Getting out from under that pile of Christian garbage

                                                            
Lately I feel like my view of my relationship with God just feels weighed down by a pile of Christian Garbage.
Before I go on, I'd like to do what I thoroughly enjoy and that is, define my terms. By "Christian Garbage" I mean most anything affiliated with the Christian faith with the exception of the bible, probably most hymns, and some classical theological works. The term "Christian Garbage" includes most sermons that include suggestions on how to live your life or what to do in your Christian walk, Christian radio, "Christian" music, most modern "Christian" books, and most evangelical philosophy as it's spoken and the way it is spoken by most evangelical Christians. It, of course, includes all the things Christians spout on Facebook and the media that aren't really in line with Christianity or Jesus' teaching. Basically, it's most things. And I'm sick of the majority of it.

I use the term "garbage" not because any of these things (except the "christian" things said in the media that aren't really in line with Christianity- those are actually garbage)  are bad or even not good or should be thrown away. In fact, most of these things are very good and I'm sure are in line with the Spirit of Jesus and how He has led the people who have created, performed, written, or preached the given material. I use the strong word, "garbage" because A)It feels like a pile of junk I can't get out from under that's hindering me and B) I think some people out there, including people who wouldn't call themselves Christians, might identify with feeling like there's piles of "Christian Garbage" lying around that might get in the way of them and God.
Basically, I'm admitting that my use of the phrase "Christian Garbage"is incorrect and that it's also not rational to arbitrarily categorize a large variety of things simply on the basis that they all annoy me.

Nonetheless, the other day I was driving, thinking about all the Christian garbage that's been annoying me and (it feels like) inundating me for a year, feeling like I should acknowledge it as being ok and feel good about it but not being able to wade through it to find God.
And then there He was- Familiar as ever. In the secular music playing on my stereo, in the trees branching over the road. In my heart. Just like he was outside the window of the nursery at church (and then inside the nursery, and then beside me) when I was teenager who was never in actual church service and never really hearing anything about God or any solid theology to understand who He was. Just like he would stream in through the open chapel doors of my college, blowing in off the Lake as I sat there with my head raised to the ceiling  during prayer time at a time when I wasn't sure what I believed and I wasn't going to bow my head. The closeness I felt of God regardless of the Christian messages I had access to. And here it was again, here and present within me. And that was a great comfort.

I guess what I'm saying is that, despite all the "Christian Garbage" you may see or feel around you, even if you're not attending church, there is a God that is real and present with you and that is more than any "religious activity." Of course, if you ask Him to come to dwell in your heart you will likely feel yourself called to express your love and seek closeness through involvement in His Body, the Church (and this is good and right as the Church is an essential part of God's will). But what I'm taking from this is no matter how you may feel about the Church at any given time, God is still with you, still loves you, and is still King of all things. And He will lead your heart in the direction it should go in regards to how to respond to the church. In my case, I'm assuming He'll lead my heart in how to respond to all the Christian things that are not actually garbage but that feel like garbage. However, before I could do that, I had to realize that He was still Him, that He was still in control of and over all things, even when all of the other stuff affiliated with him seemed to be in the way of me reaching Him. When I realize that He is present with me, I can trust and believe that He will guide me through whatever. 

Confession of a Christian- a summary of 5 minutes of my stream of conscientiousness

Disclaimer: if you read this and feel the need to provide some uplifting words of encouragement or become worried about me- please do not feel that way as, if you do, you are likely not the intended audience for this post- this is simply meant to be an honest portrayal of a brief series of thoughts of mine and what I think a lot of us can find ourselves thinking from time to time, but don't say aloud


