Fifth Sunday of Lent—The Windshield

Sometimes I forget that, just a few years ago, cars did not have air conditioning. We only had floor vents, vent windows, and fan. Today, without the vent windows or floor vents, we depend on air conditioning to regulate our comfort.

As amazing as that is, it is even harder to believe that the car was invented without a windshield. Hats, goggles, scarves, dusters, and gloves were part of automobile wear. Quickly though the windshield became an essential part of the driving experience. Later space program technologies merged glass and plastic to give us the modern molded transparent shield that, by protecting us from the elements, insects, and flying debris, makes modern highway speeds comfortable.

There is that problem of being able to see through it. Rain, snow, fog, frost, and dirt impede our vision and make driving dangerous. Windshield washers, wipers, and defrosters are standard equipment because it is important to be able to see clearly where we are going.

One day while driving I encountered part of the monarch butterfly migration. At first, I saw the many beautiful butterflies. Then in seconds they were all over my windshield obscuring the road. I felt sad by the many deaths recorded on my windshield, but so grateful for the windshield fluid and wipers that saved my life.

Similarly, although we remember the days before the ELCA and before women were able to be ordained and although we remember changes in the way we worship and the frequency of celebrating Eucharist, we often forget that there was a time before God’s justifying work in Jesus. There was a time when we tried to live righteously enough on our own to merit God’s eternal love. It did not take long, historically speaking, to realize the need for a better way of seeing God’s way for us.

With the cleansing waters of baptism, with wipers of forgiveness, and the defrosting breath of the Holy Spirit, Christ’s window to God’s resurrection world is revealed before us, and we can clearly see through the debris that would obscure our vision.

One of the earliest commands of the church, given to Paul for his Gentile ministry, is to remember the poor. We are reminded of these words from Galatians when, at the end of worship, we hear, “Go in peace. Remember the poor.”

In a world without windshields, the poor are to be avoided, but looking through the windshield of Christ, the poor are given to us as a gift and an immediate ministry opportunity. Social injustice and prejudice become opportunities for speaking the gospel and lifting up the social dead into the possibilities of resurrection living.

As we drive along the ways of Christ’s glorious leading, let us be mindful of the vision ahead and remember that our view is through Christ, in his suffering death and resurrection.

Day 28: Saturday, Week 6—Judge not, Lest

Habakkuk 3:2-13; Psalm 51:1-12; John 12:1-11

In 2002, Sue and I packed up our 1995 Buick Century with our Norwegian Elkhound for a couple of weeks in DeSoto, Missouri to get some rest and do some writing having forgotten about the tornado that had passed through not long before. Hiking paths were still closed because of fallen trees. At worship in DeSoto that Sunday, the congregation was just rededicating their space for worship after significant damage.

Whenever a natural disaster strikes, I hear some “religious” leader talking about God’s judgment against whoever is affected. Rarely do I hear about God acting for the sake of the people.

Certainly there had been destruction, yes lives were lost, and the people were grieving, but the people were also rebuilding structures and their relationships with one another.

Are we to believe that each natural destructive event is a judgment against? If an avalanche occurs and no one is hurt, do we thumb our noses and say, “You missed?” Was the flooding of New Orleans during Huricane Kate or the recent hurricane damage in Texas, Florida, and Puerto Rico a judgment against these places, or was it a wake up call for the rest of our nation to pay attention to our corporate complicity in contributing to climate change endangering God’s people. Did recent storms really say something about the people there, or did it say something to us?

There is not much that we can do to protect ourselves from tornados except warnings, but the conditions of these other places were apparent and reported long before the events took place. Where were we then?

In today’s reading, I think that Habakkuk may have the right idea. We stand in awe of God’s work. Devastation runs before God; and God acts in ways to lift up and save the people.

In the places of destruction we see God’s hand in lifting up the oppressed, in walking with the grieving, in building new relationships of hope. We will continue to hear about floods in the Dakotas and down the Mississippi Valley. There will be tsunamis and earthquakes around the world. If we aren’t challenged as a world community to come to their aid, then the judgment is on us. Christ has come so the world might be saved. We have a long way to go.

Prayer

Lord, we thank you for judging us with mercy. Help us to be merciful too. Amen

Day 27: Friday, Week 5—Paddling the Waters of Baptism

Exodus 30:1-10; Psalm 51:1-12; Hebrews 4:14-5:4

My home congregation youth group took a yearly canoe trip. When we got to camp, we would go to cabins and then down to the lake where we learned to select a paddle, how to use it, and water safety. Then we got into canoes to practice our technique.

For many, it was the first time they were in a canoe. For some it was old hat, but the goal was to learn our group strengths and weaknesses.

The following day, we traveled by van with our canoes to the drop off point. There we sorted out our gear, loaded the canoes and started our journey down stream to our pick up point.

At the beginning of the trip we were clumsy and slow, but by the end of the trip we were fairly accomplished. What was most apparent though was the ability of the group to work together in order to get something done.

During the time together people shared life stories, taught one another ways of getting things done and shared strengths (literally, when portaging, and figuratively, with patience and understanding).

People who had no camping or canoeing experience at the beginning of the trip came home with new found abilities. Many returned with greater tolerance and understanding of others. It started with leadership and training, but it became the shared work of all.

Today we are told that we have a high priest in the person of Jesus Christ. He has come to know our shortcomings and failings. He has not failed himself, but continues to instruct and teach by his leading.

We often claim that we cannot do the tasks of witness and evangelism or that we are not good teachers, singers or readers. Our fear of incompetence prevents us from putting our paddles in the water. Our fear is greater than our commitment to the journey we share.

In the waters of baptism we have been called by our great high priest to serve one another so let us approach God’s throne with boldness. We are assured of mercy and grace. Together we have been given all of the gifts we need to succeed.

