A Sunday Message for February 26, 2012

“In the Wilderness”

(pt. 1 of “Going Places with Jesus for Lent”)

Mark 1:9-15 and Genesis 1:24-31

“And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” (Mark 1:12-13)

(Sermon preached by Rev. Larry A. Langer, First Presbyterian Church, Jasper, IN, February 26, 2012)

As I was eating breakfast Thursday morning, I noticed a “Thank You” card on our table. I looked, and it was from a newly-married couple for the wedding gift we had given them. Martha had gotten them a gift card for the Bonefish Grill, a really wonderful restaurant over in Evansville.

I thought about this gift for this couple. It probably was a perfect gift for them. It will encourage them to “get away” for a nice evening out. They are both very busy professionals in this area. They have tight schedules, schedules that have them working evenings sometimes. They are both in their forties and both have married for the first time. They have been making separate lives up ‘til now, so they really have all the need. What do you give a couple like this? We gave them a gift card for a night out at the Bonefish Grill.

Now, let’s shift from the secular to the sacred. What do we give as a gift to the God we have? We are now in the Season of Lent when we especially think about these things. The Jasper Herald even had an article on the front page last Wednesday night about it being Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, and what a couple of pastors were going to “give” for Lent.

We remember that Lent has traditionally been a time of “giving up” something, things like desserts, chocolate, meat on Fridays, that extra mocha latte. We have also tried to give up quarreling or critiquing others, especially our children. The pastors asked said they were not so much going to “give up” something as they were going to “take up” something. They were going to “take up” fasting or extra study or even walking more and meditating.

Our Executive Presbyter, Rev. Susan McGhee, puts out a writing for “Holy Days and Holidays,” and put out a writing for Ash Wednesday. It reads, in part,

Part of the tradition of Ash Wednesday was a community service at lunchtime. Father Kirk Haas, rector of Trinity Episcopal Church, always served as the officiant. As we finished our lunches, he would give us each a slip of paper and a pencil, and instruct us to spend a few moments in personal reflection. How would we observe a holy Lent this year? What might try to keep us from doing so? What might we need to let go of? What burdens or barriers might there be for us? What wounds or wonderings? What fear or failing? If we wished we could write these down on the slips of paper, crumple them up, and place them in an urn. A match was dropped into the urn and the papers burned up. Then as each person came forward, the sign of the cross was made with the ash and the words “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

Then concluded Susan:

We left the church and went about our day. But that night, as I washed my face, I saw the ash cross on my forehead and realized that all that day I had been wearing all the burdens, barriers, wounds, wonderings, fears and failings of my sisters and brothers from throughout the community.

Well, friends, we didn’t use ashes for the cross on our foreheads last Wednesday night. I don’t know about you, but I don’t need the ash cross to remind me of the burdens, barriers, wounds, wonderings, fears and failings of myself, of you, of our sisters and brothers, of those in our families, in our community and in our government and governments around the world. I don’t know about you, but I feel all of these things in my mind, my shoulders and back, in my heart, all the way to my soul.

This year during Lent, if we are honest, I don’t believe that any of us need reminding of the burdens, barriers, wounds, wonderings, fears and failings in our lives. What we need in our honesty is the assurance that we are walking with the Lord with these burdens. Thus, on Ash Wednesday, I made the sign of the cross with anointing oil and said not only “From dust you have come and to dust you shall return,” but also, “Go and walk in the strength of the Lord.” What we don’t need is a reminder of all the stuff that we face if we are honest; what we need is the assurance that we are walking with the Lord. This is what we are considering and trying to do during Lent, if we are honest.

This first Sunday of Lent, we are considering being in the wilderness with Jesus. We have read once again the familiar passage at the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus comes out of his growth years in Nazareth and is baptized by John the Baptist. We read of God’s proclamation from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

I hope we realize that when we were each baptized, God also spoke these words through the person baptizing us: “You are God’s son; you are God’s daughter; you are God’s beloved; with you God will be well-pleased.” In our baptism, God put his sign and seal on us that we are his beloved children, sons and daughters, men and women.

Then we read and remember what happened next. As soon as Jesus felt close to and beloved by God his Father, quote, “The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness for forty days, to be tempted by Satan, and be was with the wild beasts, and the angels waited on him.”

