Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Psalm 94:8-15

March 2, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC

There’s something exciting about being in the month of March, and I’m not talking about the impending arrival of March Madness or celebrating St. Patrick’s Day or the Ides of March. No, I’m talking about the fact that spring is officially only 18 days away now. One of the things that comes with spring, in addition to warmer weather, is longer days. The sun stays out longer, we turn the lights on in our house later in the day, and the days get longer and longer until the longest day of the year arrives on June 20. For some people who are affected by what is called “Seasonal Affective Disorder,” the arrival of more sunlight drastically improves their mood and well-being. But there is something within all of us that craves the light and resists the darkness.

Sometimes that darkness in our life is not physical, though. Sometimes it is spiritual or psychological—or both. Anxiety has become one of the most common disorders in our country, affecting 19% of the population, and if you narrow that population down to just teenagers, the numbers go way up to 32%. That’s almost 1 in 3 teenagers who are dealing with some form of anxiety today. Hand in hand with that form of darkness is depression, various forms of which are reported in 29% of the population. Women and young adults seem to be at higher risk than others for the darkness of depression. So you have anxiety which can lead to depression, and coupled with those often is some form of substance abuse. Recent years have seen a 50% increase in drug overdose deaths in our country alone. It is a dark world, no matter how much physical light might be shining outside. We are surrounded by darkness. How are we to understand it? And, maybe more importantly, how are we to deal with it?

The last couple of weeks in this brief series on “Small Faith” we have remembered who is the object of our faith—the everlasting, strong, creator God—and we’ve faced those times when hypocrisy rears its ugly head in our lives or in others’. There are undoubtedly other questions you might have about exercising what Jesus called “mustard-seed faith,” but with the increasing prevalence of challenging times, dark times, coming into our lives and into our world, I want to ask whether or not small faith can help us get through such times. Can mustard-seed faith help us walk in the dark? Typically, we want everything solved easily, and we want the big, quick answers to prayers prayed in the dark (cf. Wright, Small Faith Great God, pgs. 141-142). But we don’t often get those because we walk by faith and not by sight (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:7). No one knew this better than the authors of the psalms, the hymnbook of ancient Israel, the place where real and difficult emotions are dealt with honestly.

This morning we read the middle portion of Psalm 94, a psalm that is anonymous; there is no indication as to who wrote it or when or what was happening when it was written. What is clear is that the psalmist is wanting and even expecting God to do something against those he considers to be wicked—specifically, to “avenge” whatever wrong has been done to the psalmist or to the people. That’s why the psalmist begins by calling out to the “God who avenges” and the “Judge of the earth” (94:1-2). The psalmist them proceeds to make a case against the wicked, telling God what they are doing, which is kind of funny to me because it’s like—God doesn’t know? Anyway. Then, in this middle section, the psalmist says the wicked people don’t seem to think God will do anything against them. They seem to even believe God doesn’t see what they are doing, which is why the psalmist calls them “senseless…fools” (94:8). He wants to ask them, “Do you really think the one who made our ears can’t hear you? Do you really believe that the one who made our eyes can’t see you? That’s ignorant thinking!” (cf. 94:9; cf. Williams, Communicator’s Commentary: Psalms 73-150, pg. 187; Goldingay, Psalms for Everyone Part 2, pg. 76). Of course God sees what the wicked are doing. Of course he knows what they are up to. But that leads us to the bigger problem. Why isn’t God doing something about it? And, worse yet, the psalmist wants an answer to that age-old question we have asked before: why are God’s people suffering when the wicked don’t seem to be?

We’ll come back to the first question in a few moments, but honestly the psalmist is more interested in the second question. At verse 12, the psalm makes a turn and begins to wonder if the trouble or the darkness God’s people are experiencing might be their own fault. The “key verse” in this psalm is verse 12: “Blessed is the one you discipline, Lord, the one you teach from your law” (cf. Wright 158). I don’t know about you, but “discipline” is not a word I equate with “blessing.” When I was a kid, I did not look forward to my mom and dad disciplining me, and when they had to (which was, of course, very rarely), I didn’t say, “Boy, I am blessed!” And on the other end, our kids might have at times thought I enjoyed being a disciplinarian, but that wasn’t true. I learned that the old adage “it hurts me more than it hurts you” is true. Discipline was not something I ever enjoyed. No matter where we stand, we tend to equate discipline with punishment, and then we take that idea and apply it to God. Something happens to correct our course and we say, “God must be punishing me.” But that’s not the way God works. God does, however, discipline you and me, and the author of Proverbs has told us that we should not “despise” those times (3:11). Why? Proverbs says: “Because the Lord disciplines those he loves” (3:12). Discipline is meant to help us live better, walk a straighter path, but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy or even gentle. The letter to the Hebrews quotes that verse from Proverbs and then reminds his readers to “endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children…If you are not disciplined…then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all” (Hebrews 12:7-8). Discipline is a good thing.