Prayer

Lord, you came that we might learn your ways of salvation. Give us boldness to enter fully into your kingdom community. Amen

Day 26: Thursday, Week 5—Aah, Rest

Isaiah 30:15-18; Psalm 51:1-12; Hebrews 4:1-13

As we camped in Buttermilk Falls, New York, I sat at the table in the heat of sunlight reflected from our 1965 Ambassador wagon. I remember my mom saying, “I wish we didn’t have to go back. I feel so rested here.” For her, rest meant anonymous living without social obligations and commitments. She loved to catch up on her reading, letter writing, and sleep. It didn’t really matter to her where she went as long as she got to take time for herself. This need for vacating or retreat can be important, yet this is not what I believe God’s rest is about.

God’s rest is not about doing (or not doing); it is about being. God’s rest at the end of creation does not celebrate creation being done, but that creation is. After the work of doing, God does not sit back and ask to be served, God invites creation to enter into a time of relationship.

It’s now time to get to know one another. The work of relationship takes time to be. We are not what we do; we are who God made us. We need time to know that God is God. God interacts with us and those around us through the gifts we have been given. We need time to explore those gifts and listen to God’s voice of calling and God’s hand of leading. This is not a time to vacate; it is a time to enter in—into relationship with God and one another.

It is a time of interaction, discovering and discerning our way together. I sometimes think about it like being a choir. Sopranos sing one thing, altos another; tenors, baritones and basses all have their own song; some are active and melodic, others are plodding and plain. There may be beauty in one line; but if it is not willing to be in relationship with the others, the song can be thin. It is the relationship of all of the voices, sharing the words of the song, which brings power, depth, and texture to the piece.

Our weekly Sabbath time, invites us into that relationship with God so we have a partner and partners in the singing of our gospel songs learned in daily life. “And so, with the choirs of angels, the church on earth, and the hosts of heaven, we join and sing their endless song.” We can start learning the new verses and melodies for next week tomorrow.

Prayer

Lord, you hold the door open for us to enter, but we turn aside wanting to open doors for ourselves. Help us know the gift of relationship with you in the community of people you gather around us. Help us learn your gospel song. Amen

SignPost Thursday to Sunday, Week 5—The Laundromat

Psalm 51:1-12

On a trip to the Smoky Mountains, my family had hit four days of rain in a row. The camper was damp; our sleeping bags were damp; our clothes were muddy. Life in the car was tense; harsh words had been spoken; none of us felt very friendly, let alone loving, toward one another. We had clearly spent too much time together in cramped quarters.

In a small town we found the cure for our malaise: a Laundromat, and theater, and a restaurant.

We washed our clothes, cleaned up in the bathroom, ate a good meal in a heated restaurant, went to a movie, and then, before going back to the campground, we stopped back at the Laundromat and ran our sleeping bags through the drier. 

Back in the camper, we quickly got ready for bed, jumped into our still slightly warm sleeping bags and went to sleep.

In the morning the sun came out and dried the canvas. We took everything out of the car, repacked, and started the next leg of the trip. Life was good again.

Prayer

Lord, it is easy to bruise others’ feelings when we are out of sorts. With the gift of forgiveness we receive from you, may we find the graciousness to forgive those around us, so that we can again eat together and sleep in peace. Amen

Sermon for Wednesday of Week 4—Light in the Darkness

Psalm 107:1-16
Isaiah 60:15-22
John 8:12-20

Throughout the Gospel of John we hear the repeated theme of light and darkness. In the very first chapter, we read “What has come into being through [Christ] was life, and the life was the light of all people.” And then, our English translations say, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” A more literal translation of this last passage says, “The light, in the darkness shines, and the darkness overcomes it not.”

I know that the difference of the translation is minor, and, for most of us, we say, “So what?”  But there is a difference. One proclaims light that shines from outside into the darkness, and, the other speaks of the darkness being everywhere, and the light shines in the midst of it.

The difference was brought home to me one night when a group of friends and I had gone backpacking. At the end of a long day of hiking, we were tired, but we were pleased with our progress. We made a fire and as the sun set, we talked, told jokes, told some stories, and relaxed before turning in for the night. At some point, I got up and walked out into the woods for a while. Clouds had moved in threatening rain, but the weather was still holding. As I walked out into the trees, away from the fire, it got darker and darker. At a bend in the path I was following the fire light disappeared completely. It was black; I could see nothing at all. The trail got steeper. I thought I’d turn around.

Climbing back up the hill, I missed the turn back to camp. My landmarks were gone, I had no idea where I was. I had not taken my flashlight with me because I did not think that I was going that far. I called out, but no one responded. In the thickness of the trees sound was muffled. I could not hear the others talking either. Should I keep trying to find my way back? Was I only going to get more confused and maybe walk away from my friends?

I sat down to think for a minute. I couldn’t be that far away, but how was I going to find my friends and camp? Finally I thought to climb a nearby tree. As I climbed, I heard something moving above. I froze for a moment. “What might be living in the tree?” I thought. I was afraid to move, but the scolding of a squirrel told me it was going to be okay. I climbed a little higher and there it was. The fire was shining off to my left. I climbed back down the tree and found my way back. In the midst of the darkness the light shined out.

As I walked back into camp I was particularly happy to notice how the darkness was still all around us, but the light from our fire had pushed the boundaries of the darkness back for awhile. Yet, when our wood was consumed, the darkness would enclose us all.

Tonight we are told that Jesus is the light of the world. It is not a light in the darkness that will burn out. Even when the light is seemingly extinguished on the cross, we find that the light is kindled anew on Easter morning and that the light of life is promised to all of us in the darkness of death. The light shines out for us to see, and the darkness overcomes it not.

But death is not the only part of the darkness. We live in the darkness of fear, the darkness of war, the darkness of polarized politics, the darkness of poverty, the darkness of oppression. These darknesses continue to surround us, yet if we do not lose our way in the darkness, with Christ’s unquenchable light, we can push the boundaries of those darknesses back.

