Historian, Douglas Brinkley, writes: “Usually, one day in a century rises above the others as an accepted turning point or historic milestone. It becomes the climactic day, or 'the day,' of that century.” Quite honestly, I beg to differ with him as I think about all we have experienced in the past twenty years. 9/11 was a huge turning point for our country. This pandemic has been a history making event on multiple levels. January 6th of this year, another day that will be remembered in infamy, marks what is sure to be another turning point in our country. And, I have a feeling there will be more turning points on the horizon before this century comes to an end, points in time that will bring about major change and cause us to move in different directions. Turning points cause global change, change within an entire culture or, if the turning point is in one’s own life, it can cause us as individuals to change the direction we are going. I know this because I have experienced personal turning points in life and the fact that I am here today is the result of some of those turning points.
In today’s readings, we find people facing life-changing turning points. In our reading from Genesis, God establishes a covenant with Abram and tells him he will be the father of many nations, even though Abram is already ninety-nine years old and does not yet have children. Now, think about it. What a surprise! As my friend says, “Old Abe was more ready for the nursing home than the maternity ward.” Yet, God makes it clear to Abram and Sarai that they will become parents. This is truly a turning point, and God marks this event by giving them new names. God says your names shall now be Abraham and Sarah; for I have made you the ancestors of a multitude of nations. This truly was a life-changing experience for them, and a turning point for the world because God’s faithful, everlasting covenant with Abraham’s descendents is established.
Today, we also come to a turning point in the gospel of Mark. In fact, it is the central turning point in Mark’s gospel. Just before today’s reading, Jesus has asked the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” In response, impetuous Peter gets all excited and professes that Jesus is indeed the long-promised Messiah. And now, Jesus immediately begins to tell his disciples what being the Messiah is all about, what his ministry will look like. He says, “It is necessary that the Son of Man proceed to an ordeal of suffering, be tried and found guilty by the elders, high priests, and religious scholars, be killed, and after three days rise up alive.” Well, Jesus’ words to the disciples are devastating. His words shatter and obliterate the disciples’ preconceived notions of everything they expected a coming Messiah would do. So, as reactive Peter hears this, he immediately backs away and rebukes Jesus. Jesus’ words simply destroy the glamor of following this long-expected Messiah. This is certainly not the kind of life Peter wants to undertake. While Jesus seems to be the Messiah, the Jewish people had never expected a leader who must suffer and die. That was simply ludicrous and irrational. Who in their right mind chooses to “proceed to an ordeal of suffering” as Jesus says he is doing? And, who in their right mind wants to even follow a leader who is on his way to die? This comes as a complete surprise. Nothing they have experienced has prepared them for Jesus to say he will suffer and die. And, what is even more appalling is that Jesus is telling them if they want to be his disciples, they must deny themselves and take up their crosses and follow him! No, this is NOT what they had hoped for.
Now, lest we judge Peter too quickly, we need to take a serious look at ourselves. Jesus’ words are just as hard for us to hear. You see, most of us choose religion and come to believe important things deeply because we feel they are good for us. We like a religion that makes us feel good. We like a faith that fits our comfortable, recreational lifestyles. We like a faith that makes us feel happy, loved, at peace, and free from the challenges of life around us. In other words, we want a religion that will make us healthy, wealthy and wise. We want to follow a strong God who “heals our illnesses, provides ample prosperity, guarantees security, and urges our sports teams on to victory.” (David Lose) Suffering does not fit into that plan. Quite honestly, if any one of us is offered a life of suffering versus a life free from suffering, you can be your bottom dollar, we will choose the one that is pain free! Yet, this is where we must get very honest about the Christian life. Christianity is not about living an easier life, living a life free from pain, or believing in a God we can turn to as our personal Santa Claus to help solve life’s problems and give us all we want. Quite frankly, following Jesus is often going to make our lives more complicated and challenging.