Now that’s something to think about. If I put all that together, here’s what the Biblical authors seem to be saying: times of darkness and hardship might be God disciplining me, and if it is I need to stop resisting it and let God do his work in me because discipline is proof that I am a child of God and I am loved. The psalmist says discipline from God is a sign that you have not been rejected (cf. 94:14), that you are still part of the family. Now, I am not saying that everything bad that happens is the work of God in our lives; sometimes, honestly, it’s our own stupidity and we end up suffering the consequences of our own poor choices. The psalmist says God’s discipline has one goal: to teach us from God’s law, to help us understand the way God intended life to be lived (94:12). When we put that idea through the lens of the New Testament, it means discipline is meant to make us more like Jesus, the one who is the very embodiment of God’s law. Years ago I was working in an inner-city ministry in Chicago, teaching a day camp for kids in the neighborhood and trying to show them the love of Jesus at the same time. One afternoon I went into my classroom to prepare for the next day and a bunch of my supplies had been taken. To say I was not happy was an understatement, and I was even less happy when I found out who had done it. I took off driving before I said something to the other person that I shouldn’t, and I was fuming. It’s fun to drive in Chicago traffic when you’re already upset. After a bit, after I calmed down some and began to listen, I began to sense God reminding me that I was supposed to be part of a team. It wasn’t all about me and what had been taken didn’t actually belong to me. The goal of the summer wasn’t the day camp; it was helping the kids see Jesus. And I was not doing a good job of that right then. I stopped at a convenience store, bought a Snickers (because, you know, Snickers satisfies) and drove back, disciplined, and hopefully a tiny bit more like Jesus. And there have been many other instances like that over the years which have helped me recognize that when discipline is from God it makes us more like Jesus. That is the path to blessing (cf. Goldingay 76).

God disciplines those he loves, so maybe when you go through a dark time, what’s happening to you is not a disaster but a good thing! Maybe you’re being made more like Jesus, and maybe it’s a sign you are loved, a reminder that you have not been rejected (cf. 94:14). That’s the hope the psalmist held onto even as the wicked seemed to get away with whatever they wanted. He is holding onto this truth: “The Lord knows all human plans; he knows that they are futile” (94:11). Eventually, in the end, the wicked will experience the consequences of their actions. Haven’t we seen that happen in our own time? Wicked people who thought they would never get caught doing evil things ending up receiving genuine consequences. The psalmist certainly believed that’s what would happen in his time (cf. VanGemeren, “Psalms,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 5, pg. 613). He says, “Judgment will again be founded on righteousness” (94:15). He believed and staked his life on the truth that righteousness will triumph. Ultimately, evil will not win and wicked people will not last. We may not see it happen, but it will.

Let’s come back to that question of why isn’t God doing something. Why doesn’t God get rid of the evil in the world? Well, as I shared a few weeks ago, some of it has to do with the gift of free will he has given us. But the psalmist reminds us God disciplines those he loves and eventually, when the time is right, he will give the wicked what they deserve. What if God is actually “using the evil in the world to purify his people, to teach them,” to make the difference between righteousness and evil very, very evident? This is what Joseph told his brothers in the book of Genesis: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good…” (Genesis 50:20). One of my seminary professors called that 50/20 Vision (because the verse is Genesis 50:20): being able to believe that God is bringing good even out of the evil in the world. God can use anything for good; that’s what Paul told the Romans (cf. Romans 8:28). I heard a preacher this week say God caused his dad to die from a terrible disease so that someone could come to know Christ. And my heart said, “I don’t think so.” But God did bring good out of it, as he always does. Let me say it again: God doesn’t cause the evil, God doesn’t cause the bad, but he pulls good out of it. Every single time. N. T. Wright paraphrases God’s response to his people in the psalm this way: “It is good for you, my child, that you learn to bear with all this; it will teach you patience, because it is loving discipline from me. And you needn’t worry about evil, personal or impersonal. The day is coming when it will be rooted out of my world altogether and punished as it deserves” (160).