If we do get lost in the darkness, we can still climb the tree of the cross and find the light of Christ again shining out of the darkness, guiding us home—home to that place where Isaiah tells us that, instead of ordinary things, we will be given extraordinary gifts. We will be given more than we ask for and greater quality than we desire.

Indeed, the City of Peace, Jerusalem, will be the city of peace, and the righteousness of God will surround us. The Lord will be our everlasting light and God will be our glory.

In Baptism we received Christ’s light and may have heard these words. “Let your light so shine before others that they might see your good works [in Christ Jesus].” Let us go to shine in the darkness.

Day 25: Wednesday, Week 4—Long and winding road

Isaiah 60:15-22; Psalm 107:1-16; John 8:12-20

It seems like a long time ago now and yet, like yesterday. I got in the car with a good friend of mine and drove on one of the longest trips of my life. We had been to a party the night before that had gone until three. At eight we were on the road. I felt like the proverbial horse that had been rid hard and put away wet.

Two hours later, I looked down a very long aisle and saw my wife-to-be walking toward me with her father by her side. I had no idea what I was getting into.

Marriage is oftentimes used as a metaphor of our relationship with God, in part because God claims us as bride several times in Scripture, but also because it is a relationship of trust and interdependence.

So how does one demonstrate love after years of being together? After more than forty years, I will tell you that sex isn’t the answer. Sex is good, but sex is not the answer. After thirty-five years it is even difficult to surprise your partner positively with behavior above and beyond (although I seem to continue to surprise with disappointments).

We have is a rich history together and a sense of incompleteness by ourselves. But what demonstrates love in the long haul is understanding and forgiveness. On those days that understanding is lacking, forgiveness still does the trick. When your ability to forgive ends, so does the marriage.

This marriage relationship we know with one another is paled by the relationship we have with God, but it may be the best metaphor we have. Our behavior as God’s bride would be grounds for divorce in any culture, yet God continues to find a way to forgive and give. God chooses to continue to be faithful, loving us, lifting us up when we fail, forgiving us when we stray, and providing not only what we need but more.

In today’s text we witness just a small glimpse of God’s forgiving joyfulness over the restored relationship with God’s people.

Prayer

Lord, we can’t thank you enough for your loving forgiveness. We continue to pray that we might be even pale reflections of that love for others. Amen

Day 24: Tuesday, Week 4—Mysterious Ways

Numbers 20:1-13; Psalm 107:1-16; 1 Corinthians 10:6-13

On a canoe trip I led one year, my campers had started complaining about the food, the work, and the amount of time we had spent doing community building exercises and Bible study. I repeatedly heard, “Again?”   

Singing songs around the campfire seemed to be an alien concept. Before meals, I’d teach prayer in song and activity, yet no one seemed willing. Getting kids to help with the cooking or gathering wood for fires was met with complaining.

By the end of the week, I’d have gladly abandoned them for a small fee. I felt ineffectual. I thought that nothing I was doing was helpful, and I’m pretty sure, that by the end of the week, there was little Gospel or grace left in me. So I was blown away when we returned, and I heard one of my campers say to her parents. “We had the best time! I learned so much. Do you know we had to pray before every meal? It was nice.”

“God works in mysterious ways,” I thought. “But if you didn’t need my help, why did you send me?”

There is always a temptation to think that the work that we are doing is about us, but God often works in spite of us. Paraphrasing a mentor friend of mine—it is not our job to make people faithful. Our job is to make sure that the faithful person is the one who is leading.

Today we see that even Moses and Aaron eventually think it’s about them, but, of course, it has been, and always will be, about God’s leading in the wilderness.

Prayer

Lord, we thank you for your leading us into ways of patience and forgiveness. Strengthen us to be faithful examples of your providence and care. Amen

Day 23: Monday, Week 4—Complaints

Exodus 15:22-27; Psalm 107:1-16; Hebrews 3:1-6

In 1964, my family, a neighbor, and a friend headed out in our 1960 Ambassador station wagon to San Francisco where our neighbor would be a delegate to the Republican convention at the Cow Palace. We were not going directly to the convention. We were off to see the sights and visit family along the way. We were headed for San Diego and work our way north.

From the beginning, there were problems. Our friend had never traveled economy class; the rest of us were all about economy. Our friend liked restaurants; we stopped at grocery stores for bread and lunchmeat and ate in parks. Our friend liked motels, at least; we slept in the car rotating drivers and sleepers as we went. Our friend liked to stretch out and move around; we drove for hours stopping only for gas or when someone needed to use the bathroom.

As we left Las Vegas, our friend complained that she hadn’t had enough time at the casino to get even. In the mountains, she complained about the roads. In the lowlands of California, the weather was too hot. She was not excited about visiting our family members or other friends. San Francisco was too cold. Finally, in Carson City on the way home she got a ticket on the Greyhound bus and rode home alone.

We laugh at the Israelites many times, shaking our heads in wonder. “How could they be so silly?” Yet we often complain about the simplest things. We complain about the weather. We complain about taxes, politicians, food prices, gas prices, and medical bills.

“Okay, the water was bitter, but really? It was water.”

A friend recently returned from a trip to Mexico. He said, “Each time I return I am overwhelmed by how wealthy I am and how rich we are as a nation. I am not sure that I would even know how to get by on the amount of money these people live on.”

Prayer

Lord, we are tempted to count life’s shortcomings instead of your blessings. As we walk together in the communities you give us, help us notice the strengths and the gifts in our neighborhoods and the communities where we are. Amen

SignPost Monday to Wednesday, Week 4—The Accident

Psalm 107:1-16

The mission statement of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) is “God’s Work, Our Hands”. This is never more apparent in our lives than in times of crisis. God’s work is done each time an ambulance, a fire truck, Med-flight helicopter, police car, or First Responder heads out to an accident. And like it or not, many need our hands in God’s work every day. 