There are a lot of posts today about Jesus dying for our sins and that people feel grateful for it. I know these are sincere and I'm so glad that people feel this way but I have a confession to make: they do nothing for me. I look at them and read the words that I've heard over and over and it's like a spiritual platitude. Just a bunch of words that don't mean anything that have been overused. Ok, Jesus died today. Maybe I should feel something. But I don't. I should feel grateful that Jesus took away my sins so that now I can be free. But free from what and what did I do? I just don't feel it. Maybe there's something wrong with me. So I feel guilty or wrong in doubtful instead. I ponder that while I make my coffee, spill it all over the place, make a giant mess of my kitchen, get pissed, swear a lot, make my fiance uncomfortable, think about how this must mean that I'm an angry person. Then I think, "maybe I'm too angry to get married. Maybe I'll make my fiance's life hell." Then I remember the paper that I needed to start earlier that I didn't start and now I'm going to inconvenience people because I was irresponsible which gets me more upset so I swear some more and storm into the other room, making said fiance feel crappier about something that isn't his fault. Then I feel hopeless and feel like I ruin everything I touch and that I can't stop ruining things because I'm too insecure and mad now and so everything is doomed to fall into a cycle of destruction that I can't fix. I think about how I'm too overwhelmed by the mistakes I keep making continually in life and all the ones I will make in the future, my sins, and insecurities and try to find solutions. There aren't any. The best one is just for everything to stop- if I stop doing anything that would cause any problem, just stop interacting with people or doing any activity whatsoever then I'd be doing less damage. But then I'd be miserable and alone. So the only way to proceed is to stop life all together. But I'm not in a space to commit suicide, besides, then I'd just make people close to me feel like crap again, I don't want them to have to deal with that and I'd be back to the issue that I started with, that "no matter what I do, I mess things up," even in my attempts to stop doing things- there must be some solution- something better than this. But it seems like there is nothing in my power that I can do to remedy or prevent my mistakes or feel free from them. And so we find ourselves at the beginning, and simultaneously the exit, of this vicious cirlce. Jesus died to forgive and free me from the things I can't- in some great and mysterious way that I can't always fully comprehend and connect but that I feel and can undoubtedly know in the depths of my hopelessness and then, in the release of the broken hopelessness that threatens to flood my being.

Jesus had a Mommy

Did  you know Jesus had a mommy? Because I didn’t. I mean, I knew his mother’s name was Mary and that he was conceived in her through the holy spirit and was born in a manger because there was no room in the inn, yadda yadda yadda, but I didn’t know He had a mommy.

I have trouble understanding a lot of His humanity, although it’s something I really crave. For example, I have trouble believing the author of Hebrews when he says, “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (4:15). I have trouble with this for a lot of reasons that I won’t fully flush out right now but mostly I’m like “listen person who wrote this book who we argue about identifying, that’s bogus.” Ok, Jesus is in my heart now and is all knowing, all seeing so He knows and sees all pain in the world and understands it better than I do. Ok. But this passage is focusing on Jesus’s life. And I’m like, “Jesus didn’t have my life. He never sinned, He was part God. I’m not God, and I have sinned, that changes the entire nature of my struggles. Plus I’m a chick, plus I’ve had different struggles. Jesus hasn’t lived through the same things I’ve lived through.” Now, He’s probably lived through lots of other worse things and also, just because He didn’t sin in life didn’t mean His was easier than mine. Then there’s that whole crucifixion thing I haven’t had to deal with…
So I guess I can’t complain. But still, I can’t help but respond to that verse in Hebrews with “Psh. Jesus don’t know me!”  Even though it’s not true.

One of the things that I think I struggle a lot with in my life are all the spiritual, relational and life implications of being the only daughter of a single mother. Mother-daughter relationships are complicated (as John Mayer testified).  And having a Gilmore girls-esque relationship with a complex independent woman who came of age in the 60’s and who has stage four cancer makes it more complicated than others sometimes.