Jesus’ words to his disciples are hard and his way extreme. The disciples had thought the Messiah would offer security, protection, and make Israel great again! But, now Peter and the other disciples are learning that faith in Jesus is not about the elimination of risks, the preservation of life, or the ability to control. Instead, Jesus asks Peter and each one of us to risk it all, abandon our lives, and relinquish control to God. That is what Jesus is doing and he expects nothing less of those who would follow him.
The way of Christ is the way of self-denial, and it is a way that reminds us our life is not our own. Our very lives belong to God. The way of Christ reminds us that we are not in control, God is. Our life is not about us. It is about God. There is great freedom in knowing and living this truth, freedom to be fully alive. Through living Christ’s way of self-denial, our falling down becomes rising up, losing becomes a way of saving, and death leads to resurrection.
As long as we believe our life is about us we will continue to exercise power over others, try to save ourselves, control our circumstances, and maybe even rebuke Jesus. Jesus rarely exercised power over others or tried to control circumstances. He simply made different choices. And, for followers of Jesus, discipleship is about the choices we make.
Jesus chose to give in a world that takes, to love in a world that hates, to heal in a world that injures, to give life in a world that kills. He offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent. He trusted God’s abundance when others said there was not enough. With each choice he denied himself and showed God was present.
At some point, these kinds of choices will catch the attention of, and quite likely offend, those who live and profit by power, control, and looking out for number one. People who are offended will not deny themselves. They will react. Jesus said they would. He knew that he would be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes. It happens in every age for those who choose the path of self-denial. When it happened for Jesus, he made one last choice. He chose the cross and resurrection over survival.
Every day of our lives we face choices, and some of those choices are real turning points. In today’s reading, Jesus says to each of us, “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat, I am. Don’t run from suffering, embrace it. If any of you want to follow me, you must deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?” (The Message)
The point at which Jesus says this to his disciples is the turning point in Mark’s telling of the Jesus story, and it is the turning point for each of us in our life of faith. The words Jesus speaks to us today present THE big defining choice for every Christian. “If any of you want to follow me, you must deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me....”
As happens every year on this first Sunday in Lent, we begin our forty-day Lenten journey and we encounter Jesus experiencing forty days in the desert. In Mark’s telling of the story, we find Jesus is driven or pushed into the wilderness. The gospel writer tells us Jesus has just been baptized by John, an experience in which he saw the sky violently split open and God’s Spirit descend upon him in the form of a gentle dove. He has just heard God’s voice say to him, “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love. You are the pride of my life.” Then, immediately following this experience, the same Spirit that descended upon him as a gentle dove, turns into a dive bomber or mac truck and pushes Jesus out into the wild. We are not given any hint or clue that Jesus chose to do this of his own volition. The writer of Mark’s gospel makes it clear that Jesus was forcefully driven into the wilderness by the Spirit, pushed there by something outside of himself.
Now, the wilderness is not a safe place. It is a treacherous, wild place with tricky, barren terrain. It is a place where one experiences the burning rays of the beating sun, the hungry wolves and wild beasts, and something many of us do not like to face – solitude. We can probably surmise that, like most of us, when Jesus faced solitude, he faced his own inner voices.
Mark tells us that, having been driven into the wilderness, Jesus was tempted or tested by Satan. Jesus did not choose to go into the wilderness, and he did not choose to be tempted. Beyond this, Mark simply does not give us many details about Jesus’ forty-day experience. Unlike the other gospels, we are not given any scripted arguments between Jesus and Satan and no details about hunger for food or power. All we are told is that Jesus was in the wilderness for forty days, was tempted by Satan, was with the wild beasts and the angels waited on him. Yes, the angels took care of him. God’s presence was there for him and with him throughout that forty-day experience. And, as we begin our forty-day Lenten journey, we remember Jesus’ experience and we are given the promise that God is with us as we face our own challenges in the wilderness experiences of our lives.
