This Week's Sermons

Sermons for the Month
Betrayal without Bitterness
DATE: November 15, 1998
SERVICE: Pentecost XXIV
TEXT: Luke 21:5-19
"To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN

I have good news and I have bad news. The pledges for the "Buildings and Grounds" is in and members of Faith Lutheran Church have overscribed our $40,000 goal by approximately $2500. Wonderful. Amazing. Congratulations. The bad news is that someday not one stone, not one window, not one parament in this beautiful building we treasure so much will be left standing. All for which we have strived for so long, our remodeling, our renovation will be destroyed due to the sins of the people.

If you feel about now ready to walk out, sign a petition to get rid of me, or are just plain angry, panicked, afraid then you are in touch with what the disciples felt when Jesus said just about the same thing to them and the leaders of ancient Israel.
Our gospel text for today records Jesus' words to his disciples as they walked on a road outside Jerusalem. Jesus told his disciples as they looked from the Mount of Olives at the beautiful, newly remodeled temple of Jerusalem: 6 "As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.".

It may help you to know, that at the time of Jesus, the Jerusalem Temple had been undergoing a renovation and renewal for almost 30 years. Herod had spared no expense to adorn it with precious gems, wood inlay, gold and massive stone masonry. It was a wonder of the ancient world. Everyone was proud of the Temple in Jerusalem.
Yet our text appointed for this morning has Jesus telling his friends, all of it, every stone, every parapet, everyone gold ornament, will be destroyed. Why? Because of humanity's sin. Jesus predicted that war and insurrection, nation fighting nation, earthquakes, famines, plagues would eventually come and destroy it. Jesus went on to anticipate that his followers would be arrested, persecuted for their faith. But saddest of all, Jesus says, "you will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends and they will put you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name."
It was a sad, frustrating, frighteningly familiar story. Two young men were arrested for arranging with a big-time drug trafficker to import cocaine into their community. The 22-year-olds would have become the drug's main dealers, selling coke to all the teenagers they could interest in, then addict to, that potent pleasure drug. Because this deal crossed state lines, it was the FBI who finally moved in and made the arrests, breaking up the alliance between the locals and their out-of-state supplier, cutting off the drug supply to the teens of that community.
What was so shocking about this otherwise all too common story? What brought this drug story prominent play on network news? The community was Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. The two young men arrested were members of the Amish community. The teenaged customers cut off from their drug supply were young Amish boys.
The parents of all these young people were like every parent: stunned to think such a thing could happen in their community, shocked that such a drug tragedy could involve their own children. But this story shakes all parents. For if the lure and danger of drugs can infiltrate the cloistered, close-knit community that the Amish have intentionally built up as a bulwark against the sins and seductions of the 20th, now 21st-century world, what chance do any of the rest of us have at keeping our own families, schools and communities safe?
Perhaps the most disturbing and insidious part of this story for the Amish community was that this betrayal came at the hands of two of their own. It was not outsiders but insiders who jeopardized their youths' safety and compromised the moral standards of their tradition. The betrayal came from within.
Part of Amish culture allows young men between the ages of 16 and 24 to take a few breaks from the strict rules and regulations of their otherwise microscopically legislated lives. The community intentionally schedules events known as "hoedowns" as "time-out" moments. These are unchaperoned events where young people can carouse a bit, sowing a few behavioral wild oats before baptism as adults and while still remaining within the supposedly safe confines of their community.
It was exactly at this time when nobody was watching, which means that everyone was trusting, that the betrayal occurred. Along with the Amish community itself, we are all appalled at the depth of betrayal this act entailed.
Some of our severest cultural penalties have always been reserved for those who commit the most intimate acts of betrayal. Some form of taboo and punishment against adultery and incest, the two greatest forms of personal betrayal, are found in nearly every moral and legal code in human civilization. The capital crime of treason, the ultimate form of communal betrayal, is likewise understood by nearly all cultures. While all of us admit to various shortcomings and sins of varying degrees, those who fall into these special categories of "betrayers" are still considered the ultimate "power sinners."
There is no anger like that reserved for a spouse who has violated vows and broken the covenant of marriage. How many divorced individuals do you know who can speak fondly of an ex-spouse who left them for another?
There is no revulsion like that reserved for men or women who sexually abuse their own children. Even in the toughest, most violence-filled cell blocks of our prisons, the child molester is seen as the lowest of the low and is often singled out for jailhouse "justice." There is no repugnance like that reserved for traitors who betray their country, their homeland, for money, power or sheer spite. Even in these days of bloodless civility and bored cynicism, treason remains a crime where even the nonviolent white-collar "spy" can be sentenced to death. There is no greater infamy, no greater insult, than to be branded "a Judas."
There was a reason early Christians did some things: left secret signs (the fish) to mark safe places to worship or seek a night's refuge; wrote secret messages (in the languages of their hymns and liturgies) to communicate with other Christians.
