"Lenten Justice" (Zechariah 7:1-14)

First Sunday of Lent, February 21, 2021

 watch - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3iTC7PjH28

            Lent begins today.  Lent is the season of 40 days leading to Easter.  Moses and the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, learning to trust God and live under God’s law.  Of the exodus community, only Joshua and Caleb entered the Promised Land.  All others died in while wandering and their offspring made up the chosen people of God.  Sin was rooted out during the 40 years.  At the beginning of the Gospels, Jesus fasted in the wilderness for 40 days.  He resisted the devil’s temptations and did not sin.  He who was without sin, God’s only Son, died for us. 

Thus, for 40 days during Lent, we commit to spiritual disciplines designed to help us turn away from sin, turn toward God, receive forgiveness, and acknowledge our dependence upon God.  Disciplines are things we do to condition ourselves.  We fast, journal, pray, confess, practice periods of silence, and commit to other disciplines in order to present ourselves to God, contrite, and grateful for his grace.

Zechariah, who we’ve read these past three weeks, contributes to our Lenten worship, but we need to understand one important way he fits in God’s big picture and to do that we have turn back to the law and then forward to the Gospels.

The law of Moses, the Torah, is given in Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, as the people move throughout the Sinai Peninsula.  Then the law is restated in Deuteronomy.  ‘Deutero’ means ‘second,’ and ‘nomos’ means law.  Deuteronomy is a second rendering of the law.  Moses does not repeat every word he said in Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers.  He restates it.  In Deuteronomy, the people are no longer on the move.  That generation has died off, and their children will settle the land.  So Moses restates law as it is fitting for that next generation.

This restating, not repeating, happens throughout the writings the Psalm and the prophets.  They reach back to the law and the later prophets allude to the earlier ones, but do so in a way appropriate and needed in their context.  Jesus does the same.  His “Sermon on the Mount” in Matthew is similar to his “Sermon on the Plain” in Luke, but he changes things up in those different settings.  So too do the Gospels writers change up how they write Jesus’ story based on the needs of their readers.

The foundation of God’s word remains consistent from law to prophets to Gospel.  Leviticus 19:2: God speaks through Moses to the people; “You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.”  This is restated in Deuteronomy 14:2a: “You are a people holy to the Lord your God.”  Jesus has holiness in mind in the Sermon on the Mount when he says, in Matthew 5, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have not come to abolish but to fulfill.  For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished” (5:17-18).  Holiness is God’s standard.

When Haggai and Zechariah prophesy to the people who have come out of exile, they don’t give a new law.  They call the people back to the law that the nation had violated for the centuries leading up to the exile.  God is a “start-over” God.  After the flood, with Noah’s family, God started over.  After using the Babylonian exile to punish His people for generational, systemic rejection of his will and his way, God started over, through the preaching of Haggai and Zechariah, and the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah, and Zerubbabel and Joshua the high priest. 

A cornerstone of the ethical system that guided the people in how to be holy is compassion for the neediest in society.  Again, we see this in Leviticus, restated in Deuteronomy, and then re-emphasized by Jesus.  Leviticus 19, “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest.  You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien.”  Why?  Because, God says, “I am the Lord” (19:9-12).

In several places, Deuteronomy re-asserts this emphasis on kindness to those who need kindness.  Chapter 24 is an example.  “You shall not withhold the wages of poor and needy laborers, whether Israelites or aliens.  … You shall pay them their wages daily before sunset, because they are poor and their livelihood depends on them; otherwise, they might cry out to the Lord against you, and you would incur guilt” (24:14-15).  Did you catch that?  In disputes of justice between the haves and the have-nots, God is not impartial.  God is on the side of the poor.  If that makes you uncomfortable, take it up with Deuteronomy.

If you don’t like Deuteronomy’s answer and want to appeal to a higher court, take it with Jesus.  Throughout the Gospels and especially the Gospel of Luke, he teaches and enacts mercy for the poor and those at society’s margins.  He makes a place in his circle for those rejected by the temple and the king’s court and, today, some churches.  “Blessed are you who are poor,” he says, “for yours is the kingdom of God. … Woe to you who are rich … and full … for you will be hungry; … you will mourn and weep” (6:20-26).  I’ve been criticized for preaching too much ‘social justice’ and not enough ‘gospel.’  This morning, I have just read straight from the law, the prophets, and the gospels.  Social justice is the Gospel; critics can take their complaints straight to the source.