The wilderness or the desert is not only a physical, geographical place. It is also a spiritual place where we find multiple spots to engage in self-examination, struggle, and repentance. It is a place where we often discover we must face ourselves. And, the wilderness is not a place where we eagerly volunteer to go. Quite frankly, we do not choose to experience times of temptation, struggle, sorrow, or pain, let alone deep self-examination. We do not go out actively seeking challenging situations or hardships. Now, I do not for one minute believe that God causes us to experience hardship or suffering in life. I do not believe that God causes us any kind of misery to teach us a lesson or punish us in any way. That is not the kind of loving God Jesus proclaims. Yet, we do face times of struggle, trial, and misery. In fact, for many of us, this past year of living through a pandemic has been such an experience. However, just as God was present to Jesus during those trying forty days, God is present to us in all of our challenges in life. God is present with us and to us in those times when a marriage comes to an end, those times when we find our children struggling, those times when a loved one dies, those times when a loved one struggles with addiction, those times when we lose a job, those times of hardship when we cannot sense a glimmer of hope, those times when we as a nation and as a global community live through a ravaging pandemic that brings enormous death and sorrow, those times when our experience seems void of the presence of God. God is there, present to us in all the struggles and temptations we face, in all of the chaos and pain. And, God is at work in the depth of those experiences, transforming them, bringing order out of chaos and bringing forth newness and life.
As we intentionally take time for reflection and repentance during this Lenten season, we begin in the wilderness. Lent can be a time to take stock in our lives, and to really begin to come clean about those things that tempt us. The wilderness is a place where we can let go of all pretense and allow ourselves to be honest and vulnerable. This wilderness experience can allow us to take a real look at the way we try to hide our pain, take a look at the perfectionism that plagues us, the competitive nature that drives us, the denial that is epidemic within us and around us, and take a look at the way our brokenness shapes our entire being and way of life. This wilderness can be a place where we find the freedom to confess the messiness of our lives. And, the truth of the matter is, the wilderness experience is not just a Lenten experience. Whether we like it or not, the wilderness is the place where we live out our lives.
When I was young, a time that increasingly seems to have been long, long ago in some far away place, I used to love watching MASH. Those of you who watched that show might remember one episode where Father Mulcahy, the unit’s priest, tried to talk with a wounded soldier who had been severely traumatized by what he witnessed on the front lines of war. When this soldier finds out Father Mulcahy had not once even been close to where the fighting was taking place, the soldier decides they just cannot talk. You see, he had no interest in hearing the pious platitudes of a person who had not been on the front lines, so he felt he could not begin to relate to the priest. Later in the episode, after Father Mulcahy does come under enemy fire and is forced to perform an emergency medical procedure on a different soldier, even as shells are exploding all around him, the first soldier then welcomes Father Mulcahy after all. Now they have a common frame of reference, and now they can talk. And, it is then that Father Mulcahy gets it and understands why the soldier had not been able to relate to him.
In the person of Jesus, God has entered the front lines of our human existence. In the person of Jesus, God has already been in the wilderness. In the person of Jesus, God has entered into the wilderness of our lives and engaged the sharp, jagged edges of this broken, sorrow filled world. God does walk with us through all our experiences in the wild. Jesus walks with each one of us through the front lines of our lives. As he walks with us in the wilderness, we discover we can let go of the sinful, false self, be honest and vulnerable, and entrust our messy, broken, mixed up lives to God. And, guess what? It is then that we finally discover our true selves. Then, we really discover what the grace of God is like. Then, we begin to discover more deeply what it means to be named as God’s beloved child, to be made God’s very own. Then, we begin to discover more deeply that our entire life is enveloped and bathed in God’s grace. And, then we begin to discover how immeasurably we are loved by the God of all creation.
If you missed Ash Wednesday service this year, listen in to re-connect and re-center.
