Sunday, February 28, 2010

Lent 2C

I am going to make a statement that could apply to 100, 200 and many more years ago. It speaks to a universality....

There is so much tragedy in the world these days to cause us to weep. Haiti enters its sixth week of life post earthquake. Chile has now joined the ranks of the suffering and Hawai’i felt the effects of the earthquake’s resultant tsunami even though it was mild. The First Nation people of South Dakota are still struggling to come back to normalcy after an ice storm left them without electricity and water for two weeks. Last week we took up a collection for Episcopal Relief and Development. Know that they will still be there for the long-haul for all these places, just as Vermont-based foundations Cristosal, Pure Water for the World and CHABHA will be (if you’re curious, come to our Lenten series!).

Even as we weep for the people of these places, even as Jesus wept for his beloved Jerusalem, we are constantly called to pick up our spiritual bags and move on. That is what Lent is about.

Last week we entered into the desert and today we continue this faith journey into the desert. Our pilgrimage lasts seven weeks until we arrive in Jerusalem where our saviour, Jesus Christ, suffered, died and rose again. During this time, the church invites us to follow a more serious life, a life that brings us closer to God.

This season, which began with Ash Wednesday asks us to become pilgrims in the journey of love. To become a pilgrim one must become humble, humble like dust and ashes. One has to realise that there is not a clear path to this love and God; by walking the journey creates itself.

The Lenten journey is above all that which asks us to enter into the depths of our hearts where not only the good resides; so also do our sins against God, our neighbour and ourselves. Lent invites us to examine our conscience and then repent of our sins. What strengthens us in this journey is the knowledge that God made us in God’s image and despite our sins, we are not bad; we are still God’s beloved.

A word of caution, however, about the nature of this journey: it is not merely about entering deep into ourselves. Sam Portaro reminds us, ‘Living into relationship with God is the most profound Lenten discipline. Lent is a time for intentional work on our relationship. God feels earth’s sorrows and mine. God shares earth’s work, and yours. God knows earth’s joy, and ours. In relationship we share everything. Yet when we undertake our disciplines, our schemes of self-reformation or community transformation, we only reinforce the notion that we can go it alone, that all is dependent upon us. Withdrawing further into ourselves we unwittingly deny the very thing we confess in the wearing of ashes.

‘It is not we alone who need to turn around in this season. God wants to share our lives. God, too, wants to come in from the distance we have imposed. God longs to be included again, perhaps most deeply longs to be included by those of us who, in our selfish designs and controls, have locked God out. Perhaps God’s deepest grief comes of us who… have denied God any active place. God wants to share our lives again.’ (1)

So, part of our Lenten journey, beyond weeping holy tears for all that is tragic in the world, is letting God back into our lives. That is perhaps the most important aspect of Lent, beyond whatever self-reform we might come up with. Sometimes that means taking a journey to the unknown.

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The first reading for today tells us the story of Abram and his wife, Sarai (though she does not appear in the reading, she has a very important role in the development of the people of Israel). God has asked them to leave their native country to go to a foreign land. At first, Abram protests, saying that he does not want to go so far away with no assurances of the future. Eventually, he decides to leave with all his family. Thus Abram and Sarai become pilgrims in a place that is not theirs. When they begin their journey to the unknown, they have in front of them four promises to guide them: God will make of them a great nation; God will bless them, God will give importance to their names and finally, through them, God will bless all the families of the world. When he receives these promises, Abram no longer asks anything of God; he accepts it all and takes off into his faith journey.

Quite a while later, God reappears to Abram. He speaks to him in a way that normally is reserved for people who speak to angels — the type conversation that happens when God wants someone to do something outrageous. When God speaks to the prophets or Mary or in other cases, God’s first words are, Do not be afraid. (There is no place in the Bible where God begins his wishes by saying: Be afraid!) God continues: I will be a shield for you; and your reward shall be very great. In the original Hebrew, the word, ‘shield,’ was actually ‘garden’ or a secure place — God would be a secure place for Abram and Sarai.

Before saying anything else, Abram stops God with his big question — like most everyone else when God comes to them with an outrageous request: How can this be when I am childless? He can’t even picture the possibility of starting a family because Sarai is so old. God answers by telling him to look at the stars in the heavens; his descendents will be as numerous as them. Further, God will make a pact with Abram in which his descendents will be given the land from the river in Egypt to the great river of the Euphrates.
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How many have you done what Abram did, that is, leave your country to go to an unknown place with little hope? Have you ever asked God: Why do I have to leave? What more do you want me to do for you? It hurts to leave and I am afraid. Have you ever asked yourself these questions or similar ones?

We have someone in our midst who is about to go forth to unknown parts, leaving behind her life here for six to ten months. Noelle will be working in Haiti. She will need our prayers. She will need our support. She can do it because God has said to her as God says to anyone following God’s path: Do not be afraid. But there will be moments when questioning the wisdom of this decision will arise.


We have launched ourselves off onto an unknown journey with our soup kitchen. We don't really know where the road is going to lead us but we have God's promise of accompaniment.

God will always answer us with these words, Do not be afraid. Regardless whether this is an imminent question or one off in an unknown future or at the time of our death, God will always say to us that it will work out — all will be well, all will be well and all manner of thing shall be well. We may not always understand just what ‘well’ means because sometimes our definition is very different from God’s. But all will be well.

How do we trust in this promise? We trust because God has made a pact with us just as with Abram. At the moment of becoming members of Christ’s body through baptism, God promises us that God will always be with us and will never abandon us. From the moment we receive blessed water on our foreheads, we are heirs of God’s kingdom. Above all, we have the promise that God loves us now and always.

This love is so strong. God’s love for us is good news and thanks to it, we can enter deeply into Lent’s journey. With God’s love, we can become pilgrims on this journey of love. This pilgrimage is sometimes bizarre and unknown with many twists and turns, but God always writes straight on the crooked lines of our lives. Like Abram, we have the promise that God will be with us for all times. So, let us be on our way… without fear.

END NOTE
(1) Sam Portaro, Daysprings: Meditations for the Weekdays of Advent, Lent, and Easter (Cambridge, MA: Cowley, 2000), 70.

Photo: Barbara stirring the pot for our first soup kitchen, 13 February 2010

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