I think I speak for a lot of daughters (and I’m sure sons, although dynamics can be different) when I say that, when you are a daughter who has/has had a mommy, there is just a weight your carry with you, a weight you will always carry with you. There is baggage you carry while she’s alive- maybe expectations you’re trying to meet, ways you’re trying to care for her,  wounds you’re always trying to heal. Then there’s all the stuff/obligations/complications you carry when your mommy gets sick- logistics, possessions, bills, insurance, responsibility, fear. And then there’s this big weight of memory and loss when she’s dead and wishing you could just do all above mentioned difficulties with her all over again because it would be so much better than her not being there.  Plus, no matter how old you get or even how much your mother thinks you don’t listen to her, I’m pretty sure we all hear our mother’s voices in our heads sometimes (mine is most active when I’m driving in bad weather…) no matter how much we may try to shake it.

Having a mommy is hard. Having children is harder, I’m sure (which is partially what makes having a mommy hard because you realize she’s had it even harder). Point is, playing any role in a parent-child relationship is trying, difficult (albeit fulfilling), and a key part of the human experience.

So, after a hard year of  mommy-having, when I heard a sermon on Jesus’ last words I was surprised to learn that Jesus also had a mommy.  You see, you never hear about him living at home/interacting with His family other than when Mary and Joseph were worried sick because he disappeared to hang with his Father in the temple (Luke 2:41-52).  Mostly, He’s just 30ish year old Jesus doin’ what he do-  walking by/on seas, hangin’ with people, performing miracles, preaching, making people mad, etc.. Then there’s the occasional mention of his family by others and he generally downplays their importance, focusing on our Heavenly Father, the Church, etc. (Luke 11:27-28) Or even that time when He’s told his mother and brothers are looking for him and he gets into the semantics of the meaning of “mother” and “brothers” (Matt 12:49-50. Mark 3:33-35, Luke 8:19-21). So yeah, Jesus had a mother, but we don’t see a lot of mother-son relationship other than the son going off and doing His own thing while His mother is there, looking for him, worrying about him, treasuring things about Him in her heart.  That sounds very much like a mother- child relationship to me. Like Runaway Bunny (although for good reason- bunny runs away for the sake of it, Jesus has a purpose), Jesus runs all over the country, performing miracles, being a renegade, etc. but there Mary is- showing up where He’s preaching, right there with His friends, and of course, she follows Him to the cross. He can even ascend to heaven if He wants and you know, be God and stuff, but I like to think that no matter what, He will always be her little bunny.  Because she was  His mommy. Jesus had a mommy.

Then, there’s Jesus’ response to His mommy. Like I said, you don’t see a lot of His interactions with His mother that really denote her as special but then there’s that moment on the cross. Jesus is dying for the sins of the entire world and in a lot of pain. He doesn’t say a lot, but one of the few things He does make an effort to do is make sure that someone is taking care of His mommy. His mommy who is now a widow (a generally accepted idea given that Mary isn’t seen with Joseph later in Jesus’’ ministry and that fact that Jesus asks one of his disciples to care for her in His place). His mommy who is also a Jewish mommy, a mommy who has worried a lot, a mommy who has had to endure traveling to Egypt away from her family and going into hiding to save His life, who had to endure social scorn and struggle in the process of bringing Him into the world, a mommy who has followed Him to the cross, a mommy who will watch her son die, and a mommy who now, alone, without a husband, will have to keep on living in a world where her son is not (at least in body) and then watch his friends get killed one by one. Jesus had a mommy. A mommy with A LOT of baggage. And I think it would be naïve of me to think that Jesus didn’t carry that, even if He did downplay his human family relationships when they were brought up during His teaching.

So maybe I have trouble with Hebrews 4 and Jesus’ relatability, but when I think about Jesus and that one of His last earthly actions was to make sure His mommy was ok, I have a little less trouble. Because that tells me He gets it. Not that He didn’t before for all the other reasons, but sometimes that’s just a bunch of theology taking up my headspace. Jesus having a mommy breaks in and starts to fill my heartspace.

The Dangers of Love

There are a number of pop songs I could quote here- all about how it hurts, scars, leaving us standing heartache to heartache, rolling in the deep.
But I'm sick of hearing Adele and  besides, we aren't talking about the same thing.

