When I was a kid about eight or nine years old, down the end of the street that I lived in, one of my friends from school, uh it was just a couple of houses down, and they lived on this enormous block of land at the end of the street, and it had all sorts of different exciting parts that you could play in and be involved in and and uh and explore, and there was this embankment, this big tall embankment in one part of the property, and one day we were playing there on this embankment, and we were pulling apart some of the vegetation and the overgrown vines that I would describe as just being left, and we found this worn gray timber-weathered planks that were stacked on top of one another, looking something like this image. And as an adult on an embankment, I would look at this and describe it as a retaining wall there to prevent the embankment from sliding away from heavy rain. But as a nine-year-old, I'd seen this before. I knew exactly what it was. It was an abandoned gold mine. And I said to my friend, look what we've found. And I said, Your house has gold in the backyard. And I said to my friend, we've got to start digging. And they said, Well, my dad's got a shovel and a pick in the shed. I said, Well, go get it. And so he came back a few minutes later with a shovel and a pick, probably as big as us, and we started hacking into the ground. We started clearing what I described as overgrown, unnecessary plant life that maybe their mother might have thought differently. And we started digging this big deep hole and then clearing all of the vegetation, and we didn't find anything on day one, and then we came back on day two and day three, and I don't know how long this went for, but what I do remember is a massive pile of dirt and a big deep hole as we searched desperately looking for gold in the backyard of my friend's house. I don't remember how it ended. Maybe it's blocked out of my memory. I don't remember whether we lost interest or whether a parent eventually came to check on us horrified by what we were doing. But what I do know is that we didn't find gold. And I was disappointed. Because I know as we were digging, there were little thoughts in my mind thinking, are we is this actually gonna happen or not? I'm sure this is a gold mine, but I I'm starting to lose hope as we search for this gold. And I wonder if you've ever experienced something in your life, something like my nine-year-old self, totally convinced there was gold here somewhere, but you've been left empty-handed. You've done all of the right things, you've chased after the right stuff, you've put in place uh appropriate measures, you've worked hard, but what life has returned for your effort has been disappointment. Discouragement. Maybe loss, maybe grief, maybe deep, deep hurt. I wonder if you've ever experienced something far more serious than my nine-year-old self. Discouragement and disappointment that rattled you, that shook you. Maybe you're carrying that kind of disappointment in with you today as we worship. I want to talk today about faithfulness through discouragement. What does it mean to be faithful to God in the midst of discouragement, disappointment, grief, loss, pain, and hurt? Because to live is to taste the bitter taste of disappointment, isn't it? It just is. If I asked you to raise your hand if you know what I'm talking about, most of us would say, Yeah, I'm carrying that right now. If I said, what about a past experience? Most of us in the room would raise our hand, and if there was one or two of us that didn't know what I was talking about, well, unfortunately, it's coming. Disappointment and discouragement, they are part of the journey of life, the failure of a pursuit, conflict within our families, friends that somehow disappeared. Or maybe it's the inner world thoughts that refuse to leave you alone, that torment you and discourage you through the day or the night. Maybe a career path that didn't go where you thought, a job that didn't come through, the marriage that broke down, prayers that seemingly led to nothing, a world of conflict, grief, and pain. Whenever we go to our newsfeeds or look at the evening news, or the death of a loved one that brought overwhelming grief. And while we'll only have time to just simply scratch the surface of the conversation today, I want to explore this very real question in our lives. What does it look like to live faithfully in the midst of the discouragement and disappointment of our lives? I want to talk to you about a guy called John. You might know him as John the Baptist, he's a figure in the New Testament story. And John is one of these people that you meet in life who's passionate, all out, all committed, will give everything away in the pursuit of the vision that he sees. Is there you've met these people? They're wild, they're crazy, they're all in in whatever pursuits they do. And we meet John in Matthew chapter 3, and he's described as someone in the wilderness who wears camel hair for clothing, who eats wild honey and locusts. That's his diet. And we see him as someone who's turned his back on the power and privilege, on the systems and the egos of the world, and he has given his life to this vision that the kingdom of God is coming. And when the kingdom of God comes, all of this stuff of how we live our lives, it's going to fall apart. It's going to be deconstructed. And so he calls to people from the wilderness repent, change your ways, prepare because the kingdom of God is coming. But he's not just this loner in the wilderness, he's an influencer of his day. His message, his complete commitment, his all of life investment in this belief that he has people following him. He's influencing them. There's crowds flocking to the wilderness to hear what he has to say. And as they come and listen to his teaching about the kingdom of God that's coming and how we need to turn from the systems and the powers and the principalities of the world, he baptizes people. And person after person is baptized into this vision of a kingdom that is coming. And then one day Jesus shows up. Before he's done anything, before anybody really recognizes who he is, it seems that John knows of Jesus and knows there's something of power and importance over Jesus' life. Because when Jesus comes to be baptized, John says, No way, I can't baptize you. You should baptize me. I can't do this. Jesus says to him, No, John, you must baptize me, convinces him, and so John agrees, baptizes Jesus in the river, and as Jesus comes out, we see this picture that's described of the Spirit of God descending on Jesus, falling on him like a dove, it says. And then a voice is heard saying, This is my son whom I love. In him I am well pleased. And John sees with his own eyes. He hears with his own ears. He feels with his own hands that Jesus is the promised Messiah, the one who is to come, the one whose life will tear down the kingdoms and the powers and the sin and the dysfunction and the brokenness of this world, the one who will usher in the kingdom of God and change all things. John sees and knows for himself that Jesus is the one. It's like his great bet pays off. His crazy, wild pursuit to turn his back on everything is vindicated in his moment in this moment. He was right. He was right. He has correctly identified the kingdom of heaven that is coming. And now he just gets to wait and join in in the glory of the kingdom of God that is to come. But John's story doesn't play out how he expected. Because from this moment on, John doesn't go from strength to strength. He doesn't receive the joy and victory that you think he might deserve. He doesn't ride on the wave of Jesus, but instead his life begins to deteriorate from this point on. Just a matter of months later, he's arrested and thrown in jail. Just a matter of months later, the powers, the egos, the pride, the systems of this world that he said was about to fall became sick of him and threw him in prison. His ministry is reduced, his voice is taken from him, and the vision that he was so passionate about seemingly is snuffed out. As Jesus becomes greater and starts his ministry, John becomes less and begins to be destroyed. The greed, the politics, the pride, the systems of the world that were meant to be conquered seemingly conquer John. And after a while, as John sits in this place, he starts to experience something that I reckon almost all of us have experienced. Eventually, after sustained discouragement and disappointment and hardship, John begins to doubt. And he wonders, did I get it right? Was I right about Jesus? Was I right about this kingdom coming and the systems of the world falling down? Because this isn't how it was meant to go. This doesn't look like what I thought was meant to happen. And he begins to wonder, maybe I've been chasing after the wrong leader. Maybe, maybe I got it wrong that day. Maybe I don't know, it was hot, I was thirsty, I'd been preaching all day, I hadn't had a drink. Maybe I didn't hear that voice. Maybe I didn't see the Spirit of God. Maybe I didn't know that that maybe I misunderstood who Jesus is. Maybe I got it wrong. I wonder if you've had these kinds of doubts and second thoughts in your life in sustained discouragement and hardship. And so from prison, John sends his disciples to find Jesus to ask. It says, When John was in prison, when John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to ask him, Are you the one who is to come? Or should we expect someone else? Did we get it wrong that day, Jesus? Is there someone else to come? Jesus replied, Go back and report to John what you hear and see. The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me. Notice that Jesus doesn't become angry with John in his moment of doubt. Notice that Jesus doesn't rebuke him for asking a question about Jesus' identity, asking a question of whether he's got it wrong. Jesus doesn't give up on John, although John is not sure what to make of the circumstances that he's in. Notice that Jesus doesn't scold John as he's in the midst of suffering. But he gives John a gift. He responds compassionately and lovingly and supportively in a way of guiding John forward. He doesn't directly answer John's question. It might be frustrating. Why don't Jesus, why don't you just say, Yes, I'm the Messiah? He doesn't answer John's question directly, he doesn't ease the pain that John is in. He doesn't medivac him out of the wilderness of pain that he's in and just make the answer simple and easy and straightforward for John. Instead, he gives him something to consider. John, what do you see? What do you hear? What do you feel? What do you notice about the world around you right now, John? Because if you pay attention to what you see is happening, what you hear, the testimony that is going on, if you pay attention to what is going on, it might not be what you prayed for, asked for, hoped for. But if you look at what is happening, John, you will see the kingdom of God in your midst. You will find your blessing, your joy, your hope, your encouragement, your guidance if you look at what is. It may not be what you asked for, it may not be what you hoped for. But John, just as you did in the river a few months ago, pay attention to what you see around you. Jesus doesn't answer John's question directly, but he gives him a guiding action. He doesn't deny John's pain or minimize it, but in this in the midst of his pain, he begins to train John's eyes of faith. John, pay attention. Look again. I'm not gonna medivac you out of this, I'm not gonna make the answer easy for you, but I am gonna guide you. I am going to walk with you. And I think this is so important for us to notice today. So the sense as I prepared this week that this is for somebody here to notice and take hold of right now in your moment of your life. Because if Jesus just answers John yes or no, makes it simple and easy for him, then John's faith is on account of Jesus' testimony. It's Jesus who's doing the work, not John. It's Jesus whose faith, whose testimony, whose evidence is what John is trusting. But Jesus wants John to know the identity of Jesus because of John's faith, because of John's eyes, because of what John has recognized and seen and known for himself. How many of us know that if you're told something, that's okay? If you learn it yourself, it will stick. You won't forget it. You'll know it. It's a hard-fought learning that you weren't for yourself, and here Jesus is training and guiding John with eyes of faith to see, not to meditvac him out, not to just just uh uh take him out of the pain of the wilderness of experience of his experience in a moment, but to walk with him through the wilderness, and in doing so to show him that God is at work, the kingdom is coming, the kingdom is at work around you, John. Just pay attention to what you see. It might not be what you asked for, it might not be what you hoped for, it may not be how you thought the kingdom would come, but John, pay attention, and there your faith, your courage, your strength within your discouragement will be found. And you might wonder, well, that's great. That's fantastic. It's nice to hear that Jesus is interested in strengthening John's faith in the midst of his discouragement, of giving him courage that will sustain him and hold him and help him to last through the pain that he's in. That's nice to hear, but why do we suffer in the first place? Because in my life things were going great. It was all fantastic. It's nice to hear that when I suffer, I might get I can get stronger, I can grow, I can have more faith. But why suffer at all? It seems unnecessary, it seems hard, it seems worthless. Is it really worth the incremental growth of faith to suffer and go through the pain that I'm going through in my life or that I have experienced? What's with a good God in the world that we look at? How can a good God exist in a world of suffering and pain and torment like we see around us? And that's a very good question. It's a question that I ask often myself, God, where are you in all that I see happening around me? It's a question that I wonder many of us here today would hold that. How does it work that a good God exists in the kind of suffering and brokenness of this world that we see? It's a question maybe front of mind for some of us walking in here today. God, where are you in this pain, in this discouragement, in this disappointment of my life? And full disclosure. I'm not within this sermon going to be able to answer this question for you. I'm not gonna give you an answer just now that will settle it. You're done, you're sorted, you can now uh wash your hands of the question and move on to the next one. It doesn't quite work like that. We could spend a whole sermon series on this question, we won't quite get to an answer. We could spend a whole year, we won't quite get to an answer. We could spend our whole lifetimes, we won't quite come to an answer. Such is the complexity and the depth of the question and the experience itself. But there are responses. There are responses, there are perspectives, there are conversations to be had about a good God in the midst of suffering in our world. And they're not answers that settle it without any further conversation, but they are responses that together can begin to bring a sense of peace, a sense of settledness, a response from you that says, Well, I don't get it all, but for now I have enough to take another step. And just one of those biblical responses and narratives throughout the Bible is the picture of the good God, the God of creation, positioning himself like a suffering servant. Not a God who sits on a throne above us in power, but the one who serves us and suffers as he serves us. This is how the prophet Isaiah describes him in Isaiah chapter 52, the one who bleeds with us, the one who mourns as we mourn, the one who weeps as we weep. Far from the pop culture definition of God that we have today, who's distant and on a cloud and who coldly watches us suffer. No, this is the God who is close, who enters into suffering. The God who doesn't observe our pain but carries it with us. The God who doesn't promise that we'll never suffer, but promises that our suffering won't be the final word over our lives. And that He will carry the weight with us. And in Jesus at the cross, I would say we see the very picture of what a good God looks like in a world of suffering. It is the picture of what a good God looks like within a world of suffering. That he, the creator of the universe, as he breathes his final breaths in pain on the cross, he says, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? They're not words of a faithless defeat. They are words directly quoted from Psalm 22. A psalm, a prayer written hundreds of years earlier. A psalm of lament. A psalm of pain. A psalm of discouragement through the experiences of life. A psalm that is a prayer that people for hundreds of years before Jesus have prayed and read over in their discouragement and their disappointment and their suffering and their pain. A prayer that mirrors the very prayers that we often pray today. God, where are