July 31, 2005 - Sermon Manuscript

I went to hell last week. Or, at least I went to the doorstep of hell. And no, I don’t mean that it was really hot in Ecuador. In fact, the temperatures were fairly mild due to the fact that we were 9,200 feet above sea level. In addition to that, since I was very close to the Equator, the sun was visible for a much shorter portion of the day--they have 12 hour days, 365 days of the year, unlike our days which range from 8 hours to 16 hours long. While it did get hot for a couple of hours around noon each day, by 3 o'clock in the afternoon most of us were reaching for our sweatshirts to keep out the chilly afternoon breeze.

So, when I say that I went to hell last week, I'm not talking about the climate of Ecuador. No, I'm talking about my visit to the city dump. In order to understand what I mean by this, I need to explain that the primary scriptural image (in both Old and New Testaments) to describe hell has little to do with a lake of fire, and much more to do with the dump outside the wall of Jerusalem. If you visit Jerusalem today, you would find the "Dung Gate," leading out of the south side of the city to an attractive garden in the valley of Hinnom.

While it was always called the "Dung Gate," the valley of Hinnom, or Gehenna, was not always a garden. It used to be the city dump, and is often referred to as the image for hell, both in Old Testament prophecy and in Jesus' teachings. Not only was it the city dump, but the place where the sewers drained, where animal carcasses were disposed, and where those unfit for burial (executed criminals, lepers, and the unclean) were left to decompose. The leper colony was probably not far from Gehenna, as both areas would have been considered unclean. It is said that in Gehenna, the worm never dies and the fire never goes out (Mark 9:48).

While the city dump that I visited last week was not quite as bad as the picture I just painted, there are disturbing similarities...not the least of which is the colony of people which lived in and around the dump. As I stood there last week, with the sun beating down upon me and the blowing dirt stinging my face, it was impressed upon my mind that this was an evil place.

In reality, I really only went to the parking lot of hell. We didn’t get into the trash piles, I didn’t take a tour of a shack, it was a pretty sanitized experience. And yet, there in the parking lot of hell I was acutely aware of the evil of that place. As we attempted to take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the dump, it was impossible for us to imagine living there. And yet, that is exactly where 300 or more people live. I saw one shack from a distance, it was simply 6 forklift palettes tied together with a tarp stretched across the top. Residents of the dump scrounge for food to fill their stomachs. They gather clothing to wear upon their backs. They look for items to recycle or resell for money.

These are the throw-aways of Quito, Ecuador. These are the children of no hope. They were born here. They will die here. They will probably have children before they're fifteen. Their children will be born here. Their children will die here. Generations of children, teenagers, and a handful of adults were born, will live in, and die in the dump of Quito, Ecuador. Unnoticed, ignored, and unmourned. Nobody will read an obituary of their death, and nobody will attend their funeral. You can't say that they are forgotten, for they were never known to begin with.

While in the dump, we performed a Gospel drama, explained the Gospel message, and provided an opportunity for people to accept the gift of salvation or recommit themselves to Christ. We handed out $780 worth of food, and a couple of suitcases full of clothes. We washed their hair and gave a few haircuts. We played games with them and offered them love. And then we had to leave.

I've been thinking quite a bit about these people. I'm grateful that there is a man they call the "Dump Pastor" who provides longterm physical and spiritual care for these people. Our visit certainly does not solve all of the problems, nor does it really help them to break the cycle of poverty. A long term solution is required. And yet, as poor as much of Quito is, the dump people are considered outcasts. They are literally considered throw-away people, with no hope and no future. The government has abandoned them, the society has abandoned them, and the church teeters on the edge of abandoning them.

Let's be honest...we'd rather this problem doesn't exist. We'd rather that Pastor Jon never went to the dump...for now we know. Now we are aware of our lives of luxury. When we look around our houses, we know that 90% (or more) of our belongings are not necessary for survival, but merely for comfort. The dump people make us uncomfortable, and we'd rather they just went away. It would be much easier to ignore them, in hopes that they would be out-of-sight and out-of-mind.