Love isn't dangerous because it hurts, it's dangerous because it feels right and infallible.

A better quote is one that I will overuse for what I'm sure will not be the last time:
"There is but one good; that is God. Everything else is good when it looks to Him and bad when it turns from Him. And the higher and mightier it is in the natural order, the more demoniac it will be if it rebels. It’s not out of bad mice or bad fleas you make demons, but out of bad archangels."- C.S. Lewis

Having just moved back to Illinois from Massachusetts but to a new area, a new job, I found myself feeling guilty for all I'd left behind in Massachusetts. There were just so many people I had come to love so dearly there- relationships formed from interesting and uncommon situations that formed uncommon bonds. Feelings close to those of parenthood and perhaps the kind you form with army buddies. Regardless, this is the kind of love that moves in and becomes a part of you- it changes you for good, in every sense of the word.

Everytime I move somewhere new I go through a period of bratiness "this isn't like it was in __(insert name of previous place I was here)__ it's stupid." This time wasn't necessarily that way. I have been feeling very appreciative of all the people I've met here who have been so friendly and supportive. It's nice being close to old friends and family, too. But the circumstances are different and attachments won't form in the same ways and perhaps not as intensely as they did in the odd circumstances I found myself in in Massachusetts. I had been back in IL almost a month when I realized I was still mourning goodbyes. Mostly, I was mourning the loss of students I really said goodbye to 6 months ago. I found myself unable to make proper attachments to people in my new life or appreciate my students as much as I should. I argued back and forth with myself about this.
I loved my old students so much- that must mean something good. What could be wrong with that? So I dwelt upon it, thinking it had to mean something. Was something wrong with my new life situation? Was it wrong of my to leave them? No, there was nothing left for me there, my career couldn't expand further and I had friends and family here I felt the need to be closer to. No, God called me to leave some of those relationships behind. Why then, did I still feel this way? Love always seems to be so good, what could be wrong with loving them so much?
Well, obviously something was wrong because it was preventing me from loving others the way I should, preventing me from forming attachments. It was holding me captive. That, to me, sounds like an idol.
In fact, it sounds like a woman C.S. Lewis describes who loved her son so much that when she lost him, she grieved him, thinking to let go of loving him so intensely would be wrong. In the end, she alienated the rest of her family and did more damage in the process. Worst of all, she came to want her son more than God and cared more about heaven to see her son than to see God. This, is not the definition of heaven. And, while this may be "love" in the emotive form, it is not Love with a capital L, the kind that is good because it directs itself to God, the source and definition of Love, the Spirit that makes it so much more, and thus much more powerful, than an emotion.

Think of how many stories you hear about friendships, family relationships thrown away or hurt in the name of love, people murdered in the name of "love." Love can be a wonderful thing, but what are we using it as an excuse for?

Love is dangerous because it is higher in the order of emotions and really, higher in the order of most everything else on this earth.  Love is dangerous because it can feel so good and right because, in many cases, it is. But it, like anything on earth that is not turned toward God, can be used for darkness and the more powerful it is, the more dangerous.

Love is dangerous because we often think it to be the end all be all. But the truth is that although God is love (along with many other things), love is not God.


The pop songs are right to a degree, love may be a battlefield, but it is also weapon. The question is, is it being yielded for good or for evil?

What Grace Feels Like

At a church retreat this weekend another member and I sat in the dining hall discussing the primary notion of the book, What's So Amazing About Grace (Phillip Yancy). "What is so great about Grace?" I asked. He mentioned some points that weren't new to me, but nonetheless true and relevant. I agreed with them but it didn't matter. "Well I know all that," I said "but I'm just tired of hearing about Grace. Grace, Grace, Grace, Grace, Grace, Grace, Grace. It's so overused that I take it for granted. I can barely remember what it felt like not to have Grace, being a person who grew up in the church and heard about it all the time. I only remember a period when I fell away from God and the difference from that period of time to when I really came into my faith for the first time. But how long can you hang onto that? I don't know what it's like not to have it so I just can't feel it."
He had remarked that I seemed to be a person who was pretty in tune with Grace. "well, I don't feel it," I said, "at least not today."