One afternoon on the highway we were stopped by emergency lights. I got out of the car and spoke with a police officer to see if anyone might want or need pastoral care.

After a few minutes, I was called to a place where a young man was lying on the road. The EMT person was working furiously. Medical supplies were strewn all over the road. Blood was everywhere. In the distance other sirens were heard. Med-flight had been called.

Suddenly everyone stopped what they were doing. “He didn’t make it,” the EMT said. I stood there feeling helpless. “What would you like me to do?” I asked.

“Pray, damn it!” someone said with the sound of helplessness in her cry.

We stood there for a moment together and prayed for the families involved. I closed with the Lord’s Prayer. As I began saying “Our Father, who art in heaven”, I was joined by the voices of the others.

Forty feet away, tools were prying open the other door of the car, releasing another person. In a few minutes this one was flown to the hospital. The first young man was placed on a gurney and transported by ambulance. Pictures were taken of the scene, cars were towed away, Equipment was picked up, swept up, and a fire truck washed the evidence of the accident away. Traffic started to move.

As I drove home, I was overwhelmed by the commitment and the seeming calm of those people. I give thanks to God for all of them including the emergency doctors and nurses in these critical times of our lives.

Prayer
Lord, we give thanks for your presence in the time of crisis. Bless and sustain the lives of all who come to our aid in times of need. Bless our hands of care and healing as we do your work; even in the folding of our hands in prayer. In Jesus name we pray. Amen 

Fourth Sunday of Lent—Which Way Did He Go?

At various times in our lives, we must meet someone in an unfamiliar place. I remember one time that Sue and I were meeting Steve in Chicago to go to a restaurant we had never driven to before.

We met at a previously agreed upon landmark, and then we followed our friend during rush hour traffic to the restaurant. Somewhere along the journey we followed a black Maxima instead of Steve’s black Jetta. We ended up at a private driveway instead of the restaurant. Fortunately, we had foreseen the possibility of being separated and had agreed upon another easy to find meeting place. We finally arrived together at the restaurant for an amazing meal shared with great company.

Our cars have a little device, the directional signal, which helps others tell us where they are going. It tells us what they plan to do and where we intend to go. It can help when trying to follow someone.

Sometimes though, we are distracted and lose sight of the one we are following. Another car that looks very similar appears where we expect the one we are following to be. We get lost and confused and end up looking for a parking place at the end of someone’s driveway instead of finding the eating place we need and desire.

Therefore, it is important to have a very clear understanding of where we are going in the first place and to know the check points along the way where we can be reunited with our guide. (Is the driveway the place that we are supposed to be for supper? Maybe not!)

In the story of Bartimaeus, we are shown where Jesus is going. He is going to the cross, of course, the place that Jesus has been going for his entire ministry. We know it; Bartimaeus knows it; and Jesus has let Bartimaeus see it again. Seeing the vision of the cross again—“people like trees walking” (Mark 8:24)—Bartimaeus follows Jesus on the way. The signals have been quite clear for a while now if we don’t get confused in traffic.

Just in case you get lost along the way, remember that we have agreed to meet Jesus for further directions at our local congregations. Watch the brake lights and the several stops along the way. When we get to the final stop, we will find food and water for everyone. The water of resurrection might look a little scary, but it is life giving. The food will be amazing, and the company is going to be great too.

So, if you are one of those who has been directionally challenged for awhile during life’s rush-hour traffic, know the place we are going. It is the cross and then the empty tomb of resurrection. Just watch for the directional signals and the brake lights until we get there. You too can follow on the way.

Money for Nothing and Our Chicks Are Free

THE SON TIMES
The Gateway Gospel of Destiny

Money for Nothing and Our Chicks Are Free

by Jack D. Sypal
Dateline: Jerusalem, March 4, 2018, 02:13:22-The Jam-Man, as Jesse Benjo’s disciples refer to him, was really jammin’ today. He upset order in the Courtyard of the Gentiles at the Temple Complex when he confronted vendors around 10:00 AM.

Benjo drove cattle and sheep from the premises with a scourge-like implement he fashioned from rushes used to produce baskets. As the livestock tried to get out the gate, the stampeding animals overturned and scattered the currency exchange tables of the many money changers. Approximately 3,000 pigeons also flew the coop in the midst of the bedlam.

To validate his disruption of the market, Benjo claimed the moral high ground citing ancient writings. The devout must avoid the defiled and idolatrous Roman currency which includes both the imperial image and inscription. To keep from corrupting the Temple confines, such coins must be exchanged for acceptable, sanctified Temple coins.

At first the money changers ran a straight currency exchange, just adding a small percentage to compensate them for risk. Then, because of several alleged counterfeiting schemes, the percentage rose.

Unstable and sometimes volatile markets with rapid fluctuations in monetary values developed causing the exchange to become more reactive. Eventually, money changers were bidding for tables and placements within the Gentile Courtyard, and big money got involved.

Additional allegations of kickbacks and Temple profiteering have recently circulated. Forensic accounting investigators are examining Temple funds as well as the tax returns of Annas and Caiaphas, Annas’ son-in-law. Suggestions of nepotism and questions over Caiaphas’ qualifications and competency to be high priest this year have been raised as well.

Benjo’s abrupt action today has also brought the debate over the current practice of selling sacrificial animals appropriate for the Passover celebration at the Temple complex to a head.

For years, devout people who live too far from the Temple to bring their animals from home have sold animals before coming to Jerusalem. Upon arriving here, they then buy both supplies to celebrate this holy time in style and also animals for sacrifice.

In recent years the rural area surrounding Jerusalem has seen an increasing number of larger estates belonging to both Romans and wealthy Herodians. The result is the number of small family farms available to supply animals has significantly decreased. At the same time, the number of people coming for the Passover festivities has increased.

