Fifth Sunday of Lent

Fifth Sunday of Lent
April 2, 2006

“I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts... I will be their God, and they shall be my people…" (Jer 31:31-34). “Create a clean heart in me, O God.” (Psalm 51). "Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life" (John 12:20-33).

We are presented with a profound insight into the relationship between the divine law and human conscience. Jeremiah looks forward to a time when there will be a new relationship between God and the people of God. In this new age we will desire and do only what is right and good, not because we are told to or because it is written in sacred documents, but because it is the only possibility, "written" in the deepest part of us. Nor do we do what is right in order to "get to heaven". We do it because it is the only thing consistent with how we are made in the divine image. Until now this has not been possible because we are self-centered and obtuse about the reason for our existence, which is only to reflect the goodness, truth and beauty of the Most High. This is not something we can do for ourselves. It can only be accomplished by God essentially starting over with us, remaking creation, especially the human part of it which has gone so wrong. The Psalm reflects our desire for this to happen, to be given a "clean heart", a guilt-free conscience. This vision is not just a story from the ancient past. It is both near at hand and far away, now and in the future.

Jesus responds to a request from foreigners (Greek speaking Jews) to talk with him with an enigmatic saying about what it takes to gain eternal life. He compares our spiritual lives to a grain of wheat dying in order to produce life. John obviously wants us to understand this as foreshadowing Christ's death and resurrection. Jesus goes on to express fear and dread about what is to come yet refuses to give in to the temptation to ask for his Father to spare him. How could we relate to a Christ who did not experience all of our doubt, anguish and trepidation? All he asked was that the Most High not abandon him. This is a model of how our prayers should go

Two people very close to me have been surprised by love recently. And it is barely Spring. Knowing them both quite well, I am privileged to witness firsthand the transformation they are undergoing. Both of them have "paid their dues" faithfully over the years without expectations of any immediate reward beyond knowing they are living life as patiently and honestly as possible. Neither of them are traditional "believers". Both have an implicit sense of trust in the Spirit without fanfare. Another friend with a serious life-threatening disease has been surprised with a bit of unexpected energy. Today my respirator mask suddenly fits right. Big deal or small, we never know where and when the grain of wheat which we allow to fall to the ground and die will sprout again to life.

Fourth Sunday of Lent

Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 26, 2006

"Those who escaped the sword were carried captive to Babylon..." (II Chronicles 36). "By the streams of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion..." (Psalm 137). "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved..." (John 3:14-21).

In 697 BCE a Babylonian army swept in upon Israel, destroyed Jerusalem and the temple and killed or carried off their brightest and best as hostages. There they remained for four generations until their persecutors were themselves overthrown by the Persian king, Cyrus. He allowed them to return home to begin the long process of rebuilding. His name ("Lord") became synonymous with liberation. They found the remnants of those left behind broken, confused and alienated from their sacred traditions. This exile became a defining moment in the cultural and spiritual memory of Jews and Christians. We would never be the same again, but perhaps something new and fresh could come of it.

We are more aware than ever that even our home planet exists "in exile", a microscopic obscure outpost in a cold and random universe. Earth will eventually be obliterated by the same cosmic processes which created it. Our national and cultural histories all have stories of past and present exiles, of mistreatment by powerful and malicious "foreigners". We sometimes hold on to these stories too tightly, becoming possessed by them and perpetrating similar evils on others, precluding all possibility of liberation. It is clearer with each new generation that our ancient tribal loyalties often ensure that humanity will remain a hostage in permanent exile. Every earthly kingdom imagines it will be the exception to the rule and not end in powerlessness and obscurity.

We all understand what it means to be in exile, deprived of all that is safe, sacred and familiar. Most of us know what it is like to be alienated from the fellowship and regard of others. This experience of exile from the human community seems also to follow from one generation to the next, passed along from parent to child. Even our cherished spiritual communities, churches, synagogues and mosques easily become agents of exclusion and alienation, perpetuating the cycle of exile.

In spite of all this apparent gloom and hopelessness, we have hope from an unexpected quarter, just as Cyrus delivered our Jewish ancestors from exile. The Lord of the universe has not left us alone in spite of all we may have done to each other to deserve it. We see our liberation already at hand whenever our human institutions and individuals follow the impulse to act on behalf of others instead of self-interest. We thus hasten the day when our divine liberator will be able to complete the process of redemption and resurrection.

