Sunday, February 22, 2015

Taking Time




A Sermon preached on February 22nd, Lent I, at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Genesis 9:8-17, 1 Peter 3:18-22, Mark 1:9-15


Did you have the feeling that you have heard this morning's Gospel reading before? And I don't just mean three years ago when we last used Mark’s Gospel on Sundays as part of our lectionary cycle, but much more recently?  Well you did, you heard most of it in January. The first paragraph, about Jesus’ Baptism, was part of our Gospel reading on the first Sunday after the Epiphany, January 11, and the last paragraph was part of our Gospel reading only two weeks later, on January 25th. I think the reason the lectionary compilers gave us these two paragraphs, despite the repetition, is because in Mark’s Gospel the descriptions of the events of Jesus’ life and ministry are always very short and so they must have thought that just reading the one paragraph – of only two sentences - about Jesus temptation would be too short – hardly worth me processing down for!

You see on this first Sunday in Lent we always have one of the three versions of the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness either from Matthew, Mark or Luke. It is after all the main story behind the 40 days of Lent, this period of prayer, reflection and often fasting – in the West mostly symbolically – until Easter. Yet there is so much contained in these two lines; so much to reflect on that we really don’t need the two extra paragraphs. Mark is so economical with words – unlike Paul – that we must assume that the few details he provides are important. Why was Jesus driven by the Spirit into the wilderness? Why was he there for 40 days? How was he tempted? And what’s with the wild beasts and the angels?

“And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness.” (Mark 1:12) Mark’s Jesus is always in a hurry. In Matthew and Luke Jesus is led by the spirit, which sounds much more sedate than being driven. Yet in all three cases Jesus needs this time after his public commissioning at his Baptism and before his ministry begins. It would be a mistake to leave out this time of testing and preparation and so the same Spirit that has just descended on him at his Baptism like a dove drives him out. The road Jesus will have to follow in his ministry will be difficult. He will be misunderstood, he will suffer and there will be failures, at least they will look like failures, when his own people condemn him, his disciples desert him, and his mission seems to end with his death on the Cross. So this time in the dry and dusty wilderness is a time of testing – not a pass/fail test, more like a test drive: a way for Jesus to get used to and ready for what is ahead of him. 

And we need times like this too. The Episcopal Monastic Society of St. John the Evangelist (SSJE) provides a series of Lenten reflections each year. This season they focus on time. “Time is a gift from God,” they write, “but very often we experience it as something that brings stress and an anxiety into our life.” And so in the first week they focus just on stopping. “There are certain times when we’re called to stop what we’re doing, to rest or to reflect.”[1] Sometimes God wants us to wait – and we don’t – and so there will be times when God forces that waiting period on us just as the Spirit forced Jesus into the wilderness. This applies both to us as individuals and as a community. If something seems to stop us and make us wait before we can move on to what we think is important and urgent, then perhaps that is God’s Spirit driving us in to some sort of wilderness time too. “Above all, trust in the slow work of God” is the first line of a poetic prayer by the Jesuit priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin that I quoted from at the AGM. It ends with the lines: “Accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete.”[2]  

After all the 40 days in the wilderness are not the first time that someone has had to wait for a long time in the Bible. Noah and his family had a long wait – either 40 days and nights or even 150 days – we actually have two slightly different flood stories in the Bible – before the flood was over, the waters had receded, they could leave the ark to “be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth” again. (Genesis 9:1) With all those animals to feed – nor forgetting the noise and the smells – I bet he would have preferred a shorter period. But Noah had to be prepared for his role in God’s plan and covenant. Likewise the Israelites had to spend 40 years in the wilderness before they were ready for the Promised Land and the prophet Elijah also needed 40 days in the wilderness before he was allowed to encounter the Lord and was sent back to complete his mission. These are all examples we are supposed to think of when we hear that Jesus “was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan.” (Mark 1:13a)

How was he tempted? Mark doesn’t tell us, just that he was tempted. The other gospel authors provide us with more detail. We hear how he wrestles with the forces that work against the will of God. We see Satan tempting him to become more than human, to use his divine powers for himself; for his own gain or advantage. But Jesus resists this. Whenever Jesus uses his divine powers it is always for others, to save people, to heal them, out of compassion and the loving-kindness he embodies. And especially in Mark’s Gospel it is almost always associated with a command not to tell anyone, to keep it a secret. Jesus does not want to draw attention to himself. It is his message and one who sent him that are important. Jesus’ experience in the desert deepens his humanity and strengthens his humility. Our wilderness experiences, and our time of reflection in Lent should serve the same purpose: to become better humans, to practice humility, to focus on Jesus, the one we follow and to get ready to implement Christ’s agenda for us and the world, rather than our own agenda for others.