Zechariah’s instruction to rebuild the temple helps the people to once again “be holy” as God commanded them to be.  In chapter 7, the prophet highlights God’s emphasis on social justice.  A delegation made up of Israelites who stayed in Israel during the exile and of Israelites who returned from Babylon approach the prophet.  In verse 3, they ask, if should they continue to practice fasting and lament as they have been doing for years. 

It would be like us having a prophet present and asking, should we keep on observing spiritual disciplines as we have for so many years.  Now that exile was over and work on the new temple had started and communal life in Jerusalem has begun anew, should they carry on the same religious disciplines?  In a few months, we might ask, now that most people have received vaccines and cases are way down and things are opening, what do we do?  What do we do now?  That’s essentially what this delegation in Zechariah 7 asked and their question pertained specifically to spiritual practices. 

Through his prophet God responds to a question with a question, a penetrating question.  When you fasted, was it really for me (v.5)?  Does God need us to fast?  When you feasted, wasn’t that for yourselves (v.6)?  Much like us, the ancient Israelites found the communal feasting easier and more enjoyable than the communal fasting.  In answering these questions, God connects the importance of worship at special times with the everyday necessity of justice for the poor, widow, and orphan.  Both the prophets Amos and Isaiah reject the ritual of fasting when the worshipping community neglected the poor. 

Zechariah alludes to this disconnect and failure by the people in verses 11-14.  When we neglect the poor, God refuses to hear us.  The call to justice, voiced by the prophets, is a call that comes from the Spirit.  To ignore it is to ignore God and God won’t be ignored.  God won’t hear our prayers or empower us in our practice of spiritual disciplines if we neglect the things God values.

The threat of God’s anger only becomes punishment and a break in the relationship with God if the people revert back to the selfish ways that cut them off from God before the exile.  There is an opportunity for hope in verse 9.  The temple is being built, the community is being restored, and in the tradition of Leviticus and Deuteronomy and Amos and Isaiah and Ezekiel and to be later taken up by Jesus, Zechariah re-issues the call to justice.  Verse 9: “Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another; do not oppress the widow, the orphan, or the poor.”  

Just as the building of the temple sets worship at the center of community life in Zechariah 1-6, this response, tying the post-exile community to the teachings of Moses and the previous prophets sets justice for the poor as a top ethical principle for the people of God.  Jesus does the same in his practices and in his teaching.  And the call to holiness and the prioritizing of care for the poor are central for us, a community of his followers. 

Fasting, confession, prayer, journaling – I support all of these as spiritual disciplines for you to undertake during Lent.  I propose that working for social justice and a concrete commitment for how you will show compassion to the poor must be regular, not an occasional, part of a disciple’s life.  We commit to advocate for and care for the neediest in our society, and like Zechariah, we find our place in the tradition of God’s people.  If, on the other hand, we try to practice a faith that’s strictly individualistic and utterly separated from loving our neighbor and helping people who need help, then we’re living a lie, proclaiming a faith that’s not Biblical, and God says in Zechariah 7, he will not hear us. 

It’s Lent, time to appreciate the grace God has shown us in Jesus.  We cannot live in harmony with God or neighbor apart from him.  So, take up disciplines, practices that will turn your mind, body, and heart fully to Jesus.  Make sure care for underprivileged, underserved, and disadvantaged is included in your Lenten practice. 

AMEN 

"Hillside Trust" (Matthew 4:1-11)

Watch here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2Bx0I5SXCU

Sunday, March 1, 2020 – Lent 1

            “Then the devil left him, and angels came and waited on him.”  That’s the end of the story.  Put yourself way out in the desert in Jesus’ shoes.  Instead of it being Jesus, it’s the same story, but you’re the one who’s out there. 

You’ve fasted to the point of being utterly famished, no food for 40 days.  The devil comes when you are at your weakest.  What’s God doing to help you through this impossibly hard trial?  You gut it out.  You stay faithful to God.  You stay true.  Finally,  the devil gives up for the time being and departs.  And then the angels come with assistance.  If it were me in Jesus’ place, I would have wanted help much earlier.

            Following Matthew’s story, we have just seen Jesus raised up out of the waters of the Jordan river.  Dripping wet from his baptism, he then saw the Heavens opened, the Holy Spirit came down, and a voice from Heaven, God the Father, said, “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (3:17). 

This did not happen when I got baptized.  Do you remember your baptism?  Mine came in summer of 1981, and in my memory, it has a mystical quality, but nothing like what we see in Matthew 3.  The Holy Spirit and the voice of God the Father combine to validate the arrival of God the son.  It’s a trinitarian moment and an incarnational moment all in one!

