Robert Frost wrote a wonderful poem entitled “Acquainted with the Night.”
And on it goes -- this dark and mournful poem about questions and cries and despair -- the night time of the soul.
We know about that, don’t we? About darkness and rain ... about outwalking any hint
of light in our lives. We, too, are people “Acquainted with the Night.”
Sickness
Grief
Depression
Guilt
Poverty
Stress
Loneliness
Divorce
Anger
Slander
Fear
Do you resonate with any of those words? If so, then you are -- or have been --
“Acquainted with the Night.”
Our scripture lesson is the story of the end of the Exodus journey. The children of Israel spent a long, long time crossing the wilderness to their new Promised Land. (The Bible says “forty years,” but that is merely a symbol for a long period of time.) When they closed in on it, this land toward which they had journeyed and of which they had dreamed, Moses and Aaron sent out spies to see what it was like. And when the spies returned, they reported that the land was occupied by giants - fierce and frightening people - before whom, said the spies, “we seemed ... like grasshoppers.” “Then all the congregation raised a loud cry; and the people wept that night.” And they said to Moses and Aaron,“We would have preferred to die in Egypt or out there in the wilderness. Why does the Lord bring us into this land to be murdered? Our
wives and our little children will become prey; would it not be better for us to return to Egypt?” All the children of Israel “wept that night.” They were, you see, “Acquainted with the Night” -- with hardship -- with fear -- with the threat of worse things yet to come. And sometimes, so are we.
I heard the comedian Mark Lowry say on TV not long ago, “I always sit at the rear of a plane because I’ve never seen an airplane back into a mountain!” Well, the truth is, when that plane hits the mountain, it doesn’t matter much where you’re sitting. And some folks feel as if their plane hits a mountain every single day.
A dear and successful friend talked to me this week about going to work - and he said, “You have no idea how much courage it requires of me to walk into that building each morning!” His work place is filled with stress -- and conflict -- and pressure. We spend more time at our jobs than we spend doing anything else at all ... and if our jobs are not fulfilling to us, then we are indeed “Acquainted with the Night.”
During a recent week I chatted with three families struggling with serious illness ... with an aging man living alone and suffering physically from years of alcohol addiction ... with a young single mother who is losing her condo ... with a mid-life man whose children have shut him out ... with a man about my age whose job has been down-sized, and he has two kids in college with no income ... and with a lovely, gentle woman who has been physically abused by her ex-spouse. It was not an unusual week. There are countless persons in our world, our communities, our offices, our buildings, our classrooms who are “Acquainted with the Night.” And maybe, if the truth were known, some of you would be on that list, too.
Shortly before moving to New York, a lovely young woman with a keen sense of humor made a funny statement about a situation that wasn’t funny at all. She had just gone through a divorce but, in a style true to her personality, she said, and I quote, “I always kissed with my eyes closed. Unfortunately, I married the same way!” 46% of first marriages don’t last, and 70% of second ones. At home with spouses, partners, parents, children, lots of people, good and decent people, are “Acquainted with the Night.”
In a thousand different ways, we can feel that our plane has hit the mountain - that, like the Israelites in exodus, things are hopeless and we are helpless. But do you remember what happened when the children of Israel wept all night? Moses and Aaron knelt down and prayed -- but Joshua, always straight-forward and never at a loss for words, stood before the people and said, Listen! “If the Lord delights in us, he will bring us into this land ... of milk and honey. Only, do not rebel against the Lord ... (for) the Lord is with us; do not be afraid.”
There are a couple of lessons there which are important to any folks who are
“Acquainted with the Night.”
(1) First of all, there is the good news that “the Lord delights in us ....”
God is in love with you. Now, I know sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. It’s a very real temptation, during times of stress and sorrow, to think that we must have fallen out of God’s favor ... that we did something wrong ... that we’re being punished ... or
abandoned. Even Jesus felt it for a moment: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” But it may be - it just may be that God is more involved with us when we hurt than at any other time at all.