This past week, I have been very aware of the way pandemic fatigue is increasingly becoming an ordinary aspect of daily life. The endless number of Zoom meetings, the isolation, the ordering of groceries online, the lack of being able to see people’s faces in person, our collective deep brokenness as people, and the sadness and yearning I feel as I want to be with our kids and grandkids, all are increasingly becoming a darkened scar on our lives. In some ways, the light of hope just seems dimmed, and we cannot clearly see what is real. As we live in this pandemic bubble of constraints, the daily challenges sometimes are like a dark veil that covers up what is truly important and what is truly real. Laden by what has become an ordinariness of pandemic routine, we often do not see the deeper truth and reality of God’s presence with us, the immeasurable love in which God holds us, the Love that dances at the very heart of existence.
Quite frankly, most people seem to think God is out there somewhere. Maybe way up there, but far removed from our everyday experience. And, far too often, religion teaches that we should seek out the presence of God. However, the reality is that we cannot seek out God’s presence, we cannot earn God’s presence to us, we cannot prove ourselves worthy of God’s presence, nor can we do anything to prohibit God’s presence to us. The deepest truth given to us in today’s gospel reading is that we are totally and completely enveloped in the presence of God and God’s immeasurable love. That is what is truly real. Yet, those moments of transparency that enable us to see more clearly seem few and infrequent. New Testament scholar, N.T. Wright, describes those moments as points in time when “the veil of ordinariness that normally prevents us from seeing the ‘inside’ of a situation is drawn back, and a fuller reality is disclosed.”
As we look at today’s gospel reading, Peter, James, and John experience such a moment when that veil is drawn back. When looking at this gospel passage, we should understand this is a story. We should let go of our need for facts and allow a more profound truth to speak as the veil is drawn back so we can see a deeper truth, a fuller reality.
In this gospel reading, Jesus is transfigured and three of Jesus’ disciples get a glimpse of how things really are, what is truly real. Listen to the beautiful poetic narrative of this experience as described in a sonnet by English writer, poet, and priest, Malcolm Guite:
For that one moment, ‘in and out of time,’
On that one mountain where all moments meet,
The daily veil that covers the sublime
In darkling glass fell dazzled at his feet.
There were no angels full of eyes and wings
Just living glory full of truth and grace.
The Love that dances at the heart of things
Shone out upon us from a human face
And to that light the light in us leaped up,
We felt it quicken somewhere deep within,
A sudden blaze of long-extinguished hope
Trembled and tingled through the tender skin.
Nor can this blackened sky, this darkened scar
Eclipse that glimpse of how things really are.
In that experience on the mountain, the disciples saw Jesus in a moment of transparency that transformed everything. Yes, it was a moment when the Love that dances at the very heart of things shone out upon them from a human face. In that moment of transfiguration what the disciples glimpsed was their rabbi, friend and teacher, Jesus, so in alignment with the love of the one who created us ALL in love and then called us to walk in love with each other, that he was transformed – transfigured – in front of their awestruck eyes. And, they heard a voice speak the same words that had been spoken at the Jordan River when Jesus was baptized by John: “This is my son, the Beloved. Listen to him.” In that moment in time, the disciples were enveloped by the immeasurable love of God. They were shown God’s love as seen in the very face of Jesus. And, they were told to listen to Love.
On this fourteenth day of February, a day culture sets aside to celebrate human love, it is also important to think about the nature of divine love, the belovedness seen in the person of Jesus. It is important to think about Jesus as God’s beloved, about the fact that God calls each one of us beloved, and the reality that we are called to live and walk in that love.
I think far too often, we simply fail to recognize that God calls us beloved. And, the consequence of this is lack of recognition is that we then fail to recognize that every other person is also beloved of God! Also, far too often, we are tempted to take the experience of God’s transforming love and try to contain it, hold on to it and keep it, and box it up in dogma, creed, doctrine, rubric, order, construct, book…..or even a booth, just like clueless Peter. Yes, clueless Peter. He is so like us and he fell right into the same temptation we fall into as he says, “Let us build some booths.” And, what happens when Peter says that? The voice of God interrupts, essentially saying, “This is not about building booths, Peter. This is about my Beloved. Listen to him.”