These two factors have made it more difficult to find quality stock for sacrifice at a reasonable price. In addition, feed and pasturage prices are set at a premium during the festival season as well.

Lastly, Benjo referenced sanitary regulations necessitating the removal of the animals from the courtyard. The simple logistics problem of effluvial removal is a major consideration.

Vendor, Bo Vineyard, said, “With the number of bullocks, sheep, goats, and pigeons needed for an extravaganza like this, the amount of bull s--- that is around is greater than one can possibly imagine. If you don’t want the place becoming a world class s---hole, well, a barnyard, someone has to be scooping, sweeping, and scrubbing the courtyard several times a day. That means jobs, but it costs money, a lot of money.”

This big business, chaotic carnival atmosphere that has become the new normal at Passover is what came to a stop today when Benjo whipped up a storm of controversy surrounding current Temple practices.

During the heated exchange of comments, S. K. Wabby, a pigeon vendor, questioned Benjo’s approach, “It has taken more than forty-five years to develop what we’ve got. If you destroy it, then what?”

Benjo laughed and said, “Given a free hand, even with Temple and Roman interference, I’ll bet that I could come up with a better system in three days.”

Benjo teamed bold actions with bold words. The Son Times will continue to cover this story in coming days.

The In-breaking of God's Kingdom Mark 1:9-15

Today is the first Sunday in Lent, and we are hearing the story of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. The Bible has several different accounts of this story. We are probably most familiar with the temptation story that includes the dialog between Jesus and Satan.

In Mark, we don’t get that conversation. Here we are told that Jesus is in the wilderness forty days and, depending on the choices the translator makes, Jesus was tempted, or maybe tested, or maybe even his measure was being taken, by Satan. Jesus was with the wild beasts, or maybe dangerous beasts, or possibly even the devouring beasts; and the angels served him, or ministered to him, or became followers of him.

There is some debate as to how to translate these two short verses in Mark, and how one thinks about the nuances of these words in these verses influences the way that one thinks about the rest of the book of Mark. Today I want to look at the part where Jesus is being measured or tested to see whether he is able to withstand the rest of his ministry.

Is Jesus able to be the one who will save the world from itself and the powers of the world that would defy God? Although we see Jesus in the wilderness for forty days in the book of Mark, the temptations don’t stop there. Throughout all the Gospel of Mark, Jesus is tempted to withhold God’s forgiveness relationship from those he meets.

Each miracle story is a temptation to not heal. Each time Jesus teaches, he is tempted to let the people continue in their old ways. Indeed, at one point, Jesus says, “How long must I be with this adulterous generation?” Throughout it all, Jesus continues to be faithful to God’s own creation and continues to bring wholeness wherever he goes.

In the three texts we have before us today—the rainbow covenant with Noah and his family; Peter’s claim of Christ dying and rising for the sake of the world; and the baptism of Jesus followed by the wilderness time of temptations, wild beasts, and angels of serving—we encounter some of the most powerful images of our faith.

These images from today’s texts are beautiful, but they are also deadly. They are challenging, and they are life giving. They are death producing, and they are death defying. In the midst of it all, there is a promise of new life and hope for the future.

God makes a covenant with Noah and his family after the flood. This covenant, this agreement between God and Noah, this contract that is struck, is not written on paper, but it is sealed in the heavens for all to see. Whenever the people of God see the rainbow in the sky, they breathe easier; and God is reminded of the covenant that is made with Noah and all of creation.

We see this sign in the heavens, but we do not always embrace the meaning. We need to understand that a bow is not just an arched prismatic light display. It is a bow, like a bow and arrow. This bow is hung in the sky pointing the direction the arrow will go.

Notice the bow does not point toward earth. It points toward God. In this covenant relationship we have with God, God says, “I will never again destroy the world with the waters of the flood. Should I ever break my promise, you, creation, have the right to draw the bow and kill me.”

How often have we paused to look at a rainbow and marveled at it? I remember a time just after I got my sight back. We were on a train in Germany, and outside the window were these two perfect rainbows. It was not just one rainbow; there were two of them, each pointing into the heavens. It was amazing. In the context of this first covenant story, it was almost like: “No matter which way you go, God, we have got you covered.”

As we enter into these days of Lent, we are reminded that God’s promises are everlasting, but humanity’s faith wavers. In just a few weeks, we will hear the story of how humankind decides to draw the bow and kill God. Even then Christ will die on the cross only to rise and give humanity another chance to be in relationship with God.

This relationship we have with God is based not on the death-producing, destructive waters of judgment, but on the waters of baptism in which we are raised up into everlasting life through the grace of Jesus Christ. God’s promise is magnified. What was once death-producing now is the source of what defies death and gives the promise of an everlasting relationship with God that cannot be broken.

Yes, the rainbow is beautiful, but it is potentially divinely deadly, and the waters of the flood are terrifying. Neither the waters of the world nor the rainbow is as placid and passive as either seems. Still we marvel at the rainbow and wonder at God’s saving actions.

This is not the only time that God’s people will face drowning waters. They will confront those drowning waters when they flee Egypt and enter into the wilderness. And again, the Israelites will face those waters of death when they leave the wilderness and cross the river to enter the promised land.

We too pass through waters that would destroy us. Those drowning waters of the flood, they continue to be deadly. That flood continues to drown and destroy sin, but in Christ, we receive the gift of the life-giving water in baptism. Through these waters of death and life, we receive the death-defying eternal life we have in Christ.

Through Christ, we see God’s full intention for the world, that the world might be saved through Christ, that the world might pass in faith through the drowning waters with Christ and rise from those waters into new life. The way of everlasting life is paved for us through Christ’s death and resurrection, through what Martin Luther calls the Great Exchange: “the just for the unjust, the righteous for the unrighteous,” the divine for the human family that cannot save itself.

