Lent One: Into the Wilderness

The date was May 28, 1969. The last day of our sophomore year at Messiah College. Our class was getting together at a cabin in the woods for our last class gathering before we scattered for the summer. We knew that many of our number would transfer or leave school at the end of the semester, so this was one last time together – maybe for the rest of our lives.

We got set up in the cabin, men in one area, women in another. Then, while supper was being prepared, we went for a walk in the woods to see something called Lookout Point, a lovely view across the south-central Pennsylvania forest. I ran on ahead of the others and missed the path to the Point. I realized I was in danger of getting lost, and turned around. I found my classmates just leaving Lookout Point and, encouraged by our class advisor, ran out to the point to look across at the trees between us and the next mountain.

It was lovely indeed, and I turned to follow my classmates back to the cabin. Except that I took the same wrong path again, and this time I was lost. The sun set and darkness came. I had no idea which way to go. I found out later that my classmates came out looking for me, calling my name. I heard nothing. I burrowed down under the leaves to stay warm in the late spring night. I slept lightly, and when I awoke, I saw a light in the distance. I knew that the sun rises in the east and that the highway was east, so I walked towards the light until I realized it was a beacon on the next hill. I burrowed back under the leaves, trying to ignore the night sounds of animals snuffling in the dark.

Surprisingly, I did sleep, and when I awoke, I walked towards the rising sun and found a road out of the woods. A passing motorist picked me up and took me back to Messiah College, where I called our class advisor (who had gone home for the night). He came and took me to the cabin, where I had a long-delayed meal – breakfast with my classmates.

Looking back, it was a frightening episode, but what I remember most clearly is walking towards the rising sun through the forest cathedral of green and gold. Sunrise was incredibly beautiful, lifting my soul even more than the darkness had oppressed me.

Transition

Lent is one of my favourite times of the year. Other church celebrations don’t have as much space for the difficult nature of daily life, but Lent is all about the difficulty of living. Lent is God’s invitation to enter the wilderness of hardship and trouble. Since we so often find ourselves precisely in that place, Lent is our chance to find God’s presence in our troubles.

We have two passages this morning, one from the annual Jewish ceremony for tithes and offerings found in Deuteronomy 26 and the second from Jesus’ encounter with the devil in the wilderness of Judah, at the beginning of his earthly ministry. As part of considering these two passages, we will use a simple ceremony with stones to apply them to our own lives.

Deuteronomy 26

This passage describes the ceremony in which the Children of Israel were to give themselves to God. The action is described as taking place once – when they enter the land of promise [verse 1: as soon as possible after entering]. The passage also assumes a continued repetition of this offering, possibly on an annual basis. The tithe that is described in the next verses was also a regular offering, but one that was made every three years. We can guess, then, that if the first fruits were not offered each year, they were offered every three years.

The very first offering, made as a celebration of ending their travels in the wilderness, was probably done all together as they crossed the Jordan, as soon as they had established themselves. The annual celebration took place at a central place of worship, probably Shechem.

At that celebration, the priest reminded the people of their history: They came from a nomadic ancestor (Jacob), who left his wanderings to settle in Egypt. The book of Genesis tells us that Jacob (renamed Israel) settled in Egypt because he and his family were threatened with extinction in a great famine. God took them and established them in Egypt, but the Egyptians turned on them and enslaved them.

God again reached into their lives with grace and help to set them free. They travelled through the wilderness for 40 years, during which God preserved them and prepared them to occupy the land God had promised them. This celebration remembers God’s preserving grace and commits the people to serve God in return in all that they do.

I am reminded of a prayer that I often pray in the morning: “Lord, teach [us] to know you better, to love you more, and to serve you with our whole hearts.” The Israelites committed themselves to God as God’s servants. Set free from slavery in Egypt, they embraced slavery to God – much as Paul calls himself (and us), “slaves of Christ”.

Luke 4

The temptation of Jesus is a comforting passage in one sense: We see that Jesus faced the hard questions and troubles of life, just as we do. These were real temptations, not something done for effect, but temptations in which the fate of the universe hung in the balance. You notice the way that Satan moved through the full range of human experience – from physical hunger (all the physical needs that we live with) to political power (all of the social-political temptations we might face) to spiritual worship (a rebuke of the health and wealth gospel, which tries to avoid the problems of life). The simple point is that Jesus has faced all that we face, here and in his entire ministry.

You notice that Jesus responds to the temptation by leaning back on his relationship with his father. He quotes Scripture, and when Satan begins to quote Scripture, Jesus shows how close he is to his father in the way that he shows that he knows what God wants.