Friends, like Peter, we too must listen as we live our lives. Listen to Jesus. Listen to Jesus’ words, the life he shared and the way he lived, his ministry, the way he healed people, liberated people, and set them free. Listen to the part about liberation to the oppressed. Good news to the poor. Sight to the blind. Listen to the part about love your neighbor as yourself. Listen, and live that love!
Well, down the mountain they went to proclaim the Good News of God’s astounding love to a world desperately in need of love, a world so desperately in need that it could not handle the message. The world could not handle such an immeasurable, divine love, so it nailed that Love to a cross. But, here is the thing about divine Love: not even death can hold it down, keep it contained or buried. Love was resurrected and that love continually brings forth life. That love gives us life, heals us, sets us free and resurrects us. And, we are called to live this love. We, too, are called to go out into a world that is veiled in the ordinariness of life, a world yearning for a glimpse of how things really are. We are called to go out into the world to pull back the veil of darkness, of violence, oppression, division, disease, of separation that keeps all of us from living in love, and the veil that keeps the human race from being the human family God intended it to be. We are called to live in such a way that the veil of darkness is drawn back, and the more sublime, deeper truth of life can be revealed.
Friends, as we gather each week, we gather so that we, too, might be changed by our glimpse of how things really are. We gather so that we might be transfigured into radical bearers of the light of God’s inclusive love. We gather so that we can then go out into a world that desperately needs that light and that love. We gather so that we can remember how much we are loved and then be sent down off the mountain in response to God’s love, not to build booths or write creeds or dictate dogmas, but to do the work of justice. To love mercy. And to walk humbly with the God who created us in love and then called us to love one another, until:
Friends, this week we will walk through the doorway into Lent and journey to the cross, that place of transforming Love. In the cross we discover God’s transformational love unveiled for the life of the world. Be open to become changed, be open to be transformed, be open to be made new, and be open to truly live the love of God!
Last Tuesday evening, I watched the service for Officer Brian Sicknick who was killed in the attack on our capitol on January 6th. It made me again do some critical thinking about the personal and national crises we as a people are experiencing in our present culture. We are facing this horrific pandemic, enormous pain and grief, loneliness, political unrest, racism, threats due to growing militias and white supremacist movements, and far too many people getting drawn into rabbit holes of conspiracy theories and lies. As I think about these challenges and our profound brokenness as people, my heart truly breaks. I mourn our deep brokenness. During dark times of challenge, it often seems that we as a people do not always remember God’s presence in our lives. And, quite frankly, we may ask, “Where is God; has God abandoned us? Who are we as a people?” Therefore, today’s scripture readings are again so life-giving.
The words we hear in today’s reading from Isaiah were written after the Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple. After one of the most horrific moments in Jewish history, the people are living in exile. They have experienced personal and national crises and their memory of God’s presence to them has diminished. They do not remember God’s promises to them. Their biggest questions are, “Has God abandoned us? Are the Babylonian gods greater than our God? And who are we now as a people?” In today’s reading, Isaiah repeats the rhetorical questions, “Have you not known? Have you not heard?” And, the answer he ultimately gives is that God has always been with the people, giving strength to the powerless and power to faint. During difficult times, Isaiah inspires the people to trust in something bigger than their present circumstances. God is present with them in their pain, and they can be present to and with one another.
Often, in times of crisis when we are suffering, we too forget the awesome power of God. Like the people who were in exile, this virus has tested our memory of God’s presence to us. Because of the hardships and suffering many have faced, we collectively as a people may have forgotten what God has done for us. Isaiah’s questions can and should still be asked of us today, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? God is with us!” When crisis causes us to have short memories, Isaiah’s words remind us that God has been here since before the beginning of the world and God is the one who has been and continues to be fully in control. In a time when many feel and face despair and hopelessness, Isaiah’s words speak directly to our fears saying, “God is the creator of heaven and earth, large and vast beyond our imagining and God does not grow faint or weary. If you feel faint and powerless, God will give to you power and strength. And, as you wait for the Lord, you are like a molting eagle. God will give you strength and new wings that will lift you up. God will raise you up to life.” Isaiah assures us of God’s tender and empowering care.