In this new relationship with God, we read that the heavens are torn open. This word in Greek is schizomeno. It is the basis of the words schizophrenia and schism. The Greek word also used to describe giving birth. It implies the womb is torn apart so that new life might enter the world.

Today we also read that the Spirit throws or drives Jesus out into the wilderness. In Greek the word is ekballo which also describes how a baby is pushed or cast out of the womb into the world. So, in the midst of this tearing open of the heavens and Jesus being cast out, we witness the beginnings of the new-life relationship Jesus brings.

More than this new life, when Jesus comes out of the wilderness, after John is arrested, Jesus proclaims that the time is fulfilled. This word in Greek, pléroó, does not just mean filled or fulfilled. It corresponds to a Hebrew word that means filled like a womb is filled with a child.

This filling is not something that can be contained by the world. This fulfillment is going to expand until it gives birth to something new again. Our lives in Christ will continue to be influenced by the new life Christ brings and the new life we receive.

In the midst of the waters of the flood, under the rainbow hung in the sky, when the heavens are being torn apart, when doves fall from the sky, when God’s voice is heard claiming Jesus as his beloved son, as the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness, in the midst of all of this death and new-life craziness, comes the cry of new hope and new life with new ways of living, with a new order for the world. Indeed, the time is fulfilled; the kingdom of God is at hand.

The boundaries between heaven and earth have been broken down. God’s kingdom is no longer separate from us; it is with us here and now. This is the good news. God will not abandon us. Indeed, God has come to be with us, God our Immanuel, here on earth for the sake of the world. And we get to be the ones who let the rest of the world know about this amazing thing that God is doing in our midst through the life, death, and the resurrection of Jesus the Christ.

Although in the midst of the wilderness chaos time we live in today; in the midst of senseless shootings in our clubs, at concerts we attend, in our schools; in those public places where we gather where trucks and vans run people down; when we feel lost and cast adrift, we are tempted—tempted to say nothing, to curl up in a ball, and to pray that the world will just go away and leave us alone, it is in this time that we see Jesus coming out of the wilderness saying, “The kingdom of God has drawn near. Hear the good news.”

God’s kingdom is engaged; it is slap up against the world that we live in. Indeed, the two have become one. Don’t be afraid. Be bold and live!

The story is told that Moses spent forty years in the wilderness because he wouldn’t ask for directions. Jesus only had to spend forty days in the wilderness, not because he asked for directions, but because the Spirit drove him through it. This story is even funnier if you know that in Hebrew and Greek the Spirit is feminine.

We come to our wilderness time needing to ask for direction. With our questions, our concerns, our hopes and our dreams, we look forward to our ministry with Jesus who brings healing and wholeness. We are called to work with Jesus in the world like midwives aiding new birth relationships with new ways of living together seeking the Spirit’s leading.

I cannot know what it feels like to experience the schizomeno-ing of new birth, but I am told by women who have given birth, that not only their bodies, but the fabric of their lives is torn open; and, with the new life they have brought into the world, their world is forever changed; they cannot think of the world in the same way again.

Today, in the midst of the heavens being torn open, we have been given new life in our midst, and we are charged with caring for that new life, entrusted to tell the generations to come of the mighty acts of God. “The time is fulfilled. The kingdom of God is engaged. Hear the good news of God.”

Day 22: Saturday, Week 4—Thar She Blows

Numbers 20:22-29; Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22; John 3:1-13

Stopping at Lake Champlain, we set up camp. As we finished supper, the wind picked up. Rain started falling, the thunder crashed, and the camper vibrated in the gusty wind. As we lay in our sleeping bags, we could hear the wind increasing. Branches broke; the waves on the lake roared. Not far away, whole trees broke and fell. It was a little spooky lying there with only a few aluminum rods and a sheet of canvas between me and the storm outside.

In the morning, everything was fine with us, but the evidence of a violent storm was all around us. I couldn’t wait to get the camper hooked up to our 1965 Ambassador wagon and get home.

Jesus says that we can hear the wind, but we know neither where it comes from nor where it is going. My feeling is, if you can hear it, I don’t care where it has come from. I’m busy worrying about the here and now.

Even if one thinks about the double meaning of wind (in Greek, wind can be either wind or spirit) and thinks about the spirit’s call, I still worry about the here and now. If the spirit is speaking, I’m thinking we should be listening, not caring where the spirit has been before, nor where it will speak next.

Evidence of the spirit suggests that violent things happen. Jesus is cast into the wilderness by the spirit in Mark. The spirit blows through Jerusalem transforming cowardly disciples into witnesses of the Gospel in the midst of enemies. The breath or wind from God is enough to separate the waters in Genesis.

When the spirit/wind blows, you can bet that change is not far off. It may come to you or may blow you away to new ways of living in God’s kingdom. God’s kingdom has broken into our world and the spirit continues to blow in it. Indeed we do not know where the spirit/wind comes from nor where we will end up. It’s enough to find home in our baptismal life and to live in the here and now.

Prayer

Lord, we thank you for claiming us in the waters of baptism, but the force of your spirit sometimes frightens us. Give us courage to stand in your wind of change for the sake of your creation. Amen

Day 21: Friday, Week 4—I have been to Cypress Gardens

Daniel 12:5-13; Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22; Ephesians 1:7-14

In the spring of 1960, we went to Florida for my first visit. Mom picked my sister and me up after school in our first station wagon, a two-tone, white on some color green I have never seen again. A 1960 Ambassador 880, it had a 3-speed shift on the column and black and green patterned vinyl seats, easy to clean with just a wipe of a damp rag. White walls and bullet crease raised fins in the back said “even family cars can look chic”.

Pulling off our boots to be stored in the back seat, we climbed over the tail gate into a padded sleeping/play area in the back, and we were off—Mom and Grandpa in the front; Grandma, suitcases, the picnic thermos bag, maps and Grandma’s knitting bag in the back seat; and Jamie and me in the back.