Three years ago I had just taken my first teaching job and was working with high school aged young ladies with autism. I remember swimming in our pool one day with one of them. She loved being chased in the water and her eyes sparkled in this remarkable way as she laughed heartily and infectiously. We swam in the deep end and the sunlight fell upon the water through a skylight so that the pool just appeared to be a light-filled, warm, moving body. I remember thinking then, "life just doesn't get better than this." It was then that I became convinced that heaven must be made up of sparkling pools of light and children's laughter.

Grace, Grace, Grace. What is Grace, anyway? I always think back to my basic religions class in college where my professor explained the difference between Grace and Mercy. Mercy is not getting the bad you do deserve, Grace is getting the good (or favor) you don't deserve. When we're speaking of it in Christian circles we're usually using the word to refer to a specific kind of Grace- the salvation we receive that we don't deserve through Jesus' death on the Cross. This is what I can't always feel. I wasn't there, I didn't see it- I didn't know a world where Jesus hadn't yet died for my sins. I was raised within the idea of salvation, within a world of Grace. Jesus' death to forgive my sins seems so removed and abstract sometimes- I don't feel how it impacts my daily life. Sure He makes me free, but when you're basically born into freedom and live in it everyday, how to you conceptualize it or even know what freedom is since you've barely known jail?

Heaven filled with children's laughter- that notion isn't quite biblically supported, I know. I remember talking about this to a friend of mine. Moreover, I remember considering whether my love for children and my passion to work with them had become an idol. I view it as a calling and my work with children has been tied to my faith so long that I wondered if perhaps I had confused them- had they become interchangeable to me when in reality, God and children are not the same thing? If God asked me to give up teaching, give up working with children, would I? I think, in fact, I know the answer is yes, although my friend posed this question: "If there aren't children in heaven, are you interested in going?"  I thought back to the pools of light, the laughter I felt convinced had to be there because it was the greatest blessing I'd ever known. "Here's the thing," I answered (At this, my friend laughed because apparently, this is supposed to be an easy "yes" or "no" question) "anything truly good is God. All the good things that I love in the world, I love because I love God- He can be found in it. So all the parts of the things that I love will be there in heaven- even if they don't resemble the things I know now."

It's three years later and some things have changed. I no longer work with teenage girls and the student of whom I spoke has been gone from our school for some time now. Today I threw a giggling elementary aged boy up into the air, as he came crashing down into the water splashing and then jumping on top of me, wanting me to hold him and bounce him I thought, as I had about my girls not so long ago, "this is the greatest blessing I've ever been given." Quickly, I chastised myself, "no, that's not right- I'm not supposed to believe this is better than the Grace I've been given by Jesus" although, I couldn't feel that above the love and complete and total blessing I felt in this moment. Perhaps this love of children was an idol, perhaps I didn't appreciate God's Grace at all. My student looked at me adoringly with his big onyx orbs, laughing so joyfully in the water, the boy that once couldn't even enter a pool area. It was then I knew that all of these things were the same. Grace- when we are given the blessings we don't deserve. As sinners, what are we deserving of? Every blessing- every smile, every laugh, every moment of friendship, every glimpse of beauty, every piece of blue sky, ever sliver of light is a bit of Grace. And every bit of it we only have access to because of the freedom we have in Christ, because we have a forgiving God who wants to know us and love us (whether we've accepted Him or not) and writes love letters to all of  us each day, hoping we'll fall in love and start coming home. Because of the Grace I've known for years but think I can't feel- the Grace I have from Jesus' dying on the cross to overcome darkness, I get the Grace I know every second, every day- the little bits of light I catch because Someone let them loose into an otherwise dark and broken world.

