees.

Now, I’m fairly certain 
          there’s not really a right or wrong way to pray.

     And many of us wouldn’t feel comfortable

          doing it my friend Mike’s way.

     But, maybe we need to know that it’s okay to pray and pace,

          and even to throw a few wild punches now and then…

               that our “prayer hands” don’t always have to be the same,

               because what we pray about isn’t always the same.

     Maybe being meek, and quiet isn’t always what we need to do.

So, is there comfort in knowing that some days…

    maybe even today…

          our prayers will feel like boxing matches in the dark…

               and we may not be sure we can make another round?

I think our comfort is that,

     as we struggle, God is close at hand.

Though the struggle of faith
         and prayer may leave us wounded,

    God isn’t going to leave us.

          But rather, God knows us and claims us.

We are claimed, just like Jacob was claimed 

          and given the new name – Israel.    

     The darkness may not be gone…

          the blessing may feel far off…

               but God is with us and God 

                    has pitched a Camp Esperanza for us.

                         God has hopes and dreams for each of us.

That may not seem like much comfort sometimes.

     I don’t want to be claimed…I want to be cured!

          I don’t want a new name…I want a way out!

               I don’t want anyone to be with me in this dark place…

                    I don’t want to be here at all!

God’s presence in the darkest places 
         would be a small comfort, indeed,

    if ours was a small God.

But this God who is hoping, 

     and weeping and striving with us in the dark

          is the God who brought Jonah through the depths of the sea

               alive, in a fish’s belly.

This is the God who protected the murderer Cain

     by marking him as God’s own.

This is the God who rained down food in a desert

     for the wandering emancipated slaves from Israel.

This is the God who stood with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednigo

     in a blazing fire.

This is the God who became one of us…

     and lived as we live…

          even to the point of suffering a humiliating death.

And this is the same God who came back 

     and walked alongside his disciples…

          when they were lost in the darkness of grief…

               so much so that they didn’t even recognize their Lord.

This is the God who meets us now,

    and is near enough to grapple with, but also to embrace us.

This God is nothing like the unjust judge of Jesus’ parable.

     God’s back is not turned on us

          until some magic number of pleas have been made.

We don’t have to wear God out with our worries…

     because we are so close to God’s heart

          that our worries and fears are always known to God.

What we learn from Jacob and Jesus today

     is what persistent faith looks like…

          It looks like Jacob wrestling in the dark,

              and like the widow who staged 

                   a sit-in on the courthouse lawn

                        and demanded justice.

                              It looks like Jesus,

                                   in the manger, on the cross, 

                   and with us always.

                

          It looks like 33 men being raised up 
               from under the ground,

          And like a strangers face on a computer screen

               offering words of love and hope.

And, when we can’t fight anymore,

     when we are spent,

          so exhausted that we can’t even stand,

God does not abandon us, God does not sit passively by,

          God’s hope for us is a living, moving hope.

               God finishes the fight.

     
We could never have defeated the darkness alone,

     but we never had to.
Christ has gone before us, deep into darkness,

     and Jesus is beside us in the dark struggles.

And darkness and struggle do not have the last word.

The impossible thing has already been done…

     but that doesn’t mean that what’s left is easy.

          The struggle of faith remains…as we know all too well,

               but the hope beyond the darkness 
                    is trustworthy and true.

It is a hope that pierces thousands of feet of rock,

     and the depths of loneliness, and despair.

          It moves in and through God’s children and the church…

               and even when we are in our own places of darkness,

          it is the very presence of God…fighting for us.

And God wins.

Amen.