In Florida, we hit the sights: Cypress Gardens, Weeki Wachee Springs, the glass-bottomed boat, the Sea Aquarium, the snake garden, and other places I can’t recall. At each place, some kind person put a bumper sticker on our car. When they ran out of bumper space, they started using the tailgate. By the time we were done with our trip, we were a rolling billboard for the entire state of Florida.

Two things I learned: black vinyl seats get so hot in the sun that you can burn your legs when you sit without a towel, and bumper stickers are almost impossible to get off after twenty-four hours.

In Ephesians we hear that we too have been marked. This is no bumper sticker to be removed, it is the permanent mark of the cross. Although it is invisible for most of the year, we display it on Ash Wednesday as an advertisement of who and whose we are. When it is visible, it is a sign of our mortality, the symbol of death and shame, but when it is invisible, it proclaims our salvation in Christ. Either way, this mark says, “I have been to the waters of baptism. I belong to Christ.”

Prayer

We thank you, Lord, for putting your mark upon us, claiming us through drowning death and resurrection living in you. May our lives be an advertisement of your kingdom. Amen

Day 20: Thursday, Week 4—Devil’s Lake

Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22; Ephesians 1:3-6

The second week in July meant it was time for Mom, my sister and me to go to Devil’s Lake State Park with my aunt and uncle and cousins. In previous years, we had started camping on the weekend. My uncle set the trailer and attached the screened porch, but this year we were leaving in the middle of the week and my uncle wouldn’t be up until Friday.

Arriving at the south end of the lake, we tumbled out to get camp set up. Mom and my aunt kept saying, “That looks good; don’t you think?” They congratulated one another on a job well done.

That night, after supper and a campfire, we packed ourselves into the camper. The girls slept out in the screen porch with the canvas sides up for the night; the boys slept on the floor of the camper; my mom and aunt shared the bed. Around 11:00 it started to rain. By midnight it was pouring.

Somewhere around 2:00 one of the girls woke up and said, “Ma, my bed is getting wet.”

“Roll over and go back to sleep. You’re fine.”

“But I’m getting wet.” she repeated.

Just then the stakes let go. The whole roof fell down and gallons of water poured into their sleeping area. The stakes had not been driven in deep enough and the canvas had not been stretched tight enough. Instead of shedding the rain, many gallons of water had pooled above the girls like a mini-Devil’s Lake.

Outlined by lightning, taunted by thunder, in the midst of the pouring rain, my mom and aunt hammered stakes into the mud and re-secured the tent lines. They raised the canvas roof on slightly bent poles and then stayed up to occasionally push on the center of the roof to push the rain off.

In the morning, as the sun came up over the bluff, a rainbow appeared. “Well,” my aunt said, “The worst is over. No one drowned, and God says it’s going to be a nice day.”

Prayer

Lord, your great bow continues to appear in the sky reminding us of your relationship with us and your care for us amid the seas of Chaos. Thank you. Amen

SignPost Thursday to Sunday, Week 4—French Toast

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22

One Sunday, after church, my sister and I went home with my grandparents for the afternoon in my grandfather’s 1957 Nash Ambassador. It was two-tone, cream on sea foam green, with padded leather trim around the dash board to reduce accidental impact. Also a section of the back seat could fold down for an arm rest. A removable curtain allowed access to the trunk.

I disconnected the curtain, climbed into that magical cave area, and put the curtain back in place. When my grandmother looked back to check on us, she saw my sister, but I was gone.  “Chris, we’ve lost Peter! Did he fall out on the last corner?” she cried.

I pulled the curtain down, poked my head through the opening, and shouted, “Boo!” After a few brief words counseling proper automobile deportment, I was ordered to sit in the seat. We were forbidden from ever using the arm rest again.

The rest of the afternoon went well. When Mom called and said that she would not be able to pick us up until after supper, my grandmother showed her forgiveness by making my favorite meal, French toast. To my horror, Grandma covered my French toast with butter and then poured maple syrup over it.

I truly dislike butter on my French toast. I tried to take a bite, but it wouldn’t go down. My favorite food was sitting there in front of me, and I couldn’t eat it. I started to cry. The more people told me that I needed to eat, after all it was my favorite and Grandma had made it just for me, the worse I felt; and the harder I cried. I got hysterical. My uncle even recorded me crying. In the background you could hear my grandparents trying to reason with me. My sister volunteered to eat it for me, but she was rebuffed: Peter was going to eat it.

Finally, my mom arrived and assessed the problem. She apologized for me, explaining the problem. She ate the now cold French toast and took us home. “Why didn’t you say something?” she kept asking. I had no answer for her. At home I was given a peanut butter sandwich and put to bed.

We are told to speak of God’s goodness, to speak of what we need, and God will provide with abundance. God fed the people in the wilderness with good things, and God will continue to feed us with good things. Hopefully, the French toast doesn’t have butter on it.

Prayer
Lord, in our troubled times we cry out to you. Sometimes that cry is unreasoned and hysterical, but in your grace we are comforted and so we proclaim your goodness in all that we do. Amen

Sermon for Wednesday of Week 3—Does Anyone Know What Time It Is?

Psalm 84
Ezra 6:1-16
Mark 11:15-19

I don’t know about you, but when I was young, my mom would make these decrees every once in awhile. “You can’t go to your friend’s house, the dance, the hobby shop (or just about anything else you can think of) until your room is clean.” Every once in awhile, when I look at my car, I hear her voice in my head. After days or weeks of hospital calls, home visits, other meetings, I look at my car and think, “What a pig sty.”

Empty coffee cups, soda glasses, food wrappers, books, magazines, newspapers, clothes, hats, and depending on the season, gloves and boots seem to accumulate and multiply in my car. I lost a traveling communion set back there for almost three months one time. It’s the cost of almost living in the car at times.

