Signs of a New Life
We enter the month of March just four days after the beginning of the Season of Lent. The ancient season of austerity is based on Jesus’ forty-day fast in preparation for his public ministry. The early church used the forty days prior to the Easter celebration to prepare candidates for baptism and to call the faithful to commitment and renewal. The traditional practices of Lent — study, prayer, self-discipline, and charity — are calls to repentance that will make way for a new life. Lent operates on the assumption that the faithful want a new life, an assumption that is becoming harder to justify with each passing spring.
The preacher may look out at a congregation that has come searching for an affirmation of what they already think. Many may be there after shopping at several churches for one that will meet predetermined criteria. To the extent that self-denial and charity are embraced at all, they may be understood as a way to self-realization. The preacher is faced with the challenge of proclaiming that the Good News is not an amplification of the life people already have. Instead, there is an opportunity to offer a profound gift — the news that life is more than we are capable of making it.
Lent is not just one more self-help program. This holy season is an ancient attempt to convince the faithful that self-help is not particularly helpful. Help is from God.
The lectionary for this month directs us to highly visible signs of God’s activity. The Hebrew Scriptures for the Sundays in March offer other observable tokens beyond verbal assurances. On the First Sunday in Lent, God promises a rainbow—a spectacular display in the sky that will remind both Creator and creature of God’s will to preserve humanity. On the Second Sunday in Lent, we hear that God changes the names of Abram and Sarai to Abraham and Sarah—new names to call people with new lives. The Third Sunday in Lent records Ten Commandments that are a perceptible gift to guide the newly liberated slaves. The Fourth Sunday in Lent brings the story of a monument of healing. God instructed Moses to make a figure of a serpent and put it on a pole to counteract the judgment of poisonous snakes that God had sent before.
These five tangible signs — a cross of ashes, a rainbow, new names, tablets of the law, and a healing brass serpent — are all gifts from God for people who are ready to change and celebrate a new life.
First Sunday in Lent
March 1, 2009
Genesis 9:8–17; Psalm 25:1–10; 1 Peter 3:18–2; Mark 1:9–15
The readings from Genesis and Mark both take place in the circumstances of a forty-day crisis resulting in a new beginning. The promise that God makes to Noah in the first lesson comes after a great flood — caused by forty days of rain. God says, “I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” God does nothing less than announce a change in how he will deal with humanity. The sign God gives to seal the promise is a rainbow. After the horrific flood, God implied that his wrath had been too much and he gave himself a reminder not to do it again. Since then, the rainbow has become a perennial fixture on gift mugs and inspirational posters. The rainbow is a spectacular event, but it has been domesticated to the point of insignificance. What we use to decorate nursery walls is God’s attempt to constrain his wrath. God gives Noah a unilateral promise of divine grace. A merciful God is an overpowering word of life — but we tend to trivialize this seismic shift in creation as facilely as we do the rainbow that symbolizes it. Grace, as always, calls us beyond our own comfort into the hazards of serving God’s world.
In the gospel reading, Mark tells us of Jesus’ baptism and his forty-day sojourn in the wilderness where he was “tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” In this case, the forty-day trial comes directly after Jesus’ baptism, and it results in Jesus’ ministry. The very next verse tells us that Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news. Clearly, a forty-day fast is not a destination. It begins all sorts of things.
The first words of Jesus in Mark’s Gospel are recorded here: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” But even this translation may be too destination-oriented. Mark Allan Powell, in his book Fortress Introduction to the Gospels, points out that “kingdom” is not a cognate noun, a noun that can be used as a verb. Powell suggests that a better translation would be “the reign of God has come near.” Jesus ushers in God’s activity, and God’s plans will be carried out in the deeds of Jesus. The forty-day fast is not just a task to be accomplished; it inaugurates a new way of living by the rule of God.
Pilgrims on their Lenten journey do not place their hope in a desire for a restful life lived in an unchanging kingdom, any more than they reduce the promise of God’s mercy to the observation that rainbows are colorful.
Second Sunday in Lent
March 8, 2009
Genesis 17:1–7, 15–16; Psalm 22:22–30; Romans 4:13–25; Mark 8:31–38
In the lessons from Genesis and Mark this Sunday, God identifies his people, and God gives them a purpose. In both cases, although the identity is revealed to a small number, it is meant for an entire people. Abram and Sarai are given new names as individuals, but they are the ancestors of God’s chosen people who are still identified by the covenant described in this passage. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus calls his disciples to take up their cross. He said it to those who were in listening-distance two thousand years ago, but the message has lasted and all who are baptized are marked with the cross of Christ.