            But then, the Holy Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.  No navy SEAL training can compare with the ordeal Jesus had to endure in preparation for his ministry.  Forty days of fasting left him famished.  Add to that that he was way out in the wastelands.  Out there, you need sustenance so you have the energy to make the grueling hike back to civilization.  He didn’t soften the edges of his life to make the extreme fast more bearable.  He didn’t situate himself in comfortable surroundings.  He fasted to the point of collapse while desert walking.  At his weakest, that’s the point the devil showed up.

            The devil’s temptations of Jesus recall the serpent’s visit to Eve in Eden, found in Genesis chapter 3. 

            The serpent asked Eve, “Did God really say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’” (3:1)?  From that very minute she was in trouble because of what she didn’t do.  She did not say, “Hey, God, help me here.  I don’t know this serpent and He’s calling your promises into question. What do I do?”  She didn’t do that.  She looked at that serpent and she thought, “I got this.”

            She explained to the serpent that God gave plenty of fruit trees and that they were only to avoid the one in the center of the garden for if they ate from that one, they would die.  The serpent said, “You will not die.”  Again, Eve didn’t say, “Hey, God, help me.  This thing just told me something different than what you promised.”  She didn’t do that.  Instead, she started thinking about the serpent’s ideas.  “Your eyes will be opened.  You will be like God.  You will have knowledge of good and evil.” 

            On her own, apart from God, Eve decided to deal with the serpent’s temptation.  Before long, she was thinking the serpent’s thoughts.  She didn’t tell him how things were in the garden and in the world.  She saw how good that fruit looked and she took a bite.  As the juice ran down her chin, she discovered what people have discovered ever since.  In temptation, there’s some truth.  Her eyes and Adam’s eyes were opened, just as the serpent said they would be.  However, the man and the woman gained their new knowledge apart from God.  They immediately saw each other in new ways.  In communion with God, they saw one another as beautiful creations there to be loved.  Acting apart from God, they saw in each other a nakedness that needed to be covered up, hidden.  Then, they tried to hide from God.  They had never felt the need to do that before.

            That serpent didn’t do anything special.  He just told half-truths that lured the first humans away from God’s full truth.  Their own lack of trust in God did the rest.  Eve, didn’t trust God’s word enough to resist the lie embedded in the temptation.

            Adam and Eve were living in paradise, Eden, when they fell.  Jesus, ravaged by unbearable hunger, found himself in desert wastelands.  He would later on say these words to his disciples in Matthew 7, “Is there any among you who, if your child asks for bread will give a stone?  Or if the child asks for a fish will give a snake?  If then, you who are evil, know how to give good things to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him” (v.9-11).  He trusted that God would provide him what he needed.

            The devil’s first temptation is “if you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread” (v.3).  We just heart at the baptism which happens right before this hungry desert sojourn that a voice from Heaven declared him to be God’s Son.  The devil calls that into question and then tells Jesus to do what Eve did: act apart from God.  He didn’t tell Jesus to ask God for food.  He told him to command the stones to become bread. Jesus trusted that his father would give good things.  He declares he needed the word of God for life as much as he needed food in his belly.

            Next, Jesus allows himself to be led.  The Holy Spirit had led him out to be tempted.  So, Jesus faces the temptation.  The devil leads him to the highest point in the Jerusalem, the hilltop where the temple sits.  Jesus is told to fling himself off the pinnacle of the temple, a suicide jump.  Quoting Psalm 91, the devil tells Jesus angels will save him.  It’s not a complete a lie.  As we already read, at the end of this story, angels do come to help him.  But not yet! 

            The devil is using scripture for his own means, something we do all the time.  In political arguments or in church conflicts, we see our opponents as God’s opponents.  It’s “them” vs. “us,” and we always cast our side as the side of scripture.  We totally ignore the fact that our opponent uses the same Bible to defend a position opposite ours.  We’re not supposed to use the Bible.  The devil did that with this second temptation.  We are to submit to the God we meet in the pages of the Bible.  The Bible is not here to support our positions.  The Bible is to be a way the Spirit forms us in the image of Christ.  Jesus knew he was in the desert to be tested.  He wasn’t there to test God.  He trusted God and resisted the devil.