So occasionally, I have to take boxes and garbage bags out to car and clean the detritus (that’s a nice word for garbage) out of the car. If I am feeling energetic, I might even vacuum and wash the windows and dashboard.  Washing the steering wheel is always a good thing to do. Yes, I am always amazed at the dirt that collects there.

Today we hear about cleaning things out. Nebuchadnezar took all of the holy things out of the temple when he conquered Judah. He would have wanted to show the world that he possessed the power of the vessels, but he was also afraid to use them, so he put them in a vault somewhere to collect dust.

Now Darius commands that these vessels be found and put back where they belong. It’s cleaning day. In order to do this, they need to first rebuild the temple as the appropriate place where they should be kept. That means taking the holy things back to Jerusalem. So, King Darius, cleans house and sends everything back with Ezra and Nehemiah.

Amid the vessels, the writings of the people are found. The Scriptures have been locked away for years. You can read about the reading of these lost writings in Nehemiah 8.

After the temple has been rebuilt, it begins to collect stuff just like my car. Pilgrims come to worship at the temple. They want to bring their sacrifices to the Lord. Because sheep, goats, and doves don’t always travel well, they need a place to get them. What better place than the temple courtyard itself?

Local coins had the head of the emperor on them. Jewish coins could not have images of people on them because that worshipped idols since the emperors claimed to be gods. The Jews were therefore unable to use the local coins in the temple. In order to buy the sheep, goat, or pigeon, temple coins were needed. What better place to exchange bad money for good than the temple courtyard?

Life had intruded into worship in a way that did not honor God any longer. Like my car, it had collected the detritus of the world. It was convenient, but not very helpful.

Jesus enters the temple courtyard, sees the detritus, and decides that it is cleaning day. It is time to make the space of worship clean, to fill the courts with praise and thanksgiving, not the haggling of exchange rates and bargaining for livestock. Let’s not even go to the detritus from the livestock.

We too are called to do some spring-cleaning in our spiritual spaces. Have we gotten so involved in the matters of life that our faith lives are cluttered and overpowered by our own concerns? Do we need to find room for prayer, praise and thanksgiving that honors God and the gifts we have been given?

Sometimes it is helpful to remember that the clock was invented by Benedictine monks who wanted to make sure that they didn’t miss the times of prayer. They made clocks with faces large enough to be seen in the fields and rang bells at the appropriate times so that they could get back to chapel in time. Time for them was for prayer. Work was done in between the times for worship and prayer. This prayer time was a way of keeping their hearts clean, and it focused their thoughts while they worked.

We often forget that important time in our lives. There are those who will say, “Time is money,” but time is the gift of life itself. Prayer is that time of thanks for that gift and a time to remember those around us who share time with us.

Day 19: Wednesday, Week 3—Changing My Name to Chrysler

Ezra 6:1-16; Psalm 84; Mark 11:15-19

In the late ’70s the word was out: American Motors was failing. The achievements of more than 75 years were going under. The many workers in Kenosha were going to be without work. Then at the eleventh hour an agreement was made between Chrysler and American Motors that Chrysler would buy the company and bring jobs back to the area. Contracts were negotiated between Chrysler and the state of Wisconsin for continued jobs and auto production for years to come. It was a great time of celebration.

Things weren’t quite the same, but cars were still being produced in Kenosha. Workers continued to have pride in the cars they produced and, for a time, life was good.

Yet, as we will witness in the rebuilding of the temple, problems will arise. The temple will be destroyed, and people will need to learn new ways.

For Kenosha, that has been difficult. It is still making the adjustment. The main plant stands as a monument to days gone by, but it is learning new ways.

For some, the memory of what was accomplished there will not be forgotten. Certainly history has a place for the city that first made Rambler, the many great cars of Nash, even the many models of American Motors, and then Chrysler? Many of the innovations that started in Kenosha, such as seat belts, and automotive air conditioning are part of the cars we drive today.

In the same way, after the reconstruction of the temple, destruction came. New ways needed to be learned. These new ways weren’t easy for them either. A new way of understanding being God’s first covenant people would arise and become modern Judaism. Christianity would already be growing, but it would come into its own following the temple destruction.

Our Gospels highlight Jesus’ attitude toward the temple, but his words and actions are more poignant because of Rome’s heavy hand.

All of this continues to illustrate that what humanity makes is temporary, but the word of the Lord is everlasting.

Prayer

Lord, our buildings and monuments continue to crumble and fall. Thank you for your continued caring and support. Amen

Day 18: Tuesday, Week 3—Washing Sin Away

2 Chronicles 29:1-11, 16-19; Psalm 84; Hebrews 9:23-28

Visiting at my aunt and uncle’s one Saturday afternoon in July, while my cousins and I played, my uncle was busy vacuuming out the cars, wiping down the dashboards, and washing the windows. In the west, thunderclouds were building. The air was getting heavy, promising a good summer thunderstorm.

Near suppertime, my aunt came out and asked, “How long before you are ready to eat?”

He responded, “Well, that all depends on whether you want me to wash the cars or whether you want God to do the job.”

As we ate supper, the storm came in, a real downpour. After supper when the rain had stopped, my uncle went out and wiped down the cars. When he was done, he said, “Well, God did a pretty good job.”

I oftentimes think that sin is a little like driving our cars. We clean and polish, but when we drive down the road, like sin, dirt, bugs, and the calling cards of birds collect on the body and windshield until it is difficult to clearly see the world around us. Cleansing is needed for good safe operation.

Christ has made that cleansing possible for us in the waters of Baptism, with the promise of forgiveness in confession, and at the table where we hear those words, “Shed for you and all people for the forgiveness of sin.”

God has done a pretty good job, don’t you think?

Prayer

Lord, Jesus Christ, we thank you for making us your own in the cleansing water of baptism and with the cup of the new covenant, for by your power we are sanctified and made clean. Amen