I got a different perspective this year on the phrase “and he was with the wild beasts.” I have always pictured that Jesus was having to hide and had to elude the wild things. I know that this is probably what we would have to do if we were in a wilderness somewhere. In fact, there is a place in Queensland, Australia, that I was reading about where tourists love to go, especially to go camping, because it has “exceptional beauty” and a “rare combination of tall rainforests and towering sand dunes.” It is the world’s largest sand island. However, it is also home to the largest population of native Australian dingoes – about 200 living in 30 packs. And, these dingoes, or wild dogs, are attacking people and literally carrying off babies.

But back home to Jesus’ wilderness and wild beasts, and our wildernesses and wild beasts. The different perspectives on Jesus and the wild beasts is that Jesus is with the “comforting, peaceful, reassuring” beasts. Rev. William Willamon writes:

I remind you that Mark’s gospel begins with the Greek word “genesis.” Just as the creation story begins in the first book of the Bible with “In the beginning,” so Mark begins his story of Jesus with, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ…” Get it? Mark is saying that Jesus Christ is sort of like God starting all over again with creation, finishing the work that was begun in Genesis. God intended for us to live in harmony with creation. The man and the woman were meant to live with all the animals. But of course, that’s not what we got. What God got was man and woman not content to be creatures and rebelliously desiring to be creators unto themselves. The sad disorder of a degraded creation is all around us. So, out there in the dark, in the wilderness on this First Sunday in Lent, in Jesus. But he is not done. He is there with the comforting, peaceful, reassuring beasts. In Jesus, a wounded creation is being held.

Isn’t this an interesting perspective on Jesus in the wilderness – that he’s not out there being attacked by them, but just being with them as another part of God’s creation. Then the verse also said, “The angels attended him.”

Alright. He has been baptized. He is God’s Son, the Beloved. He was driven into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit. He was with the wild beasts and angels attended him. But we are leaving something out. The verses also say, “He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan.” This was the “bugaboo” Jesus faced; it wasn’t the wild animals; Jesus had to face the temptations of Satan.

From our knowledge of the other gospels, we know what these temptations are, too. Satan tempted Jesus to use his super-natural powers to turn stones to bread. Jesus said, “No, we do not live by bread alone, but by the words of the Lord.” Satan tempted Jesus to test God’s love by throwing himself off the “pinnacle of the temple.” Jesus said, “No one should do something stupid, testing God’s love.” Satan tempted Jesus to take over the leadership of the earth over which Satan had power. Jesus said, “No way. My Father has given you the power for the time being. Soon he will take it back and give it to me. Be gone, Satan!”

You know, Saints, that it isn’t the wild beasts that we are with that cause us our problems; it is the challenges and offers of Satan. In our service Wednesday evening, we read James’ chapter one. Of interest for us today is James 1:12-16, which reads:

Blessed is anyone who endures temptation. Such a one has stood the test and will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him. No one, when tempted, should say, “I am being tempted by God”; for God cannot be tempted by evil (we remember Jesus’ responses!) and God himself tempts no one. But a person is tempted by one’s own desire, being lured and enticed by it; then, when that desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin, and that sin, when it is fully grown, given birth to death. Do not be deceived, my beloved.

It is the temptations we face that we are concerned about during Lent: The temptations to think of ourselves more highly than we ought, as if we are the centers of the universe. The temptations to think that just because we thought of something, it is right and the right thing to do. The temptations to think that just because a friend said something that it is the gospel truth. The temptation to put personal preferences ahead of a common goal. The temptation to not face our own demons but to blame all our problems on others, including God.

The good news is, after Jesus stood down Satan, he came out of the wilderness proclaiming the good news: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe the good news.”

Saints, this is what Lent can be for us. It doesn’t have to be a time of sack cloth and ashes. It doesn’t have to be a time of shouldering all our burdens. But what it should be is a time of really, really hearing the good news that Jesus brings, getting rid of our burdens and living a more Christ-like life.

If we would do this these next forty days of Lent in the wilderness with Jesus, then let’s take to heart Psalm 25 and make a gift to our Holy God, the only gift God needs at all – Ourselves. If we would be in the wilderness with Jesus, then let us pray these words from Psalm 25:

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust, do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me. Do not let those who wait for you to be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

Make us to know your ways, O Lord; teach us your paths. Lead us in your truth, and teach us, for you are the God of our salvation; for you we wait all day long.

Amen.