And yet, this is about more than poverty. The message that we learn from the dump is that there are no throw-away people. We don't get to decide who is worthy of life and who is not. It's not our place to determine who should hear the gospel and who shouldn't. Oh...I hear you. None of us would suggest that the children of the dump don't deserve a better life. None of us would make the sort of judgment that they are worth less than other people. You're right. We wouldn't do any such thing.

And yet, don't we make judgments all the time? Oh, not about the lives of dump children for sure. Our judgments are more subtle than that. We make judgments about the levels of sin in somebody's life. We look at people and are grateful that they're not part of our church. We see sin in someone's life and are quick to cut ties with them, lest we be contaminated. We make decisions every day to not bother share the Gospel with someone because we think that they are beyond hope.

Beyond hope. That's how Ecuadorians view the children of the dump. It's the same way we view some of our neighbors, coworker, and even family members. We're all too willing to sit in the seat of the judge and decide who is worthy of our efforts and who isn't. And when we pass someone by, we have decided that they are a throw-away, not worthy of God's redemptive love.

In the story "The Fellowship of the Rings," the main character, Frodo, has a particular quest to fulfill which will determine the future of the entire world. Throughout his quest, he has been tormented and waylaid by a hideous frog-like creature by the name of Gollum. At one point, entirely frustrated by Gollum's presence, Frodo turns to his guide, Gandalf, and says: "It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance."

Gandalf chastises Frodo with these words: "Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."

It is that sort of eagerness to judge which Jesus condemns in the parable of the "Wheat and the Weeds" found in Matthew 13. Hear these words of Jesus, recorded in verses 24-30, and 36-43:

²⁴Jesus told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. ²⁵But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. ²⁶When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.
²⁷"The owner's servants came to him and said, 'Sir, didn't you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?'

²⁸" 'An enemy did this,' he replied.
"The servants asked him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?'

²⁹" 'No,' he answered, 'because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. ³⁰Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.' "

³⁶Then he left the crowd and went into the house. His disciples came to him and said, "Explain to us the parable of the weeds in the field."
³⁷He answered, "The one who sowed the good seed is the Son of Man. ³⁸The field is the world, and the good seed stands for the sons of the kingdom. The weeds are the sons of the evil one, ³⁹and the enemy who sows them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the age, and the harvesters are angels.

⁴⁰"As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age. ⁴¹The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. ⁴²They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. ⁴³Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. He who has ears, let him hear.

The Gospel of our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.

If there is one message from this parable that jumps out at me, it's this: "We don't get to decide who is wheat and who is a weed." It's not up to us to judge. It's not our job to make those decisions. The primary reason for this is simply that we aren't capable of those sorts of decisions. We can't tell the good from the bad. We can't tell the Christian from the non-Christian. We can't separate the wheat from the weeds.

You see, the Greek word that Jesus uses for weed is zizania. This is a very specific type of weed which looks just like wheat. Today it's called darnel wheat. It appears just like wheat, but it is not wheat. It fools you. Now, let's notice what the owner says to the workers. He does not say, "Don't throw out the weeds because you might make a mistake and accidentally leave some weeds among the wheat." Instead, he says, "Don't throw out the weeds, because you may make a mistake and accidentally throw out some wheat."

In other words, Jesus is not concerned that we might accidentally mistake a non-Christian and take them for a Christian. Rather, He is concerned that we might, in our zeal to purify the field of all that is impure, throw out some pure wheat as well. Jesus is rarely concerned about us opening the doors too wide, but is more often concerned about us closing them too tightly. Jesus knows our tendency to find people who are "just like us" and decide that they are the only ones we should spend time with. He knows that we are far more likely to cast people out than to welcome them in.

Surely, life would be easier if we were just surrounded by like-minded people: on-fire Christians who produce good fruit. Wouldn't it be better if there was no evil, and there were no people who would seek to destroy the message of Christianity? Wouldn't the world be a better place if there were no weeds?

Let's put it in concrete terms, shall we? Wouldn't life be easier if the murderers and pedophiles were destroyed? In fact, it would be even better if we could scientifically determine who would commit those crimes, and lock them up or destroy them before they had a chance to unleash more evil upon the world?