As we look at our gospel reading, Jesus enters a place where he finds hopelessness and powerlessness. If you remember last week’s gospel, Jesus had just been teaching in the synagogue. While there, he was rudely interrupted by a man possessed with an “unclean spirit.” Jesus had then ordered the unclean spirit to leave this man and the man was healed. It was Jesus’ first miracle in the gospel of Mark. And, it was an action that was all about healing and hope, empowering and enabling that man to again be restored to life and full participation within the life of community.
This morning, we find the gospel writer continuing this narrative by connecting that story to what we have as today’s gospel reading. Jesus leaves the synagogue and he “immediately” goes to Simon’s house where he finds Simon’s mother-in-law sick with a fever. It is still the same day, the same Sabbath, only a matter of hours later, and we find Jesus again giving life by healing Simon’s mother-in-law. He walks over, touches her, then he takes her by the hand and lifts her up, or “raises her up.” The Greek word Mark uses for “lifted up” or “raised up” is the same word Mark uses to tell of Jesus being lifted up on a cross. And, it is the same word used in the gospel narrative describing Easter morning when we hear the words “He is not here, he is risen!” This is not coincidence. Simon Peter’s mother-in-law is raised up from her illness. And, what does she begin to do? She gets up from her bed and begins to feed people. She begins to serve, to minister to others. Healed from her illness, she begins to live into a sense of purpose, a sense of vocation. This woman who has been touched and healed by Jesus becomes the first active witness to what a healed and resurrected life in Jesus looks like.
Healing, deliverance from pain and illness, and setting people free are the hallmarks of that great prophetic dream called the Reign of God. Isaiah and the prophets articulated the dream of God and it is expressed in one way or another as it is threaded throughout the entirety of scripture. Yet, the people had to always be reminded of that dream and we need to be reminded of God’s dream. The dream of God is always describing a reality where no one goes hungry, the ill and grieving are healed, and those in various kinds of prisons are set free to live abundant life, life that truly matters. Over and over, we hear that Jesus “went about healing many who were sick or possessed by demons.” Healing and setting people free were foundational to Jesus’ ministry. And, healing and setting people free are foundational to the ministry we share as members of the body of Christ. This image of healing and setting people free is something we share because, in baptism, we too have been raised to new life. We too have been set free. We too have been raised to live life that truly matters and live into the ministry of serving others.
We live in a world that is desperate for healing. The need in this world is so great. And, friends, God’s healing, life giving presence is closer to us than the air we breathe. As we live together, participating in the community of faith, we live into God’s healing, gracious love. Gerald May was a medical doctor who practiced psychotherapy in Washington, D.C. He wrote of the importance of community in the healing process. He writes:
God’s grace through community involves something far greater than other people’s support and perspective. The power of grace is nowhere as brilliant nor as mystical as in communities of faith. Its power includes not just love that comes from people and through people but love that pours forth among people, as if through the very spaces between one person and next. Just to be in such an atmosphere is to be bathed in healing power. (Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace, 173.)
Friends, the good news to us in the depth of our present circumstances is this: Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? God is with us! In the person of Jesus, God comes to us in the depth of our circumstances, renews our strength, brings healing. God raises us up to serve others and to serve the greater community as we continue to live into the dream of God for this world, as we carry God’s healing presence in this world. And, we are doing just that! As our Caring Committee continues their outstanding work connecting to members and others in the community, we carry the good news message that God IS present to us and continues to be present to us and all others. As we begin some new food pantry projects, we carry God’s message of healing love to others by connecting to people in the depth of their need. And, as we continue the reconciling work of caring for our neighbor and living out God’s love in this community, God will continue to raise us up to a new life of hope, just as Jesus did to Simon’s mother-in-law. God is raising us up, lifting us up so we can live lives of service to others and bear God’s creative and life-giving, redeeming love in this world. And that love, my friends, is what truly will transform the deep brokenness and challenges of this present time.