            In his third effort, the nefarious tempter brought Jesus to the top of a high mountain and from there gave him a vision of all the great kingdoms of the earth.  If Jesus bowed in worship before the devil, all these kingdoms would be given to him.  Whether the devil could deliver on such an absurd offer is beside the point.  Jesus knew the first commandment: we shall have no other gods before the Lord our God.  We worship him alone.  There’s nothing the evil one could offer that would deter Jesus from his singular devotion to glorify God.  He trusted that worshiping God is better than possessing power.

            Note too, God had given Jesus a mission – to die for the sins of the world.  Jesus would eventually be recognized as king of kings and lord of lords.  But first, he had to save the world.  The devil had him skipping the cross and going straight to the throne.  Jesus rejected this deception trusting that God’s story is the better story.

            Finally, the devil left the scene, and then the angels came to take care of all Jesus’ needs.  As I said, were I in Jesus’ shoes, I would have been just as happy to have the angels show up at the very beginning.  Jesus modeled confidence and faith in God’s plan even when trust appeared to be difficult. 

            In baptism, we are adopted as sons and daughters of God, and the Holy Spirit takes up residence in us.  Do we believe this?  If we say we do, then do we also believe this is for the best?  Do we trust this story for our lives is true and do we trust that it is best life we can have?

            In the desert, on the hillside, Jesus put all his trust in the heavenly father.  We might think, ‘well he, he’s Jesus.  We’re not.’  That’s true.  But we have this advantage.  We know where the story leads.  He defeated the devil and resisted temptation.  Later on, the night that he knows he will be arrested, the devil tempts him again.  Jesus is the second person of the Trinity, God the Son, in human flesh.  Being fully human, the abandonment by his disciples broke his heart.  The coming trial and crucifixion scared him.  The devil played on this and in anguished prayer, Jesus asked for another way.  We know God did not offer another way, and so Jesus went to the cross to take our death on himself. 

            We also know a few days, later, resurrected, he walked out of tomb.  On the cross he defeated Satan and sin.  In resurrection, he defeated death.  Just as he took our death on himself, he shares his resurrection with us.  We can be strengthened by this promise when the devil comes to tempt us, if we believe the story and trust that the Holy Spirit is with us. 

            That’s where the trust Jesus demonstrated transfers to us.  In this crazy political season, Democrats and Republicans are trying to sell a number of different narratives to the American public.  Advertisers sell narratives which put the product or experience they’re selling at the center of the story.  All these peddlers of stories want you to believe that the story they tell is the one you need to be in.  You need to adjust your life to live out that story. 

            What I’m suggesting is that Jesus, even flattened by hunger as he was, rejected the devil because he rejected the devil’s narrative.   He did that because he trusted that God’s story is the better story.  As we close, I invite you to think about this. For your life, is God’s story the better story?  Do you believe your hope for a happy, blessed life will be found walking the pathway of Jesus?  One thing is clear.  It can’t be both.  We cannot walk the way of the politician or the way of the propagandist or the way of the advertiser and walk the way of Jesus?  We have to decide which narrative we’ll embody. 

Don’t come and say all the ways the way of Jesus is opposite of the politician you oppose.  Notice all the ways the way of Jesus opposes the politician you’re voting for.  Then you’ve really cast your lot with the Savior.  You can still vote for whomever.  As citizens, we should participate in our democracy.  We do it remembering our eternal destiny is to live as subjects in the eternal kingdom of God under the merciful, just rule of King Jesus.  That story defines us and determines how we live. 

Decide which narrative is yours, the story will you live into.  Take this time to pray, asking God to help you trust the story he has for you. 

AMEN

"A God Story" (Genesis 9:8-17) - First Sunday of Lent

This weekend Black Panther opens, the latest blockbuster movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.             I remember the opening scene in the first Avengers movie, my favorite in the series of super hero films.  In Avengers, the villain Loki has been transported from Asgard to Earth.  Asgardians live thousands of years and possess superhuman strength. 

            Nick Fury, a military leader here on earth, senses that Loki has bad intentions and intercedes.  He says to the Asgardian, “We of Earth have no quarrel with your people.” 

            Loki responds with a smirk.  “An ant has no quarrel with a boot.”

            Concerned, Fury says back, “Are you planning to crush us?”

            Fury was eventually able to call on Earth’s mightiest heroes, the Avengers, to defeat Loki and his malevolent army. 

            Noah did not have any Avengers he could call.  Even if he did, the God he faced was much more powerful than Loki. 