I know heaven must be filled with children's laughter, at the very least in a new form, because I know heaven is filled with Grace- in fact, it's made up of it.

The Most Important Thing

Here is the thing. I hate words. I love them and yet, I hate their limitations. Or is it my limitations in their use? Perhaps it's just because I speak English and need to speak a more expressive or precise language. Maybe I should learn ancient Greek. That probably wouldn't help much but at least there are multiple, more precise words for different types of love. That would help some, right?

Here is the problem I have with words: They can never express the wonder and awe and love I feel for the amazing web of humanity I see continually falling out before me. This and related topics are generally the areas where I feel words fail me most. I can never express to people how much I care about them, how much they've meant to me or express just the beauty of the human situations I find myself in. Perhaps I should be blaming my own capacity of expression rather than the capacity of words themselves

Here is the thing about people: I love them.

Here is the thing about people: they are inherently (at least in this phase of our eternity given our fallen world) compelled toward darkness- things that destroy them and destroy others. We hear Christian doctrine preached all the time about the depravity of man. How we are these sinful creatures who can do nothing without God. I have friends who say they see God's goodness and how people turn from it, how they turn away from Him and thus from their potential. People are frustrating. I could not agree more. Sometimes I just want to collapse on the floor as I helplessly watch people cripple themselves in turning away from God. Sometimes, I collapse on the floor because I just can't stop crippling myself or other people. But Someone always seems to help me up again.

But here is the thing about people: More than I see what I wrote above, I see the most beautiful things I have ever beheld come from them and within them (that I can only assume come from the Spirit within them). I see so much pure love and joy and selflessness. I watch children laugh uncontrollably and I'd swear all darkness must have disappeared from the face of the earth. I've experienced communities of people who will walk through fire for one another, I've seen complete strangers connect in remarkable ways, I've had people I never met come to my aid. Here is the thing about words in describing this vital concept: they fail me.

Despite our great capacity for darkness, God shines through it when some bright, light goodness breaks forth- it is these moments that I think we cherish most in life- the ones where this goodness, this light shines. It is in these moments that humanity shows who it was meant to be. It is in these moments that we remember that darkness in the end, does not win.

The important thing to remember about all of this is that it's mediated through people.
I think at times, because of the fallen world we live in and the sin that runs rampant in every one of us, we operate with a continually negative view of humanity. We devalue the spirits around us that are immortal even if the bodies that hold them will pass away. Even if the world that holds them will pass away. Because really, the only thing in your life right now that will not die (aside from God), are the Spirits of those around you.

C.S. Lewis says it best"
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.”


So whatever it is that we are doing here, whether it be the work we do, the hobbies we have, the civilization we perpetuate with our existence- we must remember that it is the relationships we make, the people we pass by every day that last in one way or another. Knowing, loving, relating to one another- this is what we are doing here, this is the most important thing.

Easter: Love Wins

You may have heard of a book by this title written by an interesting fellow named Rob Bell. This post is not about that book, although it is on similar topic. I suspect, however, that Mr. Bell and I will be making somewhat different points.
"Love wins" is a very popular notion. Like Love Wins the book, lots of books with this theme in them have become bestsellers. Harry Potter, Twilight (although real Love doesn't win in this case because Ms. Meyer is confused about what Love is but she convinces her readers that it's love (and perhaps it is indeed, lowercase-l kind of love) and therefore it appears that love wins), etc. etc. Unlike Love Wins, however, these books are popular because people enjoy them rather than purchase them for the purpose of analyzing and mocking them. Not only books but movies, and any other media or form of story that portrays the theme of "love wins" tend to be very popular. There is a reason for this: it is because this is the root of what our hearts long for, this is the summation of the plan for the world. But, I have news for you: all these books and movies that you love so much- they STOLE their primary premise, their main theme.
Maybe stole is a harsh word. I'm just being hyperbolic. They were influenced, whether they realize it or not, to incorporate into their story the theme that originated from the greatest story ever told.