Jesus described God as a loving Parent. “If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good things to your children, how much more shall God ....?” Well, think like a parent. If you have two, three, ten children at home, you no doubt love them all equally. But if one of them is sick in the night - feverish and frightened -- which one of your children gets the most attention? It’s the one who needs it most, isn’t it? You don’t love that child more than the others, but you do sit at his bed -- you do keep cold cloths on her head -- you do take them medicine and ginger ale. “If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good things to your children, how much more shall God ....?” What if, far from abandoning us, God is literally immersed in our lives when we hurt -- perhaps more so than at any other time at all -- because that’s what parents do for their kids? “The Lord delights in us,” said Joshua, and the more desperately we need His love, the more passionately that love is extended.
(2) Which brings us to the second thing he said: “Do not be afraid ... (for) the Lord is with us!”
Several years ago I heard George Bashore, that dear and wonderful preacher, make the statement in a sermon: “In the midst of a personal abyss of loneliness, even there God is present.” The Israelites had been thrown into an abyss of their own as they approached the Promised Land ... but Joshua said pretty much what George Bashore said: “Do not be afraid ... (for) the Lord is with us!” Even here. Even now. Even in the face of your dilemma. You are not alone -- ever -- even for a moment. Do you remember the words Jesus spoke immediately before Ascending to God? “Lo, I will be with you always.” We are not alone -- ever -- even for a moment. And that, more than anything else at all, is the source of our strength for living.
Are you familiar with the name Cindy Holms? Ms. Holms is a pediatric nurse in Houston, Texas, and also a very fine writer. She wrote some time ago about a mother and child she got to know in the hospital, both of whom were suffering from AIDS in a day before they had the cocktail of medications that keep people alive and active. In those years, a diagnosis of AIDS was a death sentence. The mother and son were infected. The child’s name was Tyler. He was six.
Tyler had been born with AIDS. So from the outset his life he was dependent on a host of medications. Sometimes he also needed supplemental oxygen. But he was a little dynamo -- never slowing down, never giving up, often seen racing through his
Houston neighborhood, wearing his medicine-laden backpack and carrying his oxygen tank in a red Radio Flier wagon.
Cindy knew both mother and son throughout their treatments and was there in the final stages when both were confined to the hospital. When it became evident that both were going to die soon, Tyler’s mom told her son that she had made a decision - that if he went to heaven, she would just come, too, because wherever he was, she wanted to be.
Shortly thereafter, when Cindy Holms was in Tyler’s room, the child said to her, “Ms. Holms, will you do me a favor?” She answered that she would if she could. He continued, “When I die, will you put a red shirt on me?” She asked why, and he answered, “I’m going to heaven. And Mommy is going to follow me there. I want to be sure she can find me, so I need something bright to wear. Heaven wouldn’t be heaven without Mommy.” Cindy Holms said she observed almost inexpressible peace in that child -- even in the face of an almost inexpressible crisis. And the peace, she said, came from the presence of a loving parent with him and her promise that no matter where he went, in this world or the next, she would always be with him.
“Do not be afraid,” said Joshua, (for) “the Lord is with us!”
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
And so have we. But you and I are not captives of that night. For we know, as little Tyler did, that wherever we are -- and whatever we face -- and however dark the night may become -- we are never alone, ever, even for a moment. A Parent who loves us is with us and will be with us always.
Do you remember the litany of words mentioned earlier? Sickness ... Grief ... Depression ... Guilt ... Poverty ... Stress ... Loneliness ... Divorce ... Anger ... Slander ... Fear? If any of those are your words, then you have been “Acquainted with the Night.” But for you, as people of Faith, there is a greater Word, a statement that shatters the night and brings the daylight of hope and peace:
“The Lord delights in us ... The Lord is with us; (so) do not be afraid.”
O God, when we journey through the wilderness of life, remind us of your unfailing love for and presence with us. Remind us that wherever we go, we do not travel alone. In that knowledge we find the courage to keep traveling. In Christ’s name. Amen.