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The
Second In Lent
Readings:
Genesis 17:1-7, 15-19; Romans 4:13-25; Mark 8:31-38 In an old
cartoon, B.C. is down on his knees.
“God,” he says, “If you’re up there, give me a sign.”
Suddenly something falls from the Heavens right in front of him.
A neon sign flashing, “I’m up here!”
If only faith were that easy!
If only God could give us a sign once and for all! If only it
meant giving intellectual assent without worrying about its connection
to our daily lives! If only it meant never doubting!
But the problem is that real faith involves passionate
engagement. It involves
entering a relationship with God. It
involves giving one’s heart to God and holding it actively with love.
It means having enough confidence in its reality to act on it, as
incredible as it may seem. And when all is
said and done, the way we come to faith is by trusting in the promises
of God. We look at our past
history and see where God has been at work in our lives, and use that
knowledge to bring meaning to our existence.
Faith is, after all, intended to be reasonable.
That seems fine
until we come to the difficult choices and tests of life.
When we face times of tragedy, everything we know about faith can
simply vanish. How do we
achieve a vision of faith that sustains us through such times?
It is the reality of the cross that needs to be behind everything
that we do to give us that sense of wholeness, of holiness, that carries
us when nothing else will. Abraham had to
come to that point. At the
age of ninety, he questioned the possibility of making a covenant with
God. “How can I,” he
asks, “believe that at my age I can still become the ancestor of a
multitude of nations?” He
is asked to simply believe that God keeps promises.
God has made that promise to Abram and sealed it with a new name.
God promises also that Sarah, his wife, will bear a son.
Abraham takes God’s word and makes that commitment.
He embraces the gift that God has promised.
And of course, God makes good on the promise.
Paul in writing
to the church at Rome acknowledges that faith is anything but easy. Then he reminds them that faith brings new life – in
Sarah’s case, a new life from a barren womb, and resurrection from the
dead in the case of Jesus. He
goes on to remind them of the necessity of taking up the cross, not in
order to earn salvation. Paul
knows that Jesus has already done that.
They must take up the cross in response to God’s salvation.
That is what leads them, and ultimately us, to the possibility of
resurrection. But does that
possibility even occur to us? We
think about it at Easter, of course.
But what does the risen life of Christ mean in our everyday
existence? How do we allow its truth to speak to us?
Jesus reminds
his disciples of the cost of following him.
It is a reminder of what living in covenant with God means. He reminds them that it begins with denying themselves,
taking up the cross and following him.
As soon as Jesus begins to talk about the cost, about the
possibility of suffering, rejection and ultimately death, the disciples
change their tune. They
like to hear the comfortable words.
But when it comes to cross bearing and dying to sin, then they
miss the real point of their faith.
Let’s face it!
Self-denial is not big on any of our lists.
We have all kinds of questions about what it means.
What self am I denying? Is
it a matter of not doing what I want to do for a while during Lent, and
then going back to what I want to do?
Is it about putting myself down?
What are the rules anyway? Why
should we “give up” during the season of Lent, or indeed at any
time? The cross is at
the heart of our Christian faith. We
were signed with the sign of the cross at Baptism.
What did it mean for us, both as individuals and as a community?
What a paradox it is! For it helps us to understand that dying is
the step we must take in order to really live.
It reminds us that we are called to offer the self to be formed
by God for God’s purposes. Self-denial,
then, is about an alternative way of being.
It is not about giving up for the sake of giving up something. It is not about giving up for a period of time, like Lent and
then going back to the same way of being.
It is a challenge to want something different. Instead of thinking only of ourselves and believing that it
is to our good to gain wealth and avoid any path, which may lead to
suffering, we are challenged to be generous.
We are challenged to give of ourselves, even when it may mean
suffering on our part. We
are reminded that all of that comes at great cost! There are times when
love, if it is to mean anything, will expose us to grave danger.
We are challenged nevertheless to embrace the way of Jesus.
And in doing so, we will find ourselves. We will become truly human.
Christ’s
message is inescapable. Self-denial
is not about the good it does for me.
The sort of giving up that works best is that which has a deeper
purpose behind it. If you
want to give to others, it will almost always involve giving up
something you would rather keep for yourself.
Caring for a sick or elderly relative will almost certainly
involve a loss of time and freedom.
And yet that may be what God is calling you to do.
Giving through the church or other charities means not spending
money on something you might otherwise be able to afford.
Being a good steward of God’s creation may mean taking the time
to walk instead of using your car.
It may mean doing menial labour like picking up garbage.
Being an advocate for the poor and disadvantaged in our community
may mean giving up time to lobby our politicians.
We in this
congregation live a comfortable existence.
We may not be wealthy in Canadian standards, but we have central
heating and hot running water. We
do not go to bed hungry like much of the world.
We dress well. We
live in relative luxury. And
I for one have no real desire to give up any of those things.
The closest I have ever come to being a missionary was teaching
in an Indian Residential school on James Bay.
Even there, when I think about it, the only thing I really gave
up was easy access to the telephone.
However, I would like to think that if God called me to go to
some Third World country to feed refugees or to help grandmothers look
after their grandchildren, orphaned through AIDS, or to bring relief to
people made homeless through some natural disaster, that I would do it.
I would like to think that I am not so accustomed to my lifestyle
that I could not meet that kind of challenge.
The question is, am I so addicted to the comfortable existence I
live, that I have already missed such opportunities?
All I can do is to trust that when God calls I will respond.
Our mission as
Christians is to permeate and transform the world.
Our Lenten journey is about seeking that kind of transformation
in our own spiritual lives so that the transformation can begin with us.
It requires examining our lives for the things that keep us from
changing. May God grant us
grace to deny ourselves and take up our cross and follow Jesus! |