Job 19:23-27 Pastor Nathan P. Kassulke
Easter Festival Service Sunday, March 31, 2024 “I Know that My Redeemer Lives”
Have you ever found yourself in a conversation like this? (Person one:) “What’s wrong? You seem really down today?” (Person two:) “Nothing’s wrong.” “Are you sure you are OK? It really seems like something is bothering you. I’m worried.” “I told you. I am fine. Nothing is wrong.” “Hey, you’re still acting strange. What can I do to help? What’s wrong?” “How many times do I have to tell you? NOTHING IS WRONG!!” If you’ve been in a conversation like that, as I have, you probably would come to the same conclusion as I do. It doesn’t matter which side of the conversation you relate to more strongly. We know this: something is wrong. Here’s a different conversation: “What’s wrong?” “Everything.” Have you ever had that conversation? Sometimes people truly feel as though nothing good is happening. Everything is wrong, and there’s really no reason to have hope. And while it is almost certainly technically not true that everything is wrong, it doesn’t help to point that out. It doesn’t help to say, “Hey, the sun is still shining. Don’t worry, things are bound to get better. At least you have your health. Your family and friends are looking out for you.” If there was ever a person who had a right to say that everything was wrong, it was Job. He lost nearly everything that he owned. He had been extremely wealthy. He owned animals numbering in the thousands, and one day he got word that most had died and the rest had been stolen away. Nearly all of his many servants had likewise been put to death. Job’s three daughters and seven sons had died. For a brief time, one could have argued that at least Job had his health, but shortly after, that was taken away from him, too. Job got painful boils, sores all over his body. His life was in such ruins that even his own wife said he should leave behind his integrity, curse God, and die. No one needed to ask Job what was wrong. When friends came to see him, they were so overwhelmed by the sight of him that they covered themselves in dust and sat near him for a full week without saying a word. There was nothing to say. What’s wrong? The answer was clear: everything. So, have you ever felt that way? I don’t mean have you ever had it as bad as Job. It is the very rare person who would put himself or herself in that same category. We may have experienced the loss of a loved one, but not all of our children. We may have faced a serious and painful illness. We may have lost wealth. But rarely have we seen so many tragedies stack up, one on another, in our own lives. And still, at times, when something is wrong in our lives, it affects us deeply enough that it really does feel as though everything is wrong. That had to have been the way that many close friends and followers of Jesus were feeling very early on a Sunday morning nearly two thousand years ago. It was true that not everything was wrong. The sun rose that day. The women had a supply of spices with which they could honor their loved one. Only one among the entire group had lost his life. He was the one who had been nailed to the cross. No, not everything was wrong, but it sure felt that way. Peter and the other disciples, Mary and Mary and Salome—they had all been following Jesus for years. They all had become convinced that he was someone very special. He talked to them about God and heaven. He did miracles. He fed the hungry. He healed the sick and drove out demons. And the last time anyone had seen him was when they laid his lifeless body in a tomb and rolled a heavy stone across the entrance, just before the sun went down on Friday. These aren’t the kind of problems you can ignore. If you say, “Nothing is wrong,” no one is going to believe you. And while it is not technically true that everything is wrong in a moment like that, a moment like that sure has a way of making you look at your life very seriously. You pretty quickly start to wonder whether you’ve done something especially wrong to deserve this sort of suffering. You start to ask whether your focus has been the right focus. Was Jesus a fraud after all? Others had said so. The Pharisees hated him. The Romans ridiculed him. Maybe they were right. The women had to have been wondering. They had given up so much of their time and money to follow and support Jesus. Had it all been a waste? Or maybe, just maybe, all these friends and followers wondered whether Jesus had figured out what they knew all along: that they didn’t deserve him.