            The Noah account begins in Genesis chapter 6.  “The Lord saw that the wickedness of humankind was great in the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually.  And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.  So the Lord said, ‘I will blot out from the earth the human beings I have created – people together with animals and creeping things and birds of the air, for I am sorry that I have made them” (6:5-7).

            But, God decided to spare Noah and his family.  There were no Avengers for Noah to call. Instead, God told him to build a vessel, the Ark.  In it, Noah, his family, and a male and female of each animal would ride out the flood. 

Producers of Christian children’s books and Christian children’s toys have made a lot of money on the flood story.  A child happily makes his little toy giraffes and little toy hippos and little toy kangaroos march and hop onto his little toy ark. 

The game changes when we imagine what’s happening outside the ark.  The rainwaters become floodwaters.  A child’s story?  No!  This is a story of the worst genocide in human history.  The perpetrator of the crime is God.  Yes, the floodwaters eventually recede.  Yes, at the end, the ark comes to rest on Mount Ararat and the animals come off and in no time, the world is dried up and repopulated.  Even so, this is the single-worst episode of mass-murder in human history.

Do we question God? 

The flood story is complicated.  I’ve read those delightful pop-ups books to my own kids, but when we close the child’s book, tuck the child into bed, and then in the dark house, we dare to sit in the night in our adult thoughts, and we find the story of Noah and the flood to be very troubling. 

The story begins with a parade of animals and ends with a sky filled with color – literally every color in the rainbow.  Enjoy the image. 

Now, ponder this: what is that rainbow for?  It’s a reminder.  Never again will the world be destroyed by a flood.  Who is the rainbow intended to remind? 

“God said, ‘This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you for all future generations; I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.  When I bring the clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between you and me and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.  When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember’” (9:12-16a).

A reminder for God?  What, is God going to forget and accidently flood the world again?  Does God forget things?  No?  Then why does God himself decide he needs a reminder.  We put post-it notes around our house.  “Remember the grocery list.” “Remember to pick I__ up at cross-country practice.”  God puts a rainbow in the sky.  Oh yeah.  Don’t the flood earth and bring complete destruction again. 

This is a God story.  This is not a story of water.  This is not a story about animals.  This not a story about a guy in a boat with his family.  All those things are in this story.  But, the force that moves the story along is God’s reactions to the emotions humans produce in Him.

Human beings have no say in the covenant at the end of the story, and no responsibility in the covenant.  God is having an internal conversation within God’s own self.  We could go extinct or continue on.  It matters.  But, we are voiceless and powerless. 

God initiates the covenant and we must accept God’s terms.  God declares what God will not do again.  We cannot prevent another flood.  We can only pray that God will keep the promises He made to himself.  But it is not just us.  This covenant goes beyond Noah and his family.  It is a covenant with all of humanity.  Moreover, the covenant expands beyond humans.  It is for all creatures.  God initiates the covenant, sets the terms, carries it out, and sets the reminder – the rainbow. 

The disturbing nature of the story as well as the complete one-sidedness of the covenant both declare the same truth.  God is much more complicated than we ever understood or considered. 

We read Hebrews 13:8.  “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”

And the prophet Malachi, chapter 3, verse 6.  “For I the Lord do not change.”

We recall one of the praise songs we sing in worship.  “Incomparable, unchangeable, you see the depths of my heart and you love me the same; you are amazing God.”

Unchangeable?  Genesis 1:31: “God saw everything that he had made and indeed it was very good.”  Then, Genesis 6:6.  “And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth.”  From, “[the Lord] saw … indeed it was very good” to “the Lord was sorry” to “I will blot out from the earth the human beings I have created.”

And God did blot out all life, except Noah and his families and his floating zoo.  From “I will blot out” we arrive after the flood at “Never again.  Never again will there be a flood to destroy the earth.”  Never again.

In our Ash Wednesday worship we heard the word of God from the prophet Joel who asked, “Who knows whether or not God will relent – change His mind – and leave a blessing instead of destruction” (2:12, paraphrased)?

In another Bible story easily adapted to children’s ministry, the story of Jonah and the whale, God clearly changes God’s mind.  The condemned Ninevites repent of their sin, and we read in Jonah 3:10, “When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil ways, God changed his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them and he did not do it.”

God is a distinct personality.  God is not an undefined force or a pantheistic realty.  God is distinct.  God is personal.  God experiences God’s creation dynamically.  Because God is paradoxical, we can read those quotes from Hebrews and Malachi and talk about God as unchanging, but at the same time all we need to do is read Noah or the account of Moses or the prophets, Joel and Jonah, or the agonizing life of the prophet Jeremiah, or the unanswerable questions in the book of Job, or the frustrations and joys, the highs and lows in the life of Jesus.  Throughout the Bible, one thread never ceases to be seen.  God is dynamic, not static. God has new experiences and reacts to them.