Let me tell you a little bit about it:
There were some ordinary guys walking around doing their usual jobs and being "normal" people. You know, traveling along the roads to work, cheating people out of money, ignoring people in need, lying, the average stuff we do every day. They had families- wives, children, brothers, sisters, large extended families. But something is missing. You know what I mean- there's that longing for Something more, Something better. Then one day, this dude comes along and proves Himself (through miracles and explaining He is the answer to some prophesies, longtime religious/spiritual longings, and complicated theological issues) to be that Something, more like Someone who fills that longing. In fact, He is so great that He overcomes all those dark every day things that turned out to define and limit those poor ordinary guys (of course, they didn't really realize this until He came along).
Suddenly, things that seemed hopeless to these normal guys seem hopeful. Suddenly, He is the greatest hope of their lives so they leave everything- their families, their lives- and follow Him. But then He dies. In fact, all the powers of darkness that reside in humans- the very dark sorts of deeds that these ordinary guys once engaged in every day, kill him. Maybe this Great Hope was not above them- those dark forces, all those limitations- after all.

Crap.

Let me put this another way:
Have you ever had something come along that you put all your hope in? If not, perhaps something you put much of your hope for some part of your life in? Maybe it was the promise of money you desperately needed to solve a financial crisis, a job that seemed to be the answer to finding meaningful work or needed financial stability. Perhaps it was a relationship with another person, even children? Something that made you hope again that things would be ok, that your life was no longer meaningless. So you count on it, you put all your hope in it, put all your "eggs in one basket" so to speak (commence knee slapping laughter since it's Easter) and perhaps abandon other things in pursuit of this hope- perhaps you could even call it a dream and then you could as old Langston what happens to a dream if it is deferred.

But then, this world steps in as it always seems to do. Various circumstances, perhaps reckless or harmful actions of others, and, dare I say, the forces of darkness in general, kill it, take it away. The thing you hoped most for, that you relied upon is dead and it seems as though it ceases to exist. What do you do now?
I feel like I would respond with complete desolation accompanied by an angry, "of course! This is just like the world! Nothing can ever go right!"And I would be correct, it is just like the world (the world influenced by darkness at least) to attempt to destroy any hope we have, to eradicate goodness from it.

So, imagine being in this hopeless state- you have just begun to convince yourself that darkness may have won this time and then...
circumstances arise in which your hope returns- stronger than ever because it could not be beaten and thereby proving that it is, in fact, the real deal- something worthy of investing your hope in.

And this is how it was with these ordinary guys who placed all their hope in Christ and His message. For a hot second they may have felt like utter fools. They gave up everything for this dude because they thought he was right- the real deal, THE Dude. But then, this Dude they followed who claimed he was the Son of God, the King of this world, who would bring eternal life had just been killed by a bunch of mere mortals. Well, there goes that...
Even more disconcerting, some of those involved in sentencing  Him to death considered themselves men of God, some may have been people these ordinary guys knew. Worse  yet, some of these ordinary guys themselves were too cowardly to even stand up for their greatest Hope when faced with the task. We're dealing with sheer darkness influencing men here- sheer darkness took down the Greatest Hope of men.

"Where is your King now?" could have been the taunt our ordinary guys would have received. "Where is your hope now?"
And just when we start to think that maybe the darkness did win after all, in the ultimate twist, He returns! And BAM! Love (God- because God is love and Jesus is God/Jesus' actions are the stuff of sheer love) wins! Proving that He is above the powers of darkness- nothing, no matter how evil can take Him down. Nothing can kill our Hope because when it is in  Him, it is immortal.
Think about this- you can have a Hope that can NOT die. That, my friends is a powerful thing. Even more powerful is the notion that we love so much when told in other stories and books but often ignore when we hear it in THE Book: The light shines in the darkness and the darkness CAN NOT overcome it. Love, my dear friends, wins.