A Lord's Day Message for February 19, 2012

“Witnesses and Witnessing”

Mark 9:2-9 and Psalm 50:1-6

“And there appeared to them (Jesus, Peter, James and John), Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus…Peter did not know what to say, for they (Peter, James and John) were terrified.” (Mark 9:4,6)

(Sermon preached by Rev. Larry A. Langer, First Presbyterian Church, Jasper, IN, February 19, 2012)

Think with me about the highest place you have been and been able to stand. (Being in an airplane doesn’t count!) What have you stood on that somehow connected you to good ol’ terra firma?

Perhaps you have stood atop a mountain and looked at the vista. There are even places in Jasper where you can stand and see a lot of the city. In Oklahoma City, where the entire area is on flat ground, I have been to the roof of a thirty-seven story building and looked all around at the vista. I have been to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago and been able to take in that vista.

Anyone been to the top of the Empire State Building? It used to be that when a person wanted to talk about a vista, one would talk about “going up in the Empire State Building.”

Any of you been up in the Arch, the Gateway to the West, in St. Louis? There are great views of St. Louis to the west and the Mississippi River and Illinois to the east.

You know that one of my favorite poems is the one by Michael Quoist, a Catholic priest, entitled “I would like to Rise Very High.” It says, in part:

I would like to rise very high, Lord; above my city, Above the world, Above time.

I would like to purify my glance and borrow your eyes.

I would then see the universe, humanity, history, as the Father sees them.

I would see in the prodigious transformation of matter, In the perpetual seething of life, Your great body that is born of the breath of the Spirit.

I would see the beautiful, the eternal thought of your Father’s Love taking form, step by step:

Everything summed up in you, things on earth and things in heaven.

And I would see that today, like yesterday, the most minute details are part of it.

Everyone in their place, Every group and every object…

I would like to rise very high, Lord,

Above my city, Above the world, Above time.

I would like to purify my glance and borrow your eyes.

What about us? Wouldn’t we love to have our eyesight “purified” and borrow God’s eyes?

Actually, this is one of our desires as a Christian. As a Christians we desire to “grow in the grace and the knowledge of the Lord.” Our growth in the Lord is indicated as we feel more and more like an adult in God’s world, yet like children with each other in God’s world, and even more humble as we realize the more God has forgiven us.

Having eyesight purified by God does not mean that we could ever be like God, but it does mean that we would be one with the Lord in seeing and knowing the way the world is and what the world needs – and help the Lord carry it out. This could lead to our own prayer:

We would like to rise very high, Lord, Above our city, Above our world (however large or small “our world” is), Above time (especially the tyranny of time constraints) and see and act in the world as you do, Lord.

As Christians, wouldn’t we like to believe and behave this way?

Now, I don’t about you, but I have always been jealous of Peter, James and John. They got to rise very high, above their city, world and time, and see the world as God sees it. They got to see the very foundation of God’s world – the representatives of the Law of God in Moses, the Prophets of God in Elijah, and the grace of God in Jesus Christ.

And, as we would expect, they were “terrified.” Think about times that things were extremely unusual in your life. Think about when something was so shocking that it terrified you – a bump in the night, that split second before that other car hit you, the sound of the gun shot and zing of the bullet, the telephone call that summoned you to the hospital emergency room, the severe chest pains of the sudden inability to move. These are the times in our lives that terrify us.

But, I have never known anyone who has been terrified by seeing the Lord. Have you? We have read about this and other encounters with our Holy God in Scripture. But we don’t often say that we have seen a direct manifestation of God. I can testify that I have seen manifestations of the devil among us and among others and even participated in healings from these evil spirits and have seen the glory of God at work in that way.

I have heard the “still, small voice of God” when God invited me to be a pastor and when God invited me to be the pastor in the churches I have served. And, God has shown me, usually gently, but also very vividly, when I have been “going astray,” so to speak.

What about you? If you were asked to give a “spiritual autobiography” of your faith life, your life living as a child of God, what would you have to say?

As we think about the passage we have today, the passage we refer to as the “Transfiguration” passage, we can use it to help us formulate a spiritual autobiography of our life. Doing this doesn’t have to terrify us! In fact, the only reason it might terrify us is if we couldn’t describe the different aspects of our life that we have had with God. It might terrify us to realize that most of our life has been lived without really living it with God. It might terrify us to realize that even though we have been “church members” all our lives we haven’t been “God members” much at all. And, realizing this, it might terrify us to think about standing before God on judgment day.