In keeping with the theme of Lent, let’s pause before we rush too quickly to claim the new identity that is offered by God. We already have identities. That’s what God wants to help us with. The new identities will not have a place to live until we get rid of our old ones. This is a season dedicated to self-examination, change, and renewal. The good news that God will live in us is always preceded by the understanding that we cannot continue to live for ourselves. There is an old life to renounce before we can wholly embrace a new one.
In Genesis, God makes a covenant with Abram. This is the second mention of the covenant. In Genesis 15:17–21, God dwelled more on the promise of land. Here, in Genesis 17:1–7, 15–16, God emphasizes Abram and Sarai’s descendents. Indeed, as a sign of the covenant, God gives Abram a new name to indicate the future. Abraham means “Father of a multitude.” This is a great promise and brings about great joy, but it is worth noting that the fulfillment of the covenant will occur long after the death of Abraham and Sarah. Of course, they will know the birth of their son Isaac, but the promised multitude will not come about for some generations. It is a valuable lesson to understand that joy and meaning come from living in the covenant of God’s promise for the future, more than from accumulating a list of accomplishments. Abraham and Sarah would not see their multitude of descendants, but they would live their lives knowing the identity that God had given them. They lived in a promise that was deeper than verification. They were the ancestors of God’s people.
In Mark, Jesus also identifies his people with a promise of life. In this case, life is not measured by a multitude of descendants as it is with Abraham and Sarah; life is measured by a willingness to follow Jesus in self-giving love: “those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” The paradox of finding real life in a willingness to surrender ourselves marks the covenant with a cross. This is the first instance of the word “cross” in the Gospel of Mark, although Jesus’ enemies have been planning to destroy him since chapter 3. The cross is more than a description of how Jesus will die; it is how Jesus will live with his disciples. It is a cruciform covenant established by Jesus that identifies his followers. As with earlier covenants, the cross describes a relationship with God that is lived everyday — not a goal that can be achieved.
A new life with God is possible only when we can stop defending our old life. The cross is a symbol of the death of the old life as much as it is a promise of the resurrection to come. Paul sums it up as follows: “We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin.” (Rom 6:6)
The covenant with Abraham and the cross are both gifts of God that identify an entire people. The life of each person in the multitude is unique, but all share a common identity given by God.
Third Sunday in Lent
March 15, 2009
Exodus 20:1–17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:18–25; John 2:13–22
Last week God gave his people a new identity for their mission. Abram and Sarai received their new names Abraham and Sarah. Disciples of Jesus were to be marked with a cross. This week God identifies himself. Before he gives his people the Ten Commandments, God recalls for them: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” When Jesus drove money changers from the temple, he was asked, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” and Jesus identified himself with the Temple, the holy place of God, and made the Temple a metaphor for his resurrection.
When God calls his people to responsibility he attests his authority as the one who is qualified to make the call. In these scriptures, God reminds us who he is. In Exodus, he calls us to the freedom of living with the liberator. In John, he calls us to the excitement of following one who has zeal for a life with God.
The liberation of God’s people from slavery is his central deed of grace in the Hebrew Scriptures. In the same way, the resurrection of Jesus is the pivotal act of God in the New Testament. God’s relationship with his people, as presented in the two divisions of the Bible, rests on the pillars of the exodus and the resurrection. Both stories are offered in today’s scriptures.
In Exodus, before God gives his people the gift of the Decalogue, he establishes his credentials. He reminds the newly liberated slaves that he is the source of salvation. Such a God is worth listening to. The commandments are given by the author of freedom. They are not a burden. They are a continuation of the story of liberation.
In John, Jesus drives money changers from the Temple because of the same love of freedom. People were buying a relationship with God for the price of a sacrificial animal, and Jesus saw the gift of a joyous life of worship degraded to a financial transaction. As Moses had lifted his staff over the Red Sea so many years before, Jesus raises a whip of cords and offers people a life of zeal for worship.
Those who profited from dependence on legalistic sacrifice asked Jesus, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” What authority can expel oppressive drudgery and shallow rules? Jesus responded by referring to his resurrection. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up. … But he was speaking of the temple of his body.” The Temple had been built as a place to meet God. In referring to his defeat of death, Jesus promised that the Temple would remain. There would always be a true place to meet God.