This is terrifying.  We don’t know what God will do next.  God is emotional.  On Ash Wednesday, we heard from the prophet Nahum that God gets enraged. 

Here in Genesis, we see God heartsick.  I wish I could see the pristine purity of creation before sin entered the world God made.  God, in Genesis 6, wishes He could go back a few chapters, back to that time when he looked at what he made and saw that it was very good.  All I can do is wistfully imagine such a paradise.  When God wishes something, God makes it happen, using the flood as a do-over.

I cannot rationalize the horrific notion of a God so angry he wipes out all life on earth.  There is no explanation.  If you want to take God to task on this, do so.  Through eyes blurry with tears and with a heart on fire, confront God in your prayers.  Demand answers.  I don’t have them.

What I have and you have is the story open before us.  In chapter 6, verse 6, God sees that “every inclination of the thoughts of human hearts was only evil continually.” 

Flip to chapter 8.  The flood waters have receded.  Noah is off the ark and offers up an offering.  It says in 8:21 God is pleased with Noah’s worship.  Then God says, “I will never again curse the ground because of humankind, for the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth; nor will I ever again destroy every living creature on earth as I have.”

God does not apologize for the flood.  Human beings have not changed after the flood.  The condition that drove God to such a drastic do-over, the evil in every human heart, remains.  The only change in the story is the change that happens in God.  We sing “Unchangeable.”  Unchangeable?  Thank God, God most certainly did change.  Is it terrifying that God is unpredictable?  Oh yes.  Is the change that happens in God our only hope?  Most definitely.

God experiences the creation He has made.  God goes through things with humans, with animals, with the world.  We’ve referred to God as “enraged” in Nahum.  We can picture Jesus laughing as he tells some of the parables or holds children in his arms or jokes while fishing with the disciples.  We sense the pride of God as he sees the creation and declares it “very good.”  And in this flood story, we read that the Lord was “grieved” deep in his heart, sorry that he had made human beings.  But even in his frustration, we recall Hosea 11 where God says, “How can I give you up, O Israel?  My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender” (v.8).

God is emotional and personal, and God goes through these experiences in relationship.  Our hope is found in trusting that God stays true to God’s own self and God’s own word.  Easter is the best evidence that we can trust God.

After the flood, God saw that human beings are evil.  In the Exodus, as God rescued the chosen people, they sinned repeatedly.  Settled in the Promised Land, they ignored the prophet Samuel’s words that God should be their king and instead followed King Saul, whose reign was a disaster.  Crushing defeat to Assyria, exile in Babylon, and the humiliation Roman rule in the land of Israel all came, yet humanity continually rejected God’s rule.  But God continually loved humanity. 

So much does God love us, God came as one of us.  The Avengers’ enemy, Loki, compared humans to ants and himself, the boot.  The real God, creator of heaven and earth, became ant – condescended to walk the earth as a man, Jesus of Nazareth.  What did humanity do?  Crucify him.  What was God’s response?  He counted the crucifixion as a worthy sacrifice that covered the punishment for sins and took the place of death of all humans of all time.  He forgave all sin, rose from death, and invites all who put their faith in Jesus to be adopted as sons and daughters of God. 

In the flood story, did God learn a lesson about how to relate to humans, flawed creatures as we are?  I don’t know if your theology allows for God to “learn” things or even have new experiences.  At the very least, see that God feels deep, lasting love toward you.  God knows exactly who you are, all your good points of which there are many; all your foibles and faults; your beauty marks and warts; God knows you.  And, God loves you completely. 

When He sees the rainbow, he remembers to not allow his holy anger over sin lead to destruction.  When he sees Jesus on the cross, he remembers that he has forgotten – forgotten all our sins.  When he sees the cross and then looks at you and me, he sees us as righteous.  Our relationship with Him is made right. 

That’s how the God story ends.  Human beings, those created in the image of God, are reconciled to God by the death of Jesus and brought into eternal life in the resurrection of Jesus.  The flood story becomes a Lent-Easter story, the God story becomes our salvation story.  God draws us into an eternal embrace where death ends in “never again,” and life is without end.

