I want you all this morning to take an imaginary trip with me.  I want you to imagine you are in Saudia Arabia, a Moslem nation whose oil we need, and yet the nation that gave birth to Al Qaeda.  Your friends had convinced you it was time for that once-in-a-lifetime trip and here you are.  You paid the fare, you crossed the ocean, and joined a group with a hired guide and loaded your camera with film.  You have seen Medina and its amazing sights, and have ventured into neighborhoods you would never dream of being alone.

          You are now walking the streets of the densely populated, strange world of Mecca, the center of Islam.  Can you smell the strange smells, see this contrasting land of wealth and poverty, of palaces and mud brick homes?  Do you hear the minarets calling Moslems to prayer, or the group of women quietly talking as they shop the market places, mysterious in their full body length black burkas? Can you feel the midday heat and taste dust in the air?

          Let's go a step further.  Imagine you are there, but now you're all alone.  You stopped to re-lace your boots, became interested in a vendor selling rugs, and when you looked up, your group is gone!  No one is around.  You've been alone a full half hour and so you yell for the guide, but you only get strange looks from people who can't understand English.  And you're also a woman and not properly dressed!  You ask a man for help, but he turns his back on you.  You plead with a woman to help you, but she hurries away.  Your day pack is on the shoulder of the nice guy who volunteered to hold it while you tied your boots, and he's walked off with it.  You have no passport, no money, no compass, and no map.  And now you're losing your cool, but not because it's 110 degrees.

          You have a problem.  First, you're from Iowa - you were not made for this place!  If you were dropped alone in the middle of Los Angeles or Manhattan, you'd somehow find a way home.  The second part of your problem is that you're not equipped.  You have no water, no food, no extra clothes, and no way to communicate.  To make matters worse, now people are getting angry at you.  They're shouting things, taunting you because of your improper dress.  Little boys throw rocks at you and chase you.  You're from Iowa and aren't made for this place.  You're not equipped and you haven't got a clue how to find your way back to the safety of the group.

          This sound like fun?  I didn't think so.  Before moving ahead, let's pause and do an emotions check.  Given that you're alone among hostile people, what are you feeling?  Fear?  Of course!  Anxiety?  To say the least.  Panic?  You may be past that!  Anger?  I'd be angry, especially at that guy who convinced me to take this trip or that guide who walked off and left you.  But what about the feeling of hopelessness?  Are you there yet?

          You somehow get to the American Embassy, but they're closed.  The police arrest you because you have no passport, and they put you in a stinking jail with no phone call - but who would you call anyway?  The tour company numbers are in your day pack.  Who could blame you for sitting down on a filthy bench, burying your face in your hands and weeping?  Who could blame you for thinking, "What am I going to do?"  No one knows you're there.  You have no money, no direction, no equipment, no idea how to contact your group, and you're beginning to lose hope.

          If you can freeze frame your feelings for a moment, perhaps you can imagine, just for a moment, what it feels like to be one of so many people in our world, people without hope.  They're not only prisoners of an oppressive religion, they're hated, unable to attend schools.  You might even be one of the 300 million "Untouchables" of India, lowest of the low in Hindu society.

          No one wants to be around you, and if you go into the wrong building, they have to fumigate it or even tear it down.  The only people who talk to you are other Untouchables.  You receive no education except what you learn from others and it's all about survival.  They can kill you if they feel like it, but they won't because you are their garbage workers, grave diggers, toilet cleaners, and sweat shop slaves.  You are untouchable, but indispensable.  They hate you, but need you, because without you they'd have to get their hands dirty.

          Then one day, along comes a Christian who talks to you!  He introduces himself and touches you, shaking your hand!  You're sick, so he takes you to a nurse who smiles and gives you medicine and wipes the sweat from your brow.  She tells you of Jesus who loves you no matter what.  She gives you medicine and says Jesus heals you.  She gives you food and says Jesus will take away your hunger.  She says He was also an outcast, a man who died for your sins and promises you heaven when you die.  Suddenly there's a tiny glimmer of hope!  You've been touched, and have felt the smile of someone who cares.  They tell you that you won't have to be re-born a thousand times to escape your miserable life.  Because Jesus loves you, you can be re-born just once and that's enough.  Hope is beginning to grow because someone cares.

