Remembering God’s Goodness (Lent 2)

Psalm 63: 1-8
Roger Lynn
February 28, 2021
Second Sunday in Lent
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Life can be a challenging and overwhelming experience sometimes. There are times when it feels as if our inner as well as our social resources are depleted, and we have no where left to turn. The title of Psalm 63 declares it to be “A Psalm of David, when he was in the Wilderness of Judah.” We know what it feels like to be in a wilderness. The news announces yet mass shooting and our hearts sink once again. The political turmoil continues to swirl and we recognize the familiar feeling of frustration. The pandemic just keeps going, and friends and family get sick, and we find ourselves distressed. There are times when we long for the comfort and security of a life which seems to be rapidly disappearing. The familiar landmarks are fading fast.

Those of us for whom faith is an important part of life can draw strength and comfort from our relationship with God. But sometimes even faith seems to falter. We focus so much on the present distress over what is or is not happening right now, and it is ease to lose sight of the bigger picture. We can’t see God in this instant, so we despair. How, then, do we maintain and nurture our faith in such a way that we not only survive but thrive even in the midst of our wilderness experiences? There are no simple answers or easy solutions, but we might begin by paying attention to our relationship with God. As with any relationship, it will almost certainly atrophy and flounder if we take it for granted and neglect it. A healthy and vital relationship of any kind, including one with God, will involve active and ongoing participation on our part. We would do well, then, to follow the example of David in the Psalms.

When he found himself in the wilderness, it was God to whom he turned. And when he could not immediately discover God’s presence, he sought after it until he found it. “O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” (Psalm 63:1) And where he begins his search is in his own memory – remembering those times in his own life when God had not felt so distant and difficult to find. “So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.” (Psalm 63:2-3) “...for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.” (Psalm 63:7) Looking back to God’s goodness which had previously been experienced led directly into a present-tense awareness of God’s ongoing presence, even in the wilderness.

A steady diet of nostalgia is certainly not healthy. Simply longing for “the good old days” was not what David was doing. Such attitudes can easily keep us trapped in the past, unable to move forward. But there are times when it is helpful and healthy to look back in order to gain the strength for the journey ahead. In a relationship with friends or spouse, the practice of “remember when...” can be an important part of strengthening the ties which bind us together. Sitting at the kitchen table looking at pictures of important moments in your shared history is one way of remembering who you are for each other. The same is true of our relationship with God. Reflecting on those times when God felt particularly close can help attune and focus our spiritual senses in times of wilderness isolation. Remembering those occasions when we felt very grounded in the faith which sustains us can strengthen hope for our present circumstances.

And it is about more than simply the courage to endure. The power of God in our lives can transform the very fabric of our reality. God is fully present in every moment of every day of our living. But sometimes we forget to notice. Or we are too overwhelmed by the weight of the moment to see. Remembering God’s goodness is a way of drawing our attention back to what has always been and continues to be true. We occasionally need to be reminded of the reality to which Isaiah points us. Even when it feels as if we are in the wilderness, distracted by the pain and the stress and the loneliness which the world can throw at us, God is saying to us, “Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. . . Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:1-2) Paying attention to our relationship with God can help us to remember this important truth. And paying attention before we find ourselves in the wilderness can help prepare us for those occasions when the familiar disappears and life becomes overwhelming. May we remember God’s goodness which has gone before, so that we might continue to experience God’s goodness in this present moment. In this season of Lent may we continue our journey from darkness into light.