Fourth Sunday of Lent

Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 26, 2006

"Those who escaped the sword were carried captive to Babylon..." (II Chronicles 36). "By the streams of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion..." (Psalm 137). "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved..." (John 3:14-21).

In 697 BCE a Babylonian army swept in upon Israel, destroyed Jerusalem and the temple and killed or carried off their brightest and best as hostages. There they remained for four generations until their persecutors were themselves overthrown by the Persian king, Cyrus. He allowed them to return home to begin the long process of rebuilding. His name ("Lord") became synonymous with liberation. They found the remnants of those left behind broken, confused and alienated from their sacred traditions. This exile became a defining moment in the cultural and spiritual memory of Jews and Christians. We would never be the same again, but perhaps something new and fresh could come of it.

We are more aware than ever that even our home planet exists "in exile", a microscopic obscure outpost in a cold and random universe. Earth will eventually be obliterated by the same cosmic processes which created it. Our national and cultural histories all have stories of past and present exiles, of mistreatment by powerful and malicious "foreigners". We sometimes hold on to these stories too tightly, becoming possessed by them and perpetrating similar evils on others, precluding all possibility of liberation. It is clearer with each new generation that our ancient tribal loyalties often ensure that humanity will remain a hostage in permanent exile. Every earthly kingdom imagines it will be the exception to the rule and not end in powerlessness and obscurity.

We all understand what it means to be in exile, deprived of all that is safe, sacred and familiar. Most of us know what it is like to be alienated from the fellowship and regard of others. This experience of exile from the human community seems also to follow from one generation to the next, passed along from parent to child. Even our cherished spiritual communities, churches, synagogues and mosques easily become agents of exclusion and alienation, perpetuating the cycle of exile.

In spite of all this apparent gloom and hopelessness, we have hope from an unexpected quarter, just as Cyrus delivered our Jewish ancestors from exile. The Lord of the universe has not left us alone in spite of all we may have done to each other to deserve it. We see our liberation already at hand whenever our human institutions and individuals follow the impulse to act on behalf of others instead of self-interest. We thus hasten the day when our divine liberator will be able to complete the process of redemption and resurrection.

Third Sunday of Lent

Third Sunday of Lent
March 19, 2006

"I, the LORD, am your God... You shall not have other gods besides me." (Exodus 20). " Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up... many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing. But Jesus would not trust himself to them..." (John 2: 13-25)

Our father Moses receives the commandments from Yahweh, and delivers them to us as a gift for all time. All of them are based on our trust in the one God and our reverence for all that is sacred in this God and each other. This is a defining moment in human history. The commandments are rules of attitude and conduct which we would naturally follow even if they were not written down. They are "written" in the order of nature and in the human heart and mind, as necessary for life as food and shelter. Nevertheless, being distracted and forgetful, we seem to need divine authority to keep us focused on essential things.

Jesus, in a rare display of aggression, throws the "money changers" and sellers of sacrificial animals out of the Temple, even though they were performing a necessary service for pilgrims and worshipers (like Jesus himself). His disciples recognized that he was motivated by zeal for worship in spirit and truth. There are times when I would love to assume that my own aggression is similarly righteous. More often the truth is that I am indulging in self justification. Through history and to our own day our most sacred places and practices have always been at risk of being subverted by money and profit even though both are required to keep them going. When does the business of religion threaten the integrity of our worship? Consider our anger and anxiety about how much it is going to cost us to deliver justice to victims of sexual abuse by the church. We can generate considerable anger, without any knowledge of the facts, that "they are just out for the money". This attitude may reveal more about ourselves than it does about the motives of those who come forward with the truth.

Religious leaders challenge Jesus over his right to assume responsibility for the integrity of the Temple and his statement about rebuilding it in three days. This discussion is not about how long it would take to rebuild the Temple structure. It is about the rebuilding of the spirit through the resurrection. Jesus refuses to get trapped in an argument about this. People were following him for the wrong reasons. They were enthralled with his marvelous deeds and words and missing the point of his intimate relationship with the Most High. For this reason "he did not trust himself to them", because they were looking for signs and proof. We have the cart before the horse. Trust, not miracles, "proves" the power of God. This would be a good time to consider what is most sacred to us, and what brings us closer to the heart of God and each other.