          I'm describing the tens of thousands of men, women and children turning to Jesus in Bombay, Bopal and Calcutta.  There are so many Untouchables turning to Jesus that the new churches being formed could use 5,000 pastors this year and 5,000 the next, just to teach thousands who hunger for hope and thirst for freedom in Christ.  They are being touched by the Master's hand, a hand scarred by nails of a cross, the hand who holds them up and welcomes them, the hand of Jesus of Nazareth, the very Son of God.  God's hands touch the Untouchables with love and mercy.  God loves them all, no matter who or what they are.

          They can't see the end of their enslavement, but they now have hope, a hope that is unseen, "For hope that is seen is no hope at all."  And their hope from Jesus is hope for the whole world, "For in this hope we are saved." (Romans 8:24)   And those people are like us, and we are them.

          You and I don't have to be lost in Medina or Calcutta to feel hopeless.  We can be lost right in the streets of Castle Rock.  You can feel alone in the aisles of Wal-Mart or isolated in a packed Coors Field.  You and I can look up one day and discover we've been left alone by a bad medical report, a financial reversal or a wayward spouse.  We can even feel hopeless when we look at the church and see its dirty laundry hanging out its windows, drawing puzzled looks from the public and leaving you embarrassed to be Lutheran.

          You can be hopeless because you hoped in the wrong things or made bad decisions.  You can feel hopeless because you haven't found Mr. Right or wish you'd have kept your eyes open while kissing Mr. Wrong.  If you've been abandoned, it hurts.  And if you've been really selfish or really bad or really stupid, you can wish you were dead!  That's really losing hope.

          The story is told of a man on an African safari deep in the jungle.  The guide before him was whacking at vines and branches with a machete to make a path.  The traveler, hot and frustrated, said, "Where are we?  Do you know where you're taking me?  Where is this path we're supposed to be on?"  The guide kept chopping and said, "It's not important for you to know the exact point on a map, but it's important for you to do your part.  Keep chopping with your machete."  The traveler was now worried and a bit angry.  "But I want to know!  Where is this path taking us?"  The guide raised up and said, "Mister, I am the path.  Now stick with me and keep chopping."

          We ask the same questions, don't we?  We ask God, "Where at You taking me?  Why am I here?  Where is the path?"  And He, like the jungle guide, doesn't tell us the exact answer we want to hear.  We want to know location, and God tells us, "It's enough for you to know I am the path.  Follow Me and I'll show you the way."

          Does God remove the jungle?  No, the vegetation is just as thick.  Does He kill the wild animals?  No, danger still lurks.  Does He answer all your questions?  No, He says it's enough now that He knows the answers.  Jesus once told His followers, "I am with you always, to the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20)   We all need that reminder, we all need that hope.  Some of you may not need it right now.  Your jungle is a gentle meadow and your journey a delight.  Others of us don't know what tomorrow will bring, or where the road will lead.  We may be just one turn away from a hospital, a cemetery or an empty house.  We may be one bend away from the thickest jungle we can imagine.  If so, just remember Jesus walks the road with you.  He is the Way.  He knows the way out and He knows the way home.  He is our only true Hope.

          You and I don't have all the answers, but God does.  We're not equipped for this journey alone, but He's there.  We can be alone in a crowd and can get lost with a map in hand.  We need someone to be the Way, and that's Jesus Christ.  We need someone who will lead us, and that's the Good Shepherd.  Call out to Him.  He knows your voice.  He's waiting with hope to lead you home.  Amen

Copyright © 2002 by Pastor Bob Tasler.  All rights reserved.