You notice also that Jesus experiences temptation when he is physically weakest. Such difficulties come to us when we have few reserves and when we are least able to resist. Jesus walked through the darkest times of life, just as we do. In this beginning to his ministry, we see a foretaste of the cross that he carries at the end.

A Synthesis

We often think of wilderness experiences – the hard times of our lives – as bad things to be avoided. The Children of Israel, on the other hand, looked back on their Wilderness Wanderings as a golden period, the time when God was most visibly with them. The pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by night was a constant reminder of God’s presence. Perhaps we could write a new beatitude: “Blessed are those who are lost in the wilderness, for they will find God.”

As we enter the season of Lent, we remember the wilderness times of our lives. Don’t get me wrong. We don’t ask for these times. I did not want to get lost in the woods at the end of my sophomore year. It led to one last argument with my then girlfriend. She thought (rightly) that I had acted inconsiderately. My carelessness meant that my classmates had to spend time hunting for me and spend the night worrying about me. This is not good!

But my clearest memory of that night is the green and golden dawn, walking through the forest cathedral. God was there, and I would not have been so aware of God’s presence if I had not been lost. This is the gift of the wilderness: To show us that we rest in God’s strength and care, or we die. Jesus knew that, and all of Satan’s tempting could not move him. Moses knew that, and he called Israel to remember it and memorialize it every year.

The Stones

We know that too. In our congregation’s life and in the personal lives of each one here, we have walked through the wilderness more than once. As you came into the sanctuary this morning, you each took a stone. You have written your name on the stones and you have them with you now. You may have been wondering, “When will he tell us what these stones are for?” The answer is, “Right now!”

Hold your stones in your hand. Think of a time you got lost, a time that you spent in the wilderness, a time that you wondered if God would ever show up. I have to remind you that sometimes God does not show himself clearly even in the wilderness. I, like you, have prayed, seeking God’s presence, only to have the words bounce off the ceiling back at me. Remember these times too. [Take a minute of silence to think and to remember.]

We will spend time throughout Lent remembering the wilderness. We will use our stones in a variety of ways to remember – to remember our hard times and to remember God’s presence and grace. This morning, we want to collect your stones with your names on them. I am asking the ushers to come forward with their baskets and collect the stones. 

[Sing our song, “Here by the waters”, while the ushers gather the stones up and arrange them on the back windowsill.] 

A week from today, when you enter the sanctuary, you can find your stone and take it with you to your place. We will use the stones in different ways throughout Lent to remind us of the wilderness and of God’s grace and goodness to us when we are lost.

These stones are multilayered symbols. Sometimes, they mean you and me – the people who meet together in this congregation. Sometimes, they mean the burdens that we carry, just as sometimes we feel as though we are nothing but our problems. Sometimes, they become an altar to God, just as God comes to us through our experiences of the wilderness.

Another Story

At our leadership retreat just before the AGM of MC Manitoba, we had a resource person who led us to think of some problem in our lives, something that was destroying our sense of self, and to write about it on a piece of blank paper. Then, she asked us to turn the paper over and write a letter from Jesus to ourselves about that problem. I thought of a responsibility at school that has left me feeling drained and frustrated. I won't say more about it, but here’s the letter that I wrote for Jesus. That was hard to do – I can’t speak for Jesus. At the same time, I think I know what Jesus was saying to me. A word of explanation to make sense of what I wrote: Eleven years ago, at this time of year, I was in a dark space in my life. It felt a lot like depression, although I think it was something else called “acedia”. The darkness weighed most heavily in the early morning. I would wake up at 2 AM with a deep heaviness pressing me down. Then, one morning during my morning prayers, I heard Jesus’ voice saying, “That weight is all the stuff that has been between us, pressed out of you. I want nothing between us.” I remember clearly my immediate internal response, “Neither do I.” I knew that my relationship with Jesus was the one thing in a hard world that was intact and stable, the centre of my life. So, the letter from Jesus, which I wrote to myself.

Letter from Jesus:

Dear Daryl,

I have been working on you for almost 69 years. You have made some blunders. You have pleased me greatly. You may or may not succeed [in the thing that I wrote about]. It doesn’t matter. Not really. Because you belong to me, and you know it.

Remember that morning I said to you, “I want nothing between us”? I remember your immediate response, “Neither do I.” That’s what matters. You might say, that’s all that matters.

I love you – I always have; always will. “Daryl, son of David, do you love me?” Keep following, my friend.