So, what if we were to set off to write our spiritual autobiography? We could do so in three sections. We could use the outline that is displayed for us on the Mount of Transfiguration as we see Moses, Elijah and Jesus, the three examples of our spiritual life there.

As a matter of course, though, the very first thing we would want to do as we begin to consider our spiritual autobiography is we would want to pray. We would want to pray, not perfunctorily, but sincerely and honestly, even something like what we use as a “Prayer of Illumination” in our worship services. We might pay:

Lord, open to me:

Open to me – Light for my darkness.

Open to me – Hope for my despair.

Open to me – Peace for my turmoil.

Open to me – Joy for my sorrow.

Open to me – Strength for my weakness.

Open to me – Wisdom for my confusion.

Open to me – Forgiveness for my sin.

Open to me - Love for my hates.

Open to me – Thy Self for myself.

Lord, open to me! (Howard Thurman, 1900-1981)

Or, we could pray simply, “Remind me, O Lord, of my walk with you! Amen.

Then we could begin to recall, write, and relate.

First, we could think of Moses the Law Giver and recall the times, the specific times, we were aware of the Ten commandments and using them.

Perhaps we chose not to cuss, and we taught our children not to cuss, because it was “taking the Lord’s name in vain.” Perhaps we chose not to work or cause others to work, and we came to church because it was the Sabbath, and we were “remembering the Sabbath to keep it holy.” Perhaps we didn’t steal that package of gum off the counter, even as our friends dared us to, because the Commandment said, “Thou shalt not steal.” Perhaps we fended off an admirer who was attracted to us, because the commandment said, “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

Perhaps we rejoiced and helped our neighbor celebrate her new job or new car or new house without any jealousy, because the commandment said, “Thou shalt not covet.”

The only question to ask for this part of your spiritual autobiography is when did I follow the Ten commandments?

Then, the question to ask is, when did I listen to the prophecies of the Bible calling me home to God? This is what Elijah represents – the words that remind us of the holiness of God, the ungodliness of humankind, and the efforts at coming back to God. Here, part of what we would write about is those times when we did not follow the Ten Commandments, did feel God working in our lives and how we reacted and acted?

When did another believer cross our path and reminded us of how we weren’t being Christian? When did we sit with a friend who was troubled and convince him or her that God was a better way? When did we pray for something or someone to change – and it happened – or didn’t. Both successes and failures are part of our spiritual autobiography.

The third section in our spiritual autobiography is when did we see Jesus? When have we experienced the grace of God in Jesus Christ? We believe and say that he is “at the right hand of God the Father Almighty, from there he shall judge the living and the dead.” But, when have we experienced Jesus in, through and to us?

How about in his grace greater than all our sins? How about in his peace that passes our understanding? How about in accepting our real anger at him because of the great disappointment we have experienced, and loving us until we aren’t angry anymore? How about Jesus sticking with us when everyone – everyone else - around us goes away? Can we write about these times? Can we write about the deep, deep love of Jesus?

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free,

Rolling as a mighty ocean, In its fullness over me.

Underneath me, all around me, Is the current of Thy love;

Leading onward, leading homeward To my glorious rest above.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus,

Leading onward, leading homeward to our glorious rest above.

Does this terrify us or does it comfort us? Does it terrify us to think about our spiritual autobiography, or does it strengthen our faith to recognize the times we have walked with God?

You know, it seems that we have just gotten out of the Christmas season. Oh, we have just had Valentine Day, but in the church it feels to me like we have just finished Christmas. But this Wednesday we start the season of Lent already, the season that leads to Holy Week, with Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. This is why the Lord led me to speak about us writing our spiritual autobiography.

The season of Lent is THE season for our personal introspection of how our walk with the Lord is going. It is THE season of self-examination in the light of the Law of Moses, the prophets like Elijah, and the saving grace of God in Jesus Christ.

As your spiritual leader, then, and as a fellow traveler on this journey through Lent, I would encourage us to especially consider our spiritual autobiography this year. I would also encourage us to be in church each Sunday, but also each Wednesday evening at 6:30 for our Lenten Vesper time, a time of quiet consideration of the book of James and the things of God. We will use the Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs as we worship, pray and ask God for healing and increase.

We will also have a theme song, “Now the Day is Over,” which we will use each week.

I believe this is what we are called to do, even by the Lord God himself: Be together each week during Lent for His word. Won’t we join together for such a time as this?

Wouldn’t you like to rise very high, Above our city, Above our world and Above time and purify your glance and borrow God’s eyes?