March 12, 2006
(Second Sunday in Lent)
Lent is All About Love
by The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean
Genesis 22:1-14 • Psalm 16 or 16:5-11 •
Romans 8:31-39 • Mark 8:31-38
(From
The Lectionary Page)
At this point in my Christian journey, when I think of Lent I also think of Michael Jordan.
Timothy was born in Plymouth, Wisconsin on the first Sunday in Lent, which in 1991 was February 17. A devout Chicago bulls fan in the delivery room pointed out that that day was Michael Jordan’s birthday, and was disappointed that we did not name him Michael.
Rebekah was born in Evanston, Illinois, four years later on March 18. She was born shortly after the end of a press conference where Michael Jordan announced that he was coming out of retirement to return to the NBA. Several devout Bulls fans in that delivery room were disappointed that we did not name her either Michelle or Jordan.
Those two Lenten seasons with newborns at home certainly altered how I looked at Lent. Giving up something for Lent was easy those years – we gave up sleep. But perhaps for the first time, I came to associate Lent primarily with something other than sin. And I don’t mean Michael Jordan.
In Yann Martel’s wonderful novel Life of Pi, twelve-year-old Pi decides to explore a number of different religions in his native India. He has a rather remarkable reflection on a conversation he had with a Roman Catholic priest, Father Martin, about the crucifixion.
Pi thinks to himself:
“That a god should put up with adversity, I could understand. The gods of Hinduism face their fair share of thieves, bullies, kidnappers and usurpers …. But humiliation? Death? I couldn’t imagine Lord Krishna consenting to be stripped naked, whipped, mocked, dragged through the streets and, to top it off, crucified -- and at the hands of mere humans, to boot. I’d never heard of a Hindu god dying. Brahman Revealed did not go for death. Devils and monsters did, as did mortals, by the thousands and millions – that’s what they were there for. But divinity should not be blighted by death. It’s wrong. It was wrong of this Christian God to let His avatar (His Son) die.
The Son must have the taste of death forever in His mouth. The Trinity must be tainted by it; there must be a certain stench at the right hand of God the Father. The horror must be real. Why would God wish that upon Himself? Why not leave death to the mortals?
Why make dirty what is beautiful, spoil what is perfect?
Love. That was Father Martin’s answer.” Love.
Pi sounds a little bit like Peter. What would Our Lord have said if Pi had been having his conversation with Jesus in today’s Gospel instead of with Father Martin. We might wonder if Jesus would have responded the same way to Pi as he did to Peter, because actually neither Pi nor Peter can quite believe that suffering, rejection, and death could be a part of Jesus’ life story. Jesus’ response to Peter is startling. “Get behind me, Satan. For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” We might actually feel for Peter. It couldn’t have been easy to hear your leader say he was going to suffer and die. “What kind of god would suffer and die for humans?” we hear Pi ask. Love was Father Martin’s answer. (The Rev’d Suzanne Metz, Sermons That Work, Lent 2, Year B 2005-2006)
A favorite hymn begins with these words:
O Love How Deep, How Broad, How High.
How passing thought and fantasy!
That God, the Son of God should
Take our mortal form for mortal’s sake.
Indeed, it was because of Love.
Lent would be worth every moment of its forty days if we could grasp even a bit more of the depth of God’s Love. How different our own lives, our parish, and this city would be if God’s unconditional love which first endured and then overcame suffering, death, and the grave could infect us and lead us to overcome hunger, poverty, injustice, infant mortality, and violence. What must you and I die to in order for God’s love to capture more of our energy, imagination, and money?
As I said Timothy was born the afternoon of the First Sunday in Lent, and as the lectionary cycle would have it, the next week these lessons came up including Abraham and Isaac. The story cut me to the quick and I found that I could not refer to the first lesson at all in the homily but dealt exclusively with the Gospel.
A few days later, Tim’s constant crying led to a visit to the doctor which in turn led to a decision to immediately perform surgery. When I say immediately I mean that the doctor said after the exam, “I’ve already called ahead. Walk across the parking lot to the hospital and take the elevator to the second floor. They are expecting you.”
I will never forget that when the elevator doors opened, a surgical team of five people, already gowned, met us. I was holding Tim, and a nurse said to me, “Give me your son.” I looked at Linda Sue then back to the nurse. I guess that it was a combination of shock, trust, and faith that enabled us to hand him over. Later I said to Linda Sue, “He’s not baptized.” And what I can only describe as a wave of grace came over us. God provided.
Our prayer book calls this Genesis story “Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac,” but Jewish scholars call this story “The binding of Isaac.” Jim Jennings told me of an area rabbi who commented on the graphic nature of this story, and did not avoid the hard questions this text raises. After many people said they were disturbed by Abraham’s actions and even condemned his willingness to go so far as to place Isaac, bound, on an altar, the rabbi then asked, “What are the altars you and I place our children upon? As parents, and as society? Not at God’s command, but altars created by us?”
I would add a second question: Abraham did not withhold his child from God. Can we say the same? Abraham’s faith is seen in two places. First, he tells the servants to wait here while the boy and I go and worship, and then we will return to you. Second, Abraham insisted that God would provide a ram, a lamb for the sacrifice, and God did. How certain are we that God provided what we need to offer a true sacrifice of love and praise? Are we confident that by taking up our Cