For the past two Sundays, we have had a parable of Jesus that has ended with talk about a “furnace of fire” and the familiar phrase “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” These are, of course, a description of hell, presented here as it was last Sunday as the end result of a culling process whereby the bad or evil are cast away and the good endure. Last week, it was the weeds of the field being burned up in the furnace, here it is the bad fish.

Hell is something often difficult to talk about in the church in large part because we have a bad habit of making two false assumptions about it. One is that hell is always something far away. It’s the place of punishment that we might go after we die if somehow we’re not right with God and we have all the time between now and then to ensure we avoid it. In my experience, however, hell isn’t always so remote.

I was reading an article earlier this week on the internet. There’s been a lot of hubbub about the capture of Radovan Karadzic who was one of the war criminals from the civil war that tore the former nation of Yugoslavia apart about ten years ago. Remember Bosnia, Serbia, and all that when Clinton was president? This article was about what life was like under Karadzic’s iron thumb and it was told from the perspective of a woman in Sarajevo. Karadzic’s soldiers came, took her prisoner from her own home, beat her, raped her, did the same with members of her family, and did this every day for several years. Hell on earth? I should think so.

And I also think about our soldiers over in Iraq and Afghanistan, facing enemy fire every day, being wounded, watching their friends wounded or killed, never knowing if the people you encounter on the streets are ordinary folk just trying to live their lives or the enemy out to get you. A tour in Iraq is 12 to 15 months now, and our boys have to endure this every day of those long months. It’s no wonder so many of them come home wounded in mind as well as body. This is definitely hell on earth, as I’m sure any of our veterans who have been in combat can attest.

But even we, far from the horrors of atrocity and war, can experience hell on earth also. When we stand by and watch as a loved one, a parent, a spouse, a child, succumbs to some horrible disease, cancer or Alzheimer’s or whatever, that’s hell. When our marriages and relationships disintegrate and the person we once loved looks upon us with eyes of hate that can be hell. When that pink slip arrives, and suddenly we don’t know where the money to put food on our family’s table or a roof over their heads is going to come from, that too can be hell. Hell isn’t always far away. Sometimes it’s right here. Sometimes it’s right now. Hell here on earth is a reality for many people, maybe even some of us.

Our second error is that so often we presume that when such horrors arise in our lives, when our nightmares come to pass, that somehow have earned this as punishment. That we’re to blame somehow for these terrible things.

The pastor who confirmed me at my home congregation many years ago had the nightmare of watching his daughter succumb to cancer, and I remember him talking about how it was his fault. That he didn’t pray hard enough, or believe enough. But that’s not true. It wasn’t true for him and it’s not true for us. When we hear the words of our Scripture lessons for today, we realize how false that is. The words of Paul where he talks about how no matter what happens to us, God will always love us. And then, the other parables that Jesus tells, that remind us that even the smallest faith can do wonders.

It is good for us to remember this, because what allows us to endure the unendurable, to bear the unbearable, and to survive the unsurvivable is that faith. And it may not be much, maybe just a mustard seed’s worth, but look at what grows from it. And just as a little yeast can leaven so much flour, so too can our faith do the impossible. It can allow us to survive hell on earth in all the forms that it takes.

Faith that remembers that no matter what nightmares come our way, no matter what life throws at us, we never face anything alone. God promises his presence in the midst of our lives, and even when the chips are down, he is still there giving strength, comfort, and perhaps most importantly hope. Hope that this too shall pass and that we will emerge on the other side.

The woman beaten and raped as a prisoner in Sarajevo credits her survival to God, and while she still struggles with the trauma of her experience, she believes that God kept her alive for a purpose. That’s faith. And look here in our very midst, among our friends and neighbors in these very pews. There are stories here of how faith has brought us through the fire. There have been moments of weeping and teeth gnashing here, but God has seen us through.

When we have endured such things, we understand well what Jesus is teaching in these parables. Not only about the power of faith, so small and yet can do so much, but also about the value of faith. The treasure beyond price that it truly is. For only this treasure can allow us to endure the unendurable, to bear the unbearable, and to do the impossible.

Let hell do its worst. We have faith in a God that never forsakes us, never abandons us, and He will see us through, no matter what happens. Amen.