Spending Time in the Wilderness (Lent 1)

Luke 4: 1-13
Roger Lynn
February 21, 2021
First Sunday in Lent
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Today is the first Sunday in the season of Lent - the part of the Church calendar which leads us to Easter. It has traditionally been a season marked by thoughtful prayer and reflection. There are valuable reasons why the Church has developed the cycle of seasons which now take us through the year, from Advent and Epiphany, through Lent, Easter and Pentecost, into a long period of “Ordinary Time,” and back again to Advent. Each season has its own themes, its own character, its own gifts to share. They offer us opportunities to spend time exploring a wide variety of ways in which life and faith intersect – from times of joy to times of grief, from experiences of deep spiritual connection to “dark nights of the soul,” from mountain top ecstasy to the “valley of the shadow of death,” from extraordinary moments to ordinary days. The genius of paying attention to the seasons of the Church year is that even if we aren’t experiencing a particular theme in our lives at that particular moment, the chances are good that we will at some point. The seasons provide us with a way of practicing faithful responses – trying them on, so to speak – so that we might be better prepared to face the experience when it does come our way.

One of the themes we find in the season of Lent is that of wilderness. It is the experience of being outside the normal, everyday flow of life. It can be an unsettling time when the routines in which we often find comfort fall away and the assumptions of life are reexamined. It is no accident that such experiences are often described in terms of wandering. The fact that there are no clear directions is central to what it means to have such a wilderness experience. It can also be a time of powerful growth, as previously hidden strengths and resources are discovered and explored. It is a time which is ripe with potential and new possibilities.

Luke describes Jesus’ time in the wilderness as a Spirit-led experience. This is an important note which is often overlooked. When we find ourselves in the midst of such an experience, cries of “Why me?” and “Where is God?” seem to come easily to our lips. There can be a sense of isolation and abandonment. In the midst of such an experience it can be helpful to remember that we are not alone on this journey. The routines of our living may have disappeared, but God is still with us, ready to shine light on the path if we will open ourselves to such guidance.

And remembering God’s presence is at the heart of what will help us deal with the temptations we face along the way. Luke describes these temptations as coming from the devil, the force which has been described elsewhere as the “Prince of Lies.” That is a pretty good way of understanding what seems to be a common human tendency – we lose track of the Truth and then try to live our lives based on that which is not true. In Luke’s story of Jesus’ temptations, all of the things which the devil offers are, at their heart, real and important and needed – food, security, power. The problem was not in what was being offered. The problem was the untruth behind how they were being offered. “God is not in the picture. Community is nowhere to be found. You are on your own. You have only yourself to rely on.” When we find ourselves in the midst of a wilderness experience, it is easy to fall into the trap of believing such things. Our culture certainly promotes such thinking. It can seem so true. Which is precisely why it is so vital that we remember who led us here in the first place, and who is present with us still. Jesus’ response to each of the temptations is essentially the same. “I am not on my own. My strength is found in my connection with Sacred Presence. That is what is real. That is what is true. That is what will see me through.” Jesus survives the experience because he remembers to stay grounded in this foundational truth.

And the, immediately following this story of temptation, Jesus moves out of his wilderness experience and begins teaching in the synagogues of Galilee. He is, in the words of Luke, “filled with the power of the Spirit.” It is important to note, however, that this powerful beginning to his public ministry occurs on the far side of the wilderness. Sometimes it takes spending some time in the uncomfortable wilderness of “not knowing” before we can find our way into a sense of knowing. Sometimes the only way out is through. And in those times when we find ourselves wandering in the wilderness, we would do well to remember that we are not alone. We are never alone. And even in those moments when we can’t see a way out we can draw strength from knowing that we are forever embraced in the care of the One who does.

As we journey through this season of Lent, I invite you to spend some time in the wilderness, remembering again the power which comes from knowing that God is always with us, no matter what.

God’s Radical Newness

Mark 2: 13-22
Roger Lynn
February 7, 2021

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God has always been the same. But we human beings have not always been very good at figuring out who God is, and how best to relate with God and with each other. And so it is that down through the years God has continued to challenge us to expand our horizons and push past the barriers we have erected in the name of faith. What we discover in Jesus is a living illustration of God’s ongoing and radical newness among us.