you? Where are you in the midst of this pain? Where are you in the midst of this discouragement and this disappointment? And this is what Jesus speaks in his final breaths. Not a faithless defeat, but words of lament and suffering. Words that identify with the suffering and the pain of our experience of life. On the cross, Jesus speaks the word, these words is coming alongside any who suffer, any who cry out in lament. He is the one who suffers with us. He knows what it's like. He's the one who suffers alongside us. On the cross, he shoulders the burden and the weights and the heartache and the tears and the pain of all that we go through in life. It's shared with him there in that moment on the cross. He knows our suffering because the God of creation has suffered and continues to suffer through the dysfunction and sin and brokenness of this world with us. This is the image of the good creator God of the Bible. This is what the story points towards that a good God is the one who chooses to serve and take on the suffering of the world onto himself. Like I said, I don't expect that this thought will have settled everything for you, that it will have answered it. But it may just may give you courage to keep looking, to keep searching, to keep chasing after him. Habakkuk chapter 3, verse 17 and 18. It says, Though the fig tree does not bud, and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, this is bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God, my Savior. The word yet in this prayer of the prophet Habakkuk is a powerful, powerful word. It is not a yet of denial. It is not a yet that pretends the pain and the suffering and the dysfunction does not exist. It's not a yet of diminishing pain or denying its existence. It's a yet that acknowledges all of this is true. We are suffering, we are hungry, there is nothing good to be spoken of in our day today. Yet I will praise him. The word yet is a powerful statement of trust within this prayer. It's a powerful statement of faith. It's a powerful statement of the posture that the prayer takes. Yet I will seek after him, I will rejoice, I will praise him. Despite the circumstances and pain that I'm in, I know that God remains unchanged. He was good yesterday, yet he remains the same today. And I will look to him, I will search to him, I will turn my attention not only to the things of pain that I see in my life today, but I will also look to him. I will also look to his presence, his character, his ways in this world. I will look for the evidence of his kingdom at work, even though I'm in the midst of great suffering and pain right now. Yet is a powerful statement of faith. Yet I will seek him, yet I will praise him, yet I will look to him. Some of us need to pray today in our lives powerful prayers of yet. Not denying the suffering and the pain and the weight that you're carrying, but inserting into that yet. I know who God is. Yet I will keep looking to him. Yet I will search him out, and I will continue to praise him. Yet is a powerful faith posture. It's a powerful prayer of trust. Today we're gonna share in communion before I finish, but before we move to that time of communion, I have one last picture for us to kind of sum up an image of what it is that I'm speaking about today. Because you see, faith through discouragement, it's a lot less like the naivety of the nine-year-old me searching for a gold nugget in my friend's backyard. And a lot more like the prospector who pans for gold in the stream. Have you ever had a go at panning for gold before? Maybe you've been to Sovereign Hill and had a go and tried it out for yourself. It's a very, very different thing to the nine-year-old me looking for a big chunk of gold in my friend's backyard. Because what you do when you pan for gold is you take a whole clump of rock and clay and mud and you put it in the pan with some water and you start washing it around. And you take out the big bits first, and you take out some of the mud and the clay, you get rid of the things that you know are not gold, and you keep chipping away and washing these things out of your pan. Until eventually you get down to what's left is just sand and small, tiny sediments in the bottom of the pan. And gold is the heaviest of any of these sediments in the bottom of the pan. And so you slowly just wash the sand and the leftover mud around bit by bit, grain by grain, getting rid of all of the sand and the dirt until what you're left with at the bottom of your pan are specks of gold. You take those specks, you put them in a bag, and you start all over again. The vision is not standing by a stream looking for the obvious big, grand, great gold nugget, hoping that your fortune will all come at once, but instead sifting through the mud and the clay and the rock and the muck and mess that's in your pan, for the specks of gold that are there. The prospector is training their eyes to notice gold in the small and unexpected places. So that by the end of their day, their bag is not filled with one great grand gold nugget, but with a powder of gold specks. And this is what Jesus is training John towards. This is what he's often training us towards as well, that as we walk through times of disappointment and discouragement, they're like a pan filled with mud and muck and worthless experiences. Faith is training our eyes to notice the specks of kingdom work that are emerging around us. Maybe things we didn't expect for, pray for, or ask for, but nevertheless, the kingdom coming in our midst. But there's a bit more to the picture than just this. Because over the course of a day, the prospector who pans for gold has many, many pans that come up empty. Many, many pans that they sift through