AMEN

Filled and Hungry (Luke 4:1-13)

First Sunday of Lent, February 14, 2016

            Jesus fed 5000 people with just a few pieces of bread. Miraculously, he multiplies the food.  With one boy’s lunch, he feed the equivalent of a small town’s population.  How can he do this? 

Well, he can do it because he’s God in human flesh.

            With his disciples, he was out on a boat on the Sea of Galilee, water in all directions.  The winds beat against the men as the try to control their vessel in the face of angry waves.  As the boat is tossed to and fro, the men panic.  Jesus sleeps through it all until they wake him.  Then he commands the storm to be silent, and it obeys.  A raging storm at sea; how can he control it? 

He is God in human flesh.

            He had a good friend, Lazarus, and Lazarus died.  He was buried.  He was in the tomb for 4 days.  Jesus comes and calls him back to life.  It works!  Lazarus walks out of the grave. 

Jesus is God in human flesh.

            He gives blind people their site!  God in human flesh.

            So, we are not really expecting it when we see him tempted in Luke 4.  It’s not like you or me.  We are tempted by greed or anger or by hurt or by a thirst for revenge or by lust or by any of a 100 other things that lead us to destructive behavior.  Not Jesus. 

            In Luke, Jesus is born as all babies are.  In Luke, he is a teenager who worries his mother to death.  He is baptized and something happens to him when the Holy Spirit descends on him (3:22).  He experiences a change with the coming of the Spirit.  The Jesus we meet in Luke is very human. 

            Filled with the Holy Spirit, he is also led by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness, without provision.  What fool would go on a 40-day camping trip without any supplies?  Jesus.  But he didn’t go of his own volition.  Forty days without eating is more than fasting.  That’s starvation.  Imagine how badly your body would feel.  Jesus’ body felt that weak.  He had hunger pains.  He experienced that as a human experiences things.

            All the while, the devil openly tempted him.  I don’t think the devil appeared as a hideous beast.  That would be scary, not tempting.  No, I think the devil was inviting – encouraging Jesus in ways that sounded sensible. 

The devil offers food; Jesus was starving.  The devil offers authority; Jesus’ mission was to announce the kingdom of God.  Maybe it would be easier to announce “mission accomplished,” from the position of ruler of the world.  The devil challenges Jesus’ faith.  If you are the son of God, his angels will protect.  Do you hear the echo of Eden?  You won’t die if eat the fruit of this tree.  I know God said you would, but you won’t.  You’ll become like God.

Eve ate the forbidden fruit.  And she did not die, not in that moment any way.  Just as the serpent promised, she had vision she did not previously possess.  However, the first thing she saw was that she had disobeyed the God who created her and loved her.  Naked means more than unclothed.  She sinned and then she could see what she had done.

Satan’s temptations are half-truths and appear attractive.  Why should Jesus starve out here?  It makes no sense.  Why not accept the devil’s offer to rule all the kingdoms of the world?  Think of the good you could do.  Why not show all of Jerusalem who you are as angels carry you safely from the pinnacle of the temple to the ground?  Then everyone will know who you are.  Why not?

Obviously, we the readers can say “why not.”  We sit in the comfort of our heated building on our cushioned chairs as we read this.  We worship in a nice place and as we do, we make plans for lunch in nice restaurants.  There is a certain ease and from this luxury we form our opinions and draw our conclusions.  I say without judgment on us.  This is merely an observation.  From where we are it is easy to gaze into a story and with hindsight declare how clear and simple the ethical and moral choices are. 

What if we read it in a place that’s not so nice? 

Starting right now, don’t eat again until Easter Sunday.  Not a bite.  Don’t go indoors.  From now until March 27, fast and pray.  Jesus was tempted.  The urge to turn those stones to bread was real and strong.  He had emptied himself of his divinity.  How did this human being resist?  It is surprising, when we think about it, to imagine that Jesus truly was as human as your or I are. 

Another surprising thing is the paradox displayed in Jesus in this story.  By paradox, I do not mean “fully God and fully human at the same time.”  But, I do mean two things were going on in Jesus.  Two very different dynamics were at work in him.  I think a similar paradox exists for us when we want to follow Jesus, but we do this in a world that is lost and is in the late stages of corruption because of sin.  Sin has built up over the generations and the world is on the verge collapse.  In this place, that is not so nice, we are witnesses and we are disciples.

The paradox.

Jesus ate nothing for 40 days and true to his habit of understatement, Luke grandiloquent method of portraying this is to write he was hungry.  No kidding. 