Second Sunday of Lent

Second Sunday of Lent
March 12, 2006

"I will bless you abundantly and make your descendants as countless as the stars of the sky and the sands of the seashore... because you obeyed my command.” (Genesis 22). "... He was transfigured before them..." (Mark 9:2-10)

Abraham, in obedience to Yahweh, takes his son up to a mountain prepared to sacrifice him but at the last minute is given a reprieve. He is rewarded for this obedience with a promise that he is founding a great multitude of descendents in faith. This story represents the childhood of our religious development when we conceived of God as someone to be placated with sacrifice (human and otherwise). It is impossible now to imagine such a capricious and bloodthirsty God who would ask this of us, or we even considering such an act. The Scriptures often tell us that God wants the gift of our devotion, love and trust, not sacrifice. Our obedience takes the form of acceptance of those otherwise unavoidable people, situations and events which bring pain and suffering into our lives. Rather than unthinking obedience to a capricious "will of God", perhaps we are "tested" by how we receive in faith the challenges of the unpredictable and catastrophic. We, just as Abraham, sometimes are asked to sacrifice what is most precious to us. His willingness to do so created the same opportunity for us his people

Jesus and three of his disciples go up on a mountain where they receive a vision of him in dazzling white garments. The details of the story were not lost on the early Christians. They see the prophet Moses and Elijah talking with them. Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law and the prophets. They are enveloped by a cloud and hear God expressing delight and favor with Jesus. The cloud of divine presence on this mountain would have reminded them of how Yahweh appeared to Abraham and Moses. Jesus' words and deeds will have the same divine authority as did the patriarchs of old.

Peter, impulsively as usual, wants to camp out and make this wonderful moment permanent. But just as quickly the vision disappears and they are back down off the mountain into daily reality once more. Much like some of our own religious or mystical experiences, they may have wondered if it really even happened. Was it just a dream? Can we trust such fleeting and out of the ordinary experiences? Would people think we are crazy if we told them? The disciples were reluctant to talk about this experience because they were not sure what "rising from the dead" meant. What a strange and hopelessly hopeful idea. No wonder they did not know what to make of it. Neither do we even after all these centuries of faith. Nevertheless Easter and the Resurrection to a new kind of life will soon be upon us. Jesus' Transfiguration on the mountain and in the cloud reveals something about how we will all be changed.

First Sunday of Lent

First Sunday of Lent
March 5, 2006

"God said to Noah, "I set my bow in the clouds to serve as a sign of the covenant between me and the earth." (Genesis 9:8-15). "This prefigured baptism, which saves you now... (I Peter 3:18 -22). "The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert... and the angels ministered to him." (Mark 1:12-15)

After a disastrous flood which nearly extinguished human life on earth Yahweh tells Noah that the rainbow will be a sign of the promise never to do that again. Discussions about whether or not this flood literally covered the earth or whether the ark literally contained every species of life miss the point of the story. God often in human history can be both impatient and endlessly patient with us. All creation was "buried" in water which should have annihilated it. Based on our track record it would have been richly deserved. Instead these waters of destruction and despair have been transformed into waters of life and hope.

A friend told me recently that being on and close to the ocean has always elicited a profound experience of peace and freedom which otherwise was often missing from her life. This is a case in point, a marvelous individual religious experience and fulfillment of the divine promise. As we hear in the letter of Peter, the waters of the flood are completed in the waters of baptism. All of us are "baptized" just when we think we will be inundated by fear and guilt. At the last moment, when all seems lost, we emerge in much better shape than we could have possibly hoped or imagined.

Jesus is "driven" by the Spirit into a remote and threatening place. The language used to describe this suggests his journey into the desert was more than a gentle nudge. We don't hear exactly what the nature of his temptation was. Our tradition of faith tells us that Jesus was "like us in all things except sin". Was he feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of facing the burden of his future? Like him, we are all driven to face our demons in a lonely place. But then we are, also like him, visited by our Father's heavenly messengers bringing word that we are in not alone. Another threat of annihilation, transformed into hope.

I have wondered, especially in the darkness of night time, about how much longer I have, how I will know when my time is up, how death will come, etc. Then morning comes, people who love me show up (a human rainbow) and: these questions and fears have evaporated. Life looks good and interesting. I have a future again. Something new and permanent can come out of isolation and hopelessness. In forty days we celebrate our hope of transformation. If every Sunday is a "little Easter", we don't even have to wait until then. This Lent would be a great time to look again for our rainbows, human and otherwise.