were nothing more than mark and mud and disappointment. At least that's what their testimony was. But whether this pan is full of mark or mud or disappointment, or whether there's specks of gold, the prospector who succeeds remains the same towards both pans. Their posture, their nature, their diligence, their eyes don't change. Whether there's value in the pan or nothing but worthless mud and mark and mess, they remain unchanged in their posture and their diligence and their eyes of faith that they take to this pan. And I'm not going to belittle you with a sermon today that says, whatever hardship you're going through, there's specks of gold within it. God's good, there's a silver lining, you just haven't seen it yet. You need a greater faith because I've come to learn in life that sometimes some of the pain we experience was just mark. It's just mud. It's just a pan of rocks. So no matter how hard I tried, I can't see any value and worth within it. I'm not going to tell you to look harder. I'm not going to tell you that you have failed in faith because you can't see maybe something that's not there. Maybe it is just hardship and pain and disappointment. Yet, faithfulness through discouragement remains the same. The one who prevails continues to search out the character and ways of God. Those who prevail, despite their uncertainties and doubts and wonders if they got this right, continue to seek after God. John didn't hide in his prison cell and give up. No, he went to Jesus and said, Jesus, this isn't making sense. I need help. I need more. Can you give it to me? And so the image of the prospector panning in the stream is one of searching for the specks of gold, but also one who prays the prayer, yet, whether this pan is one that I can see worth and value in, or this pan that I've been given is full of mud and mark, yet I will continue to turn up. Yet I will continue to place my trust in him. Yet I will lean on him and his nature. Yet I will continue to seek him out and live according to his ways. Yet I will search for him. We had a great Sunday last Sunday, didn't we? You saw some of the pictures earlier. What a great celebration. One of those amazing mountaintop experiences celebrating 75 years of God's work and his faithfulness through the life of this church. I wish we could just live every week like that. I just wish that every single experience of life would be that encouraging, would be that much fun, would be that filled with joy. Last week, Andrew got us to build together this big, beautiful block wall, didn't he? 75 years of faithfulness at New Hope. And Andrew had a bit of fun saying that each of our 20 stones, there are a two and a half-ton block being put together in place. Well, my son managed to get himself on the platform and help put one of those blocks in place. And after he finished, he ran back down and very confidently declared to everyone in the back corner of the auditorium it wasn't that heavy at all. It was just cardboard. I knocked on it. But you know the truth is today, many of us walk in with what feels like a two and a half ton block on our shoulders. It's not cardboard. It's not pretend. It's not just an imaginary weight. It's real. And you wear it heavy with you today. It's either your burden, it's the burden of somebody else's, it's the burden of a past experience that you don't know what to do with. It's the burden of loss or grief, heartache, discouragement, doubts, or sin. And you're barely holding on. And when you turn your eyes to it and embrace this weight, you too would pray the prayer that Jesus prays on the cross. God, God, where are you? I don't get it, I don't see it, I don't understand, I'm filled with disappointment and lament and discouragement. God, where are you as I carry this weight? And I can think of no better place to take this burden on your shoulders than to the table of communion, to the place that is here for the two and a half time block, to not be denied or to pretend it's not there, to not just try and imagine it away and escape it, but to lay it at the cross of Jesus, to take the pain of grief and disappointment of dysfunction, sin and heartache, and to offer it to the one who would shoulder it with you. That we would calm and bring that weight and receive freedom and grace, suffering and pain, yet we meet the God of grace and love, body and blood broken and poured out for us as a statement of unending love, faithfulness, companionship, and friendship. Who shoulders this burden with us? At the cross of Jesus, we see that God is not distant and aloof and running from us, but he is near. He suffers with you. He carries the burden of weight with you. At his resurrection, we see that suffering is not the final word. There is hope, there is life, there is more to come beyond this moment. And between these two promises, we practice faith, faithfulness in the midst of disappointment, searching for the kingdom when it comes in unexpected places, praying a faithful prayer of yet I will continue to search after you and seeking him in the midst of the pain and the dysfunction of our lives. Would you stand with me? I'm gonna invite you to come forward for communion in just a moment, and as you do, imagine the two and a half ton block on your shoulders, and exchanging it for the love and grace of Jesus. I'm not gonna promise you that your pain will be gone. I'm not gonna promise you that this will somehow fix everything. I'm not gonna promise you a medivac out of the wilderness of your pain. But I have come to know the one who loves you, who sees you, who knows you by name, and will shoulder the weight with you. At his cross, his grace is unending. At his cross, we find love that never gives up all us.