Jesus didn’t allow himself to become caught up in the limitations of the culture around him. As a consequence he often found himself in conflict with those in positions of power. He made them nervous because he challenged their understandings about the ways life works. Indeed, if we are honest, we will often find that Jesus makes us nervous as well, for all of the same reasons. It seems to be a human tendency to want life contained and controlled. Jesus, on the other hand, models a way of life which is decidedly not contained or controlled. In contrast to playing it safe and having things remain the same, we are presented with a call to take risks and step beyond the boundaries of our self-defined safety zones into the world of God’s radical newness.

One of the places where all of this comes into focus is in our relationships. Who we share life with, and how we go about sharing that life matters. It both shapes and defines much about who we are and how we experience life. Will we be open or will we be closed? Will our lives resemble a party or a prison?

An important metaphor in scripture for our relationships is the dinner table. Eating together is about more than just sharing a sandwich – it is about intimacy. It is no accident that some of the first controversies in the Church centered around who was eating with whom. And it is not merely coincidence that the central act of worship in the Church is a meal. 2,000 years later meals remain significant. Remember that in our own recent history it was at “lunch counters” where the battles for racial equality and civil rights often began. So we find Jesus eating with all the “wrong” people – those who were the outcasts and cast-offs of society. “Tax collectors and sinners” is what they are called in Mark’s Gospel. Definitely not appropriate dinner guests for polite society or for those who would seek to maintain an respectable religious position in life. But that is exactly who Jesus seeks out. It isn’t that he just accidentally finds himself in their company. He goes looking for them. He deliberately invites them to join him, or else he invites himself to eat in their homes and at their parties.

“Why does he do that?” is what the Pharisees wanted to know. And if we are honest with ourselves, it is probably what many of us would have wanted to know as well. It is simply not what nice people do. It is one thing to talk about loving your neighbor, and perhaps even helping them out of a jam from time to time. But to actually eat and drink with them, on purpose, on a regular basis – well, that’s just too much! And Jesus’ answer doesn’t really help us feel much better about things. “Those who are healthy have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” (Mark 2:17) It is as if Jesus says, “If your life is working for you, then don’t worry about what I have to offer. But don’t try to stop me from offering new hope to those for whom life is not working. And, while you’re at it, don’t get too over-confident about assuming that your life is working for you.”

Jesus’ message is clear – God is calling us to a life in which there are no “outsiders.” Everyone is invited to the party, and there are no pre-assigned seating arrangements. We all get to eat with each other. It is a way of life which doesn’t always fit with our old patterns. If we allow ourselves to become too concerned with the cultural expectations which have been handed to us, then we run the risk of cutting ourselves off from the full abundance of life which God has in store for us.

We are not necessarily the Pharisees, and in many respects we have come a long ways since that time. But it is an ongoing struggle, and God continues to challenge us. There are many “tax collectors and sinners” who now find themselves welcomed at our table. But we must always be on the lookout for the barriers we haven’t yet noticed, and the new ones which we continue to erect. Sixty years ago we were being called to expand our horizons regarding racial distinctions. Along the way we’ve also been challenged to examine the socio-economic differences which divide us. More recently the line has centered around the issue of sexual orientation. And lately we’ve come back around to the challenge of racial inequality. Each time we invite someone new to the table, there is rejoicing in heaven. And each time, we are reminded once again that there are still more to be invited. Where is the next line for you? Is your comfort zone threatened by people with different theological perspectives? ...or worship styles? ...or political views? ...or cultural backgrounds? ...or levels of education? Or perhaps the challenge for you is not so much in who you can accept, but rather in how active you will be in inviting them to share life with you. It is easy to grow complacent as we go about the daily routines of our life. We associate with the same people, because that is who we come into easy contact with. When we meet other people we are accepting, but how much effort do we make in actively reaching out beyond our comfort zone?

Where is God calling us to go? What walls are we being challenged to tear down? How can we actively participate in the ongoing and inclusive celebration of God’s radical newness in our world? It is an ongoing journey, and we can take the next step now.