Jesus

Lent One: March 10

Leader:

Focus Statement: When we enter the wilderness of wandering and temptation, God’s hand delivers us. We confess our trust in a saving God.

Texts

Deut 26: 1-10

Firstfruits

26 When you have entered the land that the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance and have taken possession of it and settled in it, ² take some of the firstfruits of all that you produce from the soil of the land that the Lord your God is giving you and put them in a basket. Then go to the place that the Lord your God will choose as a dwelling for his Name ³ and say to the priest in office at the time, “I declare today to the Lord your God that I have come to the land the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.” ⁴ The priest shall take the basket from your hands and set it down in front of the altar of the Lord your God.

⁵ Then you shall declare before the Lord your God: “My father was a wandering Aramean, and he went down into Egypt with a few people and lived there and became a great nation, powerful and numerous. ⁶ But the Egyptians ill-treated us and made us suffer, subjecting us to harsh labour. ⁷ Then we cried out to the Lord, the God of our ancestors, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our misery, toil, and oppression. ⁸ So the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders. ⁹ He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey; ¹⁰ and now I bring the firstfruits of the soil that you, Lord, have given me.” Place the basket before the Lord your God and bow down before him.

Luke 4: 1-13

Jesus is tested in the wilderness

4 Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, ² where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry. ³ The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.” ⁴ Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone.’”

⁵ The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. ⁶ And he said to him, “I will give you all their authority and splendour; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. ⁷ If you worship me, it will all be yours.” ⁸ Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”

⁹ The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down from here. ¹⁰ For it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; ¹¹ they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’” ¹² Jesus answered, “It is said: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

¹³ When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time.

Steinbach Mennonite Church

10 March 2019

Deut 26: 1-10; Luke 4: 1-13

God’s Healing is at Hand

Christmas is a time of joy, but we know that many people walk in a bubble of darkness through this season of light. I think of my parents many years ago—a young couple in Zambia, who had just buried their eight-month old daughter to malaria. I had not yet been born, but I imagine them hearing the wishes for a good and joyful Christmas, and then returning to their space filled with loss and hurt. I think of a friend and his wife whose prospective son-in-law died in a hiking accident this past summer. As they walk through this Christmas, with one child just married and another child recently bereaved, I imagine that Christmas comes with a mixture of light and darkness. How do we anticipate Christmas when we are broken? Our friends wish us joy. How do we receive God’s joy when sadness and hurt overwhelm us? We turn to two texts—from Isaiah 35 and from Luke 1—to seek for guidance.

Isaiah 35: 1-10

35 The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, ²  it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendour of Carmel and Sharon; they will see the glory of the Lord, the splendour of our God.

³ Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; ⁴ say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.’

⁵ Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. ⁶ Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. ⁷ The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

⁸ And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness; it will be for those who walk on that Way. The unclean will not journey on it; wicked fools will not go about on it. ⁹ No lion will be there, nor any ravenous beast; they will not be found there. But only the redeemed will walk there, ¹⁰ and those the Lord has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

As we have said before, this passage both points to the end of time and as well as to our lives today. Isaiah speaks to people who are facing an uncertain political and spiritual future. The road ahead appears to be a desert, but it will burst into bloom, and they will be filled with joy. Notice who receives strength and joy and healing: “the feeble hands”, “the unsteady knees”, “those who are afraid”, “the blind”, “the deaf”, and “the lame”. God’s joy and healing are there for the people who need it, and for no one else.

This text emphasizes God’s call for holiness (verses 8 and 9): “A highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness; … The unclean will not journey on it; … but only the redeemed will walk there.” The call to holy living is important, but this morning I observe something else also in the text. These people who are in such great physical and emotional need find a way of complete safety, a place where “lions” and “ravenous beasts”, symbols of danger, are not present. Echoing last week’s text (Isaiah 11), it is the blind, deaf, lame, and oppressed who receive God’s full salvation. We turn, then, to Luke 1 and Mary’s Song, a passage we hear often at Advent.

Luke 1: 1-12

⁴⁶ And Mary said: ‘My soul glorifies the Lord ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, ⁴⁸ for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, ⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me – holy is his name.

⁵⁰ His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. ⁵¹ He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. ⁵² He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble.

⁵³ He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. ⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful ⁵⁵ to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.’