Jesus was starving.  At the same time, he was full.  Luke begins this passage about temptation in the desert by telling us Jesus was filled with the Holy Spirit.  He begins the next passage where Jesus is back in Jerusalem, again declaring Jesus to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  Jesus was filled and hungry at the same time.

Why could he calm storms at sea, restore the sight of the blind, and miraculously feed multitudes with a few loaves and fish?  You know what I said a moment ago.  He could do it because he was God in human flesh.  But what if that’s not the answer?  What if incarnation means he really did step out of his divinity?  What if the miracles happened because he was Spirit-filled? 

He didn’t just flip a switch and turn on his godself whenever that was needed.  Jesus is God, but he related to God from the standpoint of being human.  He depended on the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit.  He moved at the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  He submitted to the authority of the Holy Spirit. 

It’s a paradox, Jesus (God) relating to God as a human relates to God.  And it leads to another paradox.  Jesus is starving and filled at the same time.  We get caught off guard by Jesus’ humanity.  This idea of starving and fulfillment together in the same person – and the two conditions, starvation and satisfaction relating directly to the other – also surprises us. 

Maybe the most surprising thing is that we can be filled as Jesus was.

The writer of this Gospel, Luke, is also the author of the book of Acts.  There we read about baptism in the Holy Spirit.   In Acts 2, the Holy Spirit takes hold of a few 1000 of Jesus’ followers who are in Jerusalem at the time of Pentecost.  Spirit-filled, they preach the Gospel, and that day 1000’s turn to faith in Jesus Christ. 

In both the Gospel and in Acts, Luke tells the story of Jesus and the early church, but he did not simply write this to show what happened.  He tells us that he shares this so that we, the readers, will know the truth (Luke 1:3).  And he ends his writing at the end Acts with Paul under house arrest in Rome.  Luke’s verse says, Paul live in Rome for two years “proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance” (28:31).

It’s an odd ending; not really an ending at all.  He doesn’t tell of Paul’s death.  He simply tells of Paul preaching.  Why could Paul, while arrested, preach without hindrance?  It is not because he was God in the flesh.  He wasn’t.  He could do it because he was filled with the Spirit.

We, like Paul and like Jesus, can be filled with the Spirit.  Does it mean we will feed 5000 with one child’s bag lunch or bring raging ocean storm to a quiet calm or raise the dead?  When we are Spirit-filled like Jesus, do we do those things?  I don’t know.  I won’t say, No, we do not.  I will say we can stand as Jesus stood: dependent on the Spirit, prompted by the Spirit, and submitted to the Spirit. 

At times this means, like Jesus, we will be hungry, starving even, while we are filled.  Each year during Lent, Christians focus on spiritual disciplines and that can include fasting or giving something up in order to focus on the Lord.  But the hunger is more than the desire for food that comes with a fast, even one as extreme as Jesus endured.  The hunger is for God’s Kingdom; they Kingdom come, they will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.  We want it so badly, we pray for it over and over. 

This is what Jesus meant in the Sermon in the Mount when he said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (Matthew 5:5).  The devil knew Jesus hungered for this and tried to persuade him with this.  The devil offered food – turn the stones to bread; and power – I will give you the glory of all the kingdoms of the earth; and spectacle – throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple so all Jerusalem will see the angels catch you.

Jesus wanted to multiply food to the hungry.  Power and would enable him to show the world the ways of God.  But, he knew to do these things on the devil’s timetable would amount exalting the devil as God.  He was able to resist because of the power of the Spirit in Him.

Let that settle on the mind.  The power in Christ during his ministry in his time on earth is available to us.  I won’t say it can be ours because they power is the presence of God and God is never ours to hold.  But, when we fully confess our sins and turn from them and when we open our hearts to God and when we hunger for his Kingdom and long for His presence, then we are ready to be filled the Spirit. 

No the Holy Spirit is not ours.  We belong to the Spirit.  We are prompted by the Spirit.  And in those seasons when we aren’t sure what to do the Spirit seems quiet and feels absent, then we go to prayer and other disciplines if needed.  We present ourselves fully before the Lord.

This is where we end on this first Sunday of Lent.  As we move into a time of singing, each of us invited to come without hesitation and holding nothing back.  Come before the Lord.  Come open, asking to be filled.  I end with prayer.

Holy Spirit of God, in this moment, we lay ourselves before you.  Remove all doubts, distractions, and obstacles.  Come to us, forgive us, fill us, and lead us.  This we pray in Jesus’ name.

AMEN