The preacher is given these scriptures in which God identifies himself. God tells us who he is and then calls us to do remarkable things. The instructions of the Ten Commandments and the joy of worship are for people who want a new life empowered by God.
God has the authority to call people to such a life. He tells us who he is in these scriptures. The Gospel is not proclaimed by diminishing the demands of the law or the claims of a life with God. The Gospel is proclaimed by declaring the life-changing power of the one who makes the demands.
Fourth Sunday in Lent
March 22, 2009
Numbers 21:4–9; Psalm 107:1–3, 17–22; Ephesians 2:1–10; John 3:14–21
At the midway point in the Lenten season we have an opportunity to proclaim God’s endorsement of the practice of self-examination. In the reading from Numbers, God’s cure for the plight of his people is to have them look at an image of the very thing that is causing their troubles. In the Gospel of John, Jesus extinguishes any hope that God will hide our sin. God promises light to examine our sin.
The story from the Hebrew Scriptures stands in the tradition of the Israelites’ forgetting the unifying gift of liberation and descending into petty complaints. God punishes them with poisonous snakes, and the people seek intervention from Moses. They acknowledge that they have sinned, and they want the punishment stopped. It is noteworthy that they didn’t ask God to take away their sin; they asked him to take away the snakes. It has always been easier to regret punishment than to change our lives.
God didn’t take away the serpents. He gave the people a way to deal with them. He instructed Moses to make a bronze image of a serpent and display it on the top of a pole. People could look at the image and survive their wounds. It says something about redemption that God had his wayward people look at an image of their affliction as a way to be cured. To live as a liberated child of God on the journey, God calls us to look carefully at the object of our distress. A preacher who calls for honest self-examination will, possibly, not be well received. It is also unlikely that the Hebrews enjoyed looking at Moses’ craftsmanship. The bronze image of a serpent will not be a welcome decoration in a snake-infested community. Still, God calls us to know ourselves and to understand the true source of our distress. Healing and restoration follow self-examination.
This day’s gospel reading from John begins with a direct reference to the first reading from Numbers. Jesus says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” In this foreshadowing of the crucifixion, Jesus recalls an earlier time when the source of death became the hope for healing and protection during a dangerous journey. Jesus does not propose that his disciples will avoid death any more than God banished the serpents. He gives his people a way to overcome death.
The preacher has the opportunity to proclaim the Gospel of the defeat of death, even though his listeners may be hoping for a promise that death can be avoided. There is, however, a difference between resurrection and never having died. A relationship with God is often considered a place to hide from sin, pain, and even death. A culture that equates faith with health and prosperity will be confused by the notion that salvation rests on a foundation of self-examination and confronting our sin. Popular religion, as often as not, is an exercise in the proposition that the unexamined life is well worth living.
Into this self-willed blindness, Jesus comes with the offer “that the world might be saved through him.” When our self-examination reveals shallowness, selfishness, or indifference, we want change. We want to live as people of God. God’s salvation is light. It is based on unflinching self-examination in the illumination God shines on the children he loves.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” God came looking for us; as Jesus, he became human so he could live with us. When he caught up with us, it was on the cross — because God had become a human and humans die. Darkness allows us to ignore death. The light of God lets us see physical death as the second-rate tyranny that it is. We can believe in God who came into our lives even at the cost of the cross so that we can have eternal life.
When Jesus is lifted on the cross, in the full light of God’s grace, we can look at the instrument of death and know that it is our separation from God that is dying.
Fifth Sunday in Lent
March 29, 2009
Jeremiah 31:31-34, Ps 51:1-12, Heb 5:5-10, John 12:20-33
This week’s reading from John invites the preacher to build on the foundation preached last week. Perhaps the phrase “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life,” (Jn 12:25) cries out for a nuanced and multi-faceted exploration. There is such a strong tendency for many listeners to simply brush this phrase aside as just another one of those old-fashioned church concepts of stressing heavenly reward at the expense of living fully and abundantly here and now. There is an opportunity here for the preacher to explore some of the aspects of “their life in this world” that we might, indeed, want to deliberately reject and be better off – here and now — for both the examination and the rejection.
Not just this week, but always, we are reminded that our faith and our behavior, after all, are not “all or nothing” propositions. It is in probing for the nuances and facets and rejecting the blanket assumptions that we come to both self-realization and a deeper faith. In revisiting some of the most familiar of lessons with the determination to crack the shell of familiarity that we help breathe new life into both our lives and our understanding of Scripture.