Mary sings this song after Angel Gabriel told her that he child would be the Messiah, while she was visiting Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. We have this interesting scene in which John “leaps” in Elizabeth’s womb as he senses the coming of Jesus in Mary’s womb. Then Mary sings her song. Her song sounds a lot like Hannah’s song in 1 Samuel 2: 1 to 10, as she celebrates God’s saving action through the birth of her son, Samuel. This teenage girl celebrates the amazing truth that “the Mighty One”, that is God, has done great things for her—giving her a child before she slept with a man, a child who would save her people, indeed, who would save the world from the power of sin.

This salvation brings down rulers and exalts the humble. It fills the hungry and sends away the rich, leaving them empty. This salvation fulfills the promise that God made to Abraham when God first called Abram and Sarai to leave their home (Genesis 12). Like Isaiah, then, Mary sings of salvation and hope, which comes to those who are broken and empty and helpless here on earth. The climax and point of her song comes in these words from verses 51-53: “He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.”

The Upside-Down Reality of God

This pattern—that God fills the weaker and brings down the stronger—is a theme that runs the whole way through Scripture.

Consider Cain and Abel. Cain is the older brother (Genesis 4); Abel is the younger brother. We can debate why, but the pattern begins here—that God accepts the lower and rejects the higher.

Consider the patriarchs. Abraham’s first son was Ishmael, and his second son was Isaac. God’s line of promised salvation ran through Isaac. Isaac’s first son was Esau and his second son was Jacob. God’s line of promised salvation ran through Jacob. Among the 12 sons of Jacob (“the Children of Israel”), the oldest son was Reuben, but the line of the Messiah ran through the third son, Judah.

Even the way that Jacob’s wives and concubines bore these sons makes the point. Judah’s favourite wife was Rachel, and her son Joseph became great in human terms. One might expect the Messiah to come through Joseph, whose life in the Old Testament serves as a fore-runner of the life of Jesus. Instead, the line of the Messiah runs through Leah, who was the wife less loved (“When the Lord saw that Leah was not loved, he enabled her to conceive”: Genesis 29: 31). Even the priestly line (the Levites) comes from Levi, the son of Leah.

We could continue, but you see the pattern. God regularly chose to work through those who were less valued in human terms. The elder son was always the primary heir. The older son received “a double portion” when his father died, but God chose to work through the younger son and the less loved wife to bring about God’s plan of salvation for the human race.

We see the same pattern in Jesus’ ministry, captured in his well-known words, “the first will be last, and the last first.” What’s going on in this pattern? It reflects another statement with which Jesus described his own ministry (Mark 2: 17): “On hearing this, Jesus said to them, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but those who are ill. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.’” Why does God turn us upside down when God heals us? Because those who are healthy don’t need healing. Because those who are righteous don’t need saving.

Thus Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are the poor [in Spirit], for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven/God.” I remember a quote defining the poor as we meet them in the gospels: “The poor are those who need God’s help and know it.” [I don’t remember the source of the quote.] This truth helps us understand John’s words to the church at Laodicea (Revelation 3: 14-17): “These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realise that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.”

Talking About Ourselves

We are a people who value our ability to get things done. We are a people who value self-sufficiency. A basic reason that the church in North America has become weak is that we see ourselves as strong people, people who do not need a physician, people who do not need a Saviour. But of course we all need God’s help. When life crashes in around us, we realize that we are not able to take care of ourselves. When we see that, God can help us.

The principle is very simple really. We sometimes say, “God helps those who help themselves.” The truth is that God fills those who hold out empty hands. God heals those who embrace their brokenness and come for healing. If you don’t need God, God won’t help you. God helps you only when you discover and own your weakness and brokenness.

I began with the memory of my parents’ loss during their first term of missionary service at Sikalongo, in Zambia. They lost their second-born, their daughter, my sister, Dorothy. One of the consequences of that loss was to deepen their relationship with the people around them at Sikalongo. Many years later, in 2003, I went back to Sikalongo with Lois and our sons. When I met the principal of the school that is there now and he heard my name, he said, “Your parents were David and Dorcas. Your sister is buried there” (pointing to the cemetery.” There is a strong and rich bond that is created only when we have been broken and healed.

Sometimes we think that people who walk in darkness must be afraid of this season of light. But remember words of Isaiah (9: 2) “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”

Are you walking in the darkness of a broken relationship? God has healing and hope for you. Are you living in the darkness of death’s shadow? God brings light to you. Are you struggling to make ends meet? God brings hope for you. This is not a magic formula, but a call to lean on God and discover the life and light that God brings through the birth of Jesus in our lives. Are you walking in darkness? Come, walk in the way of God’s healing.

Steinbach Mennonite Church

11 December 2016