We can be afraid of the dark, but we cannot let that fear rule our life. Lent 2C Grace Lockport 17 March 2019

+In this morning’s readings, Abram (soon to be renamed Abraham) had a vision. It begins with God telling Abram to “not be afraid,” which is followed by a lengthy conversation after which Abram falls asleep and a “deep and terrifying darkness” descends upon him. When he awakens, God makes a covenant with him about the promised land.
While all of this is good fodder for a sermon, what I want to focus on this morning  is fear and darkness.
 After all, it’s Lent, right?
When I was a kid I was terrified of the dark. My mom would leave the closet light on so a little bit of light would shine into the room. In the days following Pete’s death, nightfall was extremely difficult for me, so the phrase, a “deep and terrifying darkness” speaks to me. In my lifetime of discomfort with the dark has come a desire to confront the darkness—both mine personally and that of our faith.
Yes, there is darkness in our faith---it’s called Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday---very dark days. Holy Saturday—what my dad used to call Easter Even---fascinates me. I am strangely drawn to the day when our faith is shrouded in total darkness. When we’re stuck in what can feel like an unbearable absence. Jesus’ body lies shrouded in the tomb. Lifeless...there’s no celebration of Eucharist on this day... it is a quiet, empty, sad day.
This is important because we must experience the absence of our Lord to fully embrace his stunning presence on Easter morning. We must consider life without our Lord in order to embrace him every other day.
So what does this have to do with our readings? Lots.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus cries, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it.” In this excerpt of Luke’s Gospel Jesus is predicting his death…throughout the remaining weeks of Lent we hear stories of Jesus’ steady descent into the darkness that is Jerusalem…as he and his friends move ever closer to the city, the anxiety of the ruling class—both King Herod, and the high priests of the temple----increase, worried that this gospel Jesus is preaching  puts their way of life (where they are in charge and everyone else does what they tell them to do) at great risk. As the anxiety of those committed to resist change at all costs rises, the threats against Jesus become more intense and the lamenting of Jesus about what appears to be coming, grows.
The final line of today’s Gospel is a foreshadowing of Palm Sunday----"Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord” is shouted by the followers of Jesus upon his triumphant entry into Jerusalem on the Sunday that begins Holy week. The same voices that shout “Blessed is the one” will shout, a mere five days later, “CRUCIFY HIM.”
On some level Jesus knows this. He suspects that all those who are professing their love for him will turn on him, leaving him hanging in humiliation with only his mother, Mary Magdalene, John and a handful of other women there to witness his death.
On some level he knows this---he feels this---hence his lament over Jerusalem.
And over us. Look around the world…we are Jerusalem. We have become intolerant and afraid. We have let the darkness win.
We are Jerusalem and Jesus is crying for us. He’s crying over a world where intolerance is out of control, where hate seems to have the upper hand, where 50 people worshipping the God of Abraham in their mosque are crucified by bullets of hate.
Jesus cries over us and what has happened to us.
     Folks, darkness has the upperhand and the only way to defeat it, the only way to have it NOT rule our lives is to descend into it, just like Abram did in his dream, just like Jesus did on Holy Saturday for only by confronting it do we discover that the darkness is beatable. That we can, that we must, that God willing we will defeat this darkness by understanding that if we hand it to Jesus, if we leave it on this very altar, light will win, life will win, love will win.
My friends, we can be afraid of the dark, but we cannot let that fear rule our life.
    As the body of our Lord lay in the tomb on Holy Saturday, He, Jesus of Nazareth descended into death and lifted all souls, every last one of them into the joys of heaven, giving us the perfect antidote to darkness: eternal light, eternal life, eternal love.
 Be not afraid, dear people of God, the hold of darkness is not permanent. The lament of Jesus is not the last word.
Turning over darkness reveals the light.
Turning over fear reveals the love.
Turning over the absence of Holy Saturday brings the joy of Jesus’ presence on Easter morn.
Darkness is not to be avoided, it is to be faced.
Darkness is not to be feared, it is to be challenged.
Darkness will not win, if we, the people of light refuse to give into it.
For all of us struggling with darkness, be not afraid, for light is always just on the other side of the dark. Guaranteed.
Amen.