But that's far too drastic. We're much more subtle than that. We see the immediate fallacy in destroying sinners before their time, we know that they'll "get theirs" at the judgment.

No, our form of judgment is much less direct than that. We're more like this: "That person will never respond to the Gospel. They've already decided they want nothing to do with Jesus. They've already done too much sin, gone too far...they'd never be open to hearing about Jesus. It's not worth my time to try to convince them otherwise."

When we do this, we are doing just like what the workers in the field suggested. We have labeled someone a weed...unworthy of our time or consideration. We have made judgments that nobody but God should make. For when we make a judgment like that, we are far more likely to take a piece of wheat and label it as a weed than we are to take a weed and label it as a piece of wheat.

When we fail to present the Gospel to someone, we are just like the workers in the field, deciding that they are best suited for the fires of hell. Or, perhaps this image makes more sense...we are like a society that determines that some people are not worth more than the dump. We are like those who allow infants, children, and teenagers to grow up in the City Dump--the Gehenna of Ecuador.

You may think that this is far too extreme a parallel. I disagree. When we fail to share the Gospel, we have short-circuited that person's chance to break the cycle of sin and enter the Kingdom of God. We would never dream of going to the dump in Ecuador and keep the food we brought in the car to eat later. Why is it that we come into contact with people every day, and keep the Gospel message inside us, so we might consume it later?

You may say, "But Pastor, I'm not called."

William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, would reply to you with these words:

‘Not called!’ did you say? ‘Not heard the call,’ I think you should say. Put your ear down to the Bible, and hear Him bid you go and pull sinners out of the fire of sin. Put your ear down to the burdened, agonized heart of humanity, and listen to its pitiful wail for help. Go stand by the gates of hell, and hear the damned entreat you to go to their father’s house and bid their brothers and sisters, and servants and masters not to come there. And then look Christ in the face, whose mercy you have professed to obey, and tell Him whether you will join heart and soul and body and circumstances in the march to publish his mercy to the world.

The fact is, that we are all called to share the Good News. When we disobey that call, we are demonstrating our own indifference to those who are standing on the doorsteps of hell. Just as we would never dream of ignoring the tears of a child destined to live in the cycle of poverty in the Gehenna of Ecuador, we should not allow ourselves to be so callous to those who need to be set free from their own cycle of sin and destruction.

Here is the reality, there is Good News. There is Hope. The prisoners are released. The blind see, the lame walk. The oppressed are set free, and Good News is being preached to the poor. The cycle of sin has been broken, for those who know and understand the Good News of Jesus. Have you done all you can to tell them?

I fear that we probably have not. I fear that I have not. Honesty dictates that we confess our sins, for we have categorically dismissed people, believing them to be no better than weeds. We have failed to share the Gospel. I have failed to share the Gospel. In general, the North American Church has failed at evangelism on the home front, finding it easier to send money and people to other lands. Our failure to share the Gospel message with those around us is nothing less than sin, for which we must seek forgiveness.

As we sing our closing chorus today, I invite you to contemplate this message. You may need to confess to the Lord a failure to share His message with others. You may need to confess the sins of judging others, predetermining that they are a weed. You may simply need to ask the Lord to renew your passion for going to the gates of hell and bringing back those who are wandering far from home. As we sing, you're invited to sing this prayer, or spend time in personal reflection and prayer, either in your seat or at these altars. Let us be obedient to His call on our lives.

‘Not called!’ did you say? ‘Not heard the call,’ I think you should say. Put your ear down to the Bible, and hear Him bid you go and pull sinners out of the fire of sin. Put your ear down to the burdened, agonized heart of humanity, and listen to its pitiful wail for help. Go stand by the gates of hell, and hear the damned entreat you to go to their father’s house and bid their brothers and sisters, and servants and masters not to come there. And then look Christ in the face, whose mercy you have professed to obey, and tell Him whether you will join heart and soul and body and circumstances in the march to publish his mercy to the world.

Grace and Peace,

PastorJon