The first century was a dangerous world in which to be a Christian. The political winds of tolerance and intolerance blew hot and cold depending upon the whims of the emperor, the mood of the regional rulers, the fanaticism of local synagogue officials or the tempers of the marketplace crowds. 12 they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name.
But the greatest threats to the small, struggling Christian communities were internal. Early Christians who suffered martyrdom were often turned in by insiders. The names of Christians were given to the officials by these "informers." To make matters worse, these "informers" also coldly recommended what kinds of tests could be given to see whether someone was really a Christian.
Insider-informers knew that a true Christian would 1) never curse Christ, 2) never pray to Roman gods, and 3) never offer wine and incense to the emperor's statue. If any accused Christian willingly participated in all three of these, he/she was set free.
Jesus' words in Luke's gospel lesson this morning give a chilling message. It says we can expect to be betrayed and to suffer at the hands of those we know the best and love the most. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name.
Jesus' words crumble the safe confines of the place we call church. Jesus' words remind us that some of the harshest criticism, some of the most unpleasant treatment, some of the most hurtful persecution disciples of Jesus will face is from within our own families, among our closest friends, even from our brothers and sisters in the church.
There is an old saying: "The perversion of the best yields the worst." Within the body of Christ, we experience the greatest intimacy, the greatest compassion, the greatest encouragement. But it is also within the body of Christ that we can experience the greatest hurt, the greatest pain, the greatest betrayal.
And as every here knows, you can't have one without the other. There is a high price for community: It's called vulnerability. But without vulnerability, you can't have community. "Surely not in the church," you say. "The body of Christ is supposed to be different. We aren't like the world. We've been redeemed."
So you think we're better than Jesus? If our Lord and Savior suffered pain and betrayal at the hands of his closest friends - and all 12 of the disciples betrayed him, not just Judas - do you think we're any better than our Lord? Each one of the disciples was a double agent. You think we're better than Peter, than John, than Thomas, than James?
There is one thing certain in life: The people you love the most can and often will be the ones who hurt you the most. You might as well get over it., get ready for it, get help. get whatever you need to deal with it. But that's the price of love.
The church is filled with people like you and me - people struggling to do right, but people often falling down, failing miserably, messing up. This does not even factor into consideration the 10 percent of the population that are afflicted with major personality disorders. The church gets at least its share of them.
But Luke's gospel refuses to let this prophetic word end without a ring of hopefulness and ultimate triumph. Jesus' final words call us to faithfulness in the face of life's challenges and torments. We can count on this when we live in community: We will be rejected. We will be betrayed. We will be treated cruelly.
But you can also count on this: God is with you. God's grace will be sufficient. Our souls will not be imperiled by the assaults we suffer at the hands of enemies and friends so long as we lean on Jesus. God will never abandon us. Christ's love can never be taken from us. We can be "more than conquerors, through him who loved us."
Bernie Siegel, in his book How to Live Between Office Visits, states flatly: "The only thing that is going to save people and save the world is if we forgive and love each other. And then healing can come. It doesn't mean that I have to like everything that you have done. But not to forgive means that there are things that I can't forgive myself for either. Everything is forgivable once one understands why people are the way they are."
Siegel then goes on to quote Jesus: "In the Bible we are told that Jesus said to a man who was paralyzed, 'Your sins are forgiven.' Jesus knew that the important point was to heal your life, because a life can be healed, even without a cured disease. Someone with cerebral palsy or paraplegia or cancer or AIDS can still exist in the context of a healed life."
In the movie, Good Will Hunting, Will Hunting is a young man who, although he's an uneducated mathematical savant whose genius exceeds that of the professors of MIT, he is anything but good. Instead, he is beset with personal problems, many of them caused by a childhood home environment of abuse and betrayal. Will goes through therapists like a hot knife through butter until he meets the psychologist played by Robin Williams. In the breakthrough scene, Will Hunting's therapist gets in his face and repeats like a mantra the words which for bad Will Hunting, provide healing from the wounds of betrayal and move him to a new identity: good Will Hunting. The words? "It's not your fault; it's not your fault."

Betrayal is not our fault. We will face betrayal and misunderstanding from all quarters, within and without the faith community. To be betrayed is by definition to be a victim.
But Jesus refuses to let us be victims for long: He advises us not to worry about how we are going to defend ourselves 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. (Luke 21:14). He then goes on to promise that not a hair of our heads will perish and that by our "endurance" we will gain our souls (21:18-19).

Our identities are transformed by the presence and power of Christ.

Once betrayed, now blessed.

Once a victim, now victorious.

Once conquered, now conquerors.

Once lost, now found.

Once lost, now found.

Once imprisoned, now set free.

Once imprisoned, now set free.

Once weak, now empowered.

With our new identities, we are now able to move beyond betrayal to be empowered agents of blessing to a world still reeling from blows of betrayal and the sting of sin. We can be hunters of good will.

AMEN