Darkness comes. The question is not whether or not we will go through dark times. The question is how will we respond—with faith or with anger or something else. We never know what the next day will bring. It might bring joy or it might bring struggle. When it comes, will we allow it to shape us? Paul Simon, once half of the duo Simon & Garfunkel, wrote their first big hit, “The Sound of Silence,” in his bathroom. He liked the acoustics, he said, and he would turn off the lights so that he could concentrate. He allowed the darkness to shape him. That’s when these words came to him: “Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sound_of_Silence). And while Simon certainly didn’t intend any particular Christian meaning, that might be a good attitude for us when struggles come. Face them with small faith in a big God, because while we may not know why darkness has come, we do know the God who can use it to make us more like himself. The psalmist reminds us he is the just judge, the creator of the world, the ruler of the world. He is faithful, and he never forsakes his people. He gives strength, and he holds us up when we are weak and failing. He comforts, loves and consoles his people. “He is the safe stronghold, the sure rock and refuge, in whose care we are safe for all eternity. He is the victorious God, who will one day destroy all that has oppressed and terrorized his people” (Wright 164). All we ultimately have is a mustard-seed faith in this big God, and that is enough. When God is all we have, we will find that God is all we need.

Darkness was something well known to one of Jesus’ disciples. Centuries after this psalmist wrote about being shaped even by the evil in our world, a follower of Jesus named Judas struggled with the darkness that was rising all around him. If you’re caught up on The Chosen series, I think they’re doing a really good job of depicting the struggle Judas must have gone through. He was not an unfaithful disciple; neither was he a devil from the beginning. He would never have been entrusted with the money if everyone knew from the start who he would become. He believed in Jesus, and he did ministry alongside the rest of the disciples. But he expected something else out of Jesus even as the threats were rising against Jesus. Somewhere along the way, the darkness began to consume Judas, deep enough that he couldn’t hear what Jesus was teaching, couldn’t see what Jesus was doing, and certainly couldn’t understand what was happening in that Upper Room on the last night they were all together. Jesus knows he has to go to the cross; that is never in question. But there are plenty of forces lined up against him even without Judas turning him in. The cross was going to happen; the question in that room, I think, was what part Judas would play. I believe that’s why Jesus offers Judas the bread dipped in the sop from the Passover meal (cf. John 13:26). Jesus is offering Judas a choice at just that moment. Will Judas choose to embrace the darkness or will he move toward the light? In John’s Gospel, we’re told that, as Judas received the bread and sop from Jesus, that’s when Satan entered him (cf. John 13:27).

His choice was made. He gave in. The bread and the cup Jesus offered that night made no sense to him. What Jesus was going to do the next day was not what a savior was supposed to do. So he turned Jesus in; he betrayed him. And even when he finally realized what he had done, he went even further into the darkness and took his own life. What if Judas had waited just a couple of days, like the others did? What if he had seen the resurrection? What if he, like Peter, had the chance to hear Jesus offer him forgiveness, reconciliation and healing? What if he waited long enough to see God bring good out of the worst evil in human history (cf. Hamilton, Journey to the Cross, pgs. 71-73)? We will never know what might have been, but we do know what can be.

Today, we have a chance to gather at the table with Jesus, just like Judas and the rest of the disciples did in that Upper Room so long ago. And just like all of them, we have the same choice. Will we follow him to the cross, even through the darkness? Or will we turn away and go our own way? This Wednesday, we begin the season of Lent, which is an annual period of forty days meant for reflection and repentance. Forty days to prepare our hearts to face the darkness of the cross at Good Friday. I contend every year and I still believe it with all my heart that we can’t fully experience and appreciate and embrace the resurrection if we don’t go with Jesus all the way to the cross. We can only understand how Jesus is defeating the darkness if we walk with him and offer him our small faith. It’s all we have, and it’s all we need.

So as we come to the table this morning, I invite you to hear the Word of the Lord once more: “Blessed is the one you discipline, Lord, the one you teach from your law…for the Lord will not reject his people; he will never forsake his inheritance” (94:12, 14). He will not forsake us; let us not forsake him, even in the darkness.

With our mustard seed of faith, let’s prepare our hearts for holy communion.