“He was with the wild beasts.” (1:13b) Are the wild beasts supposed to be threatening? I don’t think so. Jesus was with them because as God they are also part of his Creation and part of what he came to renew and redeem. Look at the Genesis reading we heard from this morning: “Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you.” (Genesis 9:8-10) God is not just interested in humans! But I think the wild beasts have another message for us. The American poet and farmer Wendell Berry, who I know of because he received an award from my seminary, wrote a poem called the “Peace of Wild Things:”
“When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
Rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.”[3]
Like Jesus’ birds of the air and lilies of the field (Matthew 6:26, 28) they are a reminder to us that at times we must just trust God and be as unconcerned and as without worry as the wild things. The angels who waited on Jesus did not keep Jesus from being tested, but they are an assurance that the Father was watching over him, was with him, was loving him just as God watches over and loves us too.

As is only to be expected from Mark’s Jesus, at the end of the 40 days Jesus comes out running and ready to proclaim the good news of God and God’s kingdom. He is tested and prepared, more fully human, and completely focused on his mission. I pray that we too will come out of Lent more ready than ever to proclaim the good news of God – the good news from God and the good news about God that we experience in Jesus Christ. Amen.


[1] http://ssje.org/ssje/time/
[2] http://www.ignatianspirituality.com/8078/prayer-of-theilhard-de-chardin/
[3] Wendell Berry, "The Peace of Wild Things" from The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

What sign is this?




A Sermon preached on February 18th, Ash Wednesday, at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Isaiah 58:1-12, 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10, Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21


There’s something strange about the Ash Wednesday liturgy. We seem to do the opposite of what the readings appointed for the day tell us to do, rather like celebrating Easter Day with the Good Friday readings. According to Isaiah, " Such fasting as you do today,” such as bowing down the head like a bulrush, and lying in sackcloth and ashes, “will not make your voice heard on high.” (58:5) And Jesus tells us that “whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (Matthew 6:16-18) Having a cross marked on your forehead with ashes is not exactly a secret is it? So why do we celebrate Ash Wednesday this way?

Our Presiding Bishop. Katherine Jefferts-Schori, offers us one explanation in her annual Lenten message. She said that “the cross that comes on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday is a reminder of the cross that’s put there at Baptism.  You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”[1]
So what is this Baptismal sign meant to remind us of exactly? For one thing that we are mortal, that we are dust and to dust we shall return. We are baptized into Christ’s death and becoming Christ’s own is dangerous and can even be the cause of death. Too often we forget that the cross, especially in its more decorative forms, is a symbol of an instrument of torture and execution. And the ashes we use in this liturgy are made by burning last year’s palm crosses – themselves a reminder of how quickly Jesus’ death followed his triumphal entry into Jerusalem and how quickly the same people who cried Hosanna, were ready to shout out “crucify him” instead. The 21 Coptic Christians recently massacred by the so-called Islamic State died because of the Cross of Baptism on their foreheads, they died as witnesses – or martyrs – to Christ. But they still died in hope. Whether our death is untimely and cruel, which we all pray will not be the case, or peaceful and in due course, the promise of Baptism is that by sharing in Christ’s death we also share in his glorious resurrection. 

The second thing the sign of the cross also reminds us of, is what we promised at our Baptism:  To continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers. To persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord. To proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. To seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self, and to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being. This we promised to do every day and all day – but we can and should still put a particular focus on these promised during the 40 days of Lent.

Coming back to the Presiding Bishop’s Lenten message: “Lent is an ancient tradition of solidarity and preparation for those who look forward to Baptism at the Easter Vigil.  It has always been a time for prayer and study, fasting, self-denial, and alms-giving, sharing what we have with those who do not have.  Prayer is an opportunity to reflect on who walks with us in the desert, who brings light into the world. Study is an opportunity to do the same kinds of things looking at the history of our tradition, where have human beings found light and direction in their journey through this world.  Fasting and self-denial are an inward-reflection on what it is that keeps us in the dark, or what it is that keeps us directionless, or that keeps us overly self-focused.  And it becomes an invitation to turn outward and share what we have with those who have not.”

Turning outward and sharing is, as Isaiah also reminds us, not an option. To fast and to neglect the poor perverts religion and ritual. The fast that God chooses is “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke. Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?” (58:6-7)

These are true and sincere acts of piety. We pray and fast and give alms not for our glory or reward, but out of gratitude to God for the gift of new life through his Son given to us in Baptism - out of joyful obedience. The treasures we store up in heaven and in our hearts, because they should be the same place, are righteousness, loving-kindness, generosity, and peace. The forty days of Lent are our chance to focus on filling our heart with these treasures. That will bring us joy and will be a source of joy for our God. And what greater reward can there be than the joy and love of God?
Amen.



[1] http://www.episcopalchurch.org/posts/publicaffairs/episcopal-presiding-bishop-katharine-jefferts-schori-lent-message-2015