SG
1 Lent
Posted on: 03/15/2011 20:01
(Note- There was a table draped in purple cloth with candle, bread, large stones)
Today is the first Sunday of Lent. Lent comes from “lengthening”, as in the lengthening of days as spring approaches. There are forty days of Lent, plus six Sundays. Forty is significant for forty days in the wilderness, forty years in the desert. As we know during trying times, days can blend together. It may just mean “a long time”.
The Council of Nicea in 325 C.E set the date for Easter. It is always the first Sunday after the first full moon of the spring equinox. So, that explains why it is early some years and later others - like this year.
The liturgical colour for Lent is purple.
For some, Lent is a time of sadness and grief, as we reflect on the last days of Jesus’ life. Yet, for others, grief is not its goal, like the words of our opening hymn ("Now Quit Your Care"). It, for them, is a time of refocusing on Jesus’ ministry and our call to it. We hopefully remember that Lent is high points and low points, we remember that it is sad in spots and ecstatically joyful in others.
It can be a time of reflecting on how well we are doing and listening to the quiet voice that says “what about this?” (ties into children's time and temptation - "what about this?")
Lent offers a synopsis of our faith tradition as the lectionary readings in coming weeks hit some of the key people and key stories of our faith. It is a time chosen often for baptisms, confirmation classes, transferring memberships and recalling a baptism.
Last year, my course requirements had me journal every day during Lent, one whole typed page each day. I hated the idea and I initially hated doing it. This year, without it being required, I began again. Not a regular journal or diary entry, but one that was to be solely about faith, beliefs, trials…
We were told it would be where we saw God and where we felt God was absent, yes- absent, and in the writing of it I found myself finding God yes, even there in the midst of that.
We wrote where we felt assured and where we doubted, and in doing so I found assurance that most people in our sacred tradition and our stories had their own doubts.
We wrote of what we saw as our strengths and weaknesses, where we felt we deserved the title “follower of The Way” or “follower of Christ” and where we felt we talked it more than we walked it. In doing so, I found ways speaking to me of walks I could walk if I just took that first step. I also could see those of our tradition that we hear of throughout our Lenten scripture readings who were also perfectly flawed human beings…or who fell down at times. It was life altering.
So, I had a sermon all prepared, except for an edit, on Thursday. You know I am a ten minutes early means five minutes late type.
It was mainly about temptation and how Jesus was perhaps not simply tempted in one story. The temptation narrative is not a CNN news report; rather it is something more. It is the story of an inner struggle artfully rendered.
Jesus may have been tempted throughout his ministry. The temptations, not the musical group, were definitely there. His persistent and determined rejection of celebrity, the pomp and supremacy that public zeal creates and can secure… the temptation to give in to the crowds, accept adulation as King in all it meant to them, it could have been tremendous.
So, my sermon was on it not being a one-time event, but a lifetime challenge.
Likely, it was very similar to those delivered the first Sunday of Lent in this building over the years and likely one you have all pretty much heard.
Then, Friday morning we awoke to the coverage of the earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan.
I tried to work on finishing my sermon on Friday, but the words would not come. I had no words.
There were times I was angry, in the first few minutes after the disaster where there was more discussion about what it would do to financial markets and stocks….
There were times my heart ached and tears fell. I watched the much repeated news clip where debris approaches a bridge, from a distance not looking much more than tamarack debris floating on a river. Then as they zoomed in, you could see cars, and even houses… the reporter focused on things you could see in the water and my heart broke for those things smaller than cars that could not /would not be seen.
So, I returned yesterday to my sermon aware of nuclear dangers and knew we may sit here this morning with that awareness or that reality.
I pondered wilderness times, the dark nights of the soul. They come. Just like last week when we talked about mountain tops as well as valleys.
In another time, I might have wondered, “Is God real? If God is real, is God near? If God is near, does God care?” It is a perfectly natural response. There are no lectures from me for being human. How many times must we read Job, Lamentations, and other stories of the Bible before we understand that saying it, admitting it, in our communities is ok?
I said I might have wondered, because that was before the life altering Lenten journal. You see there was a day I was journaling and I doodled a couple pictures in the margins of my journal. I drew one picture that had a large circle, marked “God” and under that circle I had another smaller circle that said “people”. I did a bunch of little circles, underneath the large one. (I used an image)
There was a second doodle, the revolutionary/revelation one, that had the same large circle marked “God”, except this time the small circle was inside the large one. The other small circles of other “peoples” were also inside that large circle.
In the first image, God does things to people and we to God. We do things to or for each other outside the realm of God. God is distant.
In the second, well, it speaks for itself – at least it did for me. God does not do things to people and we cannot do things to God. We cannot do things to or for each other outside the realm of God. God is near.
I once thought my view made me outside the clique of believers. I kept silent, feeling alone. Until, I learned about a form of theism called panentheism and there was nothing new about my drawing. I only knew, I was not alone, in honest fellowship.
The revival of the spirit comes in stillness and quiet and the fellowship of understanding company.
To have understanding fellowship, we have to be understanding.
Our culture says, “do not dwell on it”. Stay busy, do things. Yes, some of us will. For others, this will be a dry time of the soul and they may need to stay still to put down roots.
Many will be spurred to heal with activism. That is good. For others, healing comes with quietness and trying to gain understanding or their bearings. That too is good.
There are times, “don’t just stand there, do something” needs reversed. When the spirit is in trauma, sometimes “do nothing, just stand there” is better advice.
For some, they turn to an always present God, with much to say and ask and ponder. For others, they may be unable or have no words. They may not know where to turn to seek God and feel God is distant. For still others, they need to reflect on what they have seen and heard alert for signs of God’s continuing presence.
I mention our diversity, so that we can create and nurture fellowship of understanding company. We must not let people feel they are alone.
I was tempted to just stay on the lectionary and deliver a sermon on either Jesus being tempted, how Jesus was offered an easy way out, or Adam and Eve facing temptation.
Yet, the Genesis story says we now know the difference between right and wrong and I knew not mentioning the recent events, in Japan, felt wrong and was taking the easy way out. We have been glued to coverage, we ourselves, know a couple and three beautiful children who live in Japan. Who else might be concerned, scared, feeling like this is a dark night of their soul?
Not speaking it, leaving people feeling alone as they process events, worry… it felt wrong.
I cannot stand here, before you or God, and pretend it is not happening. It is happening and it is happening to God's children and happening to us all, worldwide. The web of life means we are all connected.
As I said last week in a quote from John Muir,“if we tug on anything at all we will find it connected to everything else in the universe.”
How could I go from last week talking about light as awareness and then put my head in the sand? How could I hide in the comfort of a tent?
God is on the mountaintop and in the valley, in the lush places and the dark nights of the soul. God is both the hunger and the bread and God is even in the stones…. Amen.
(led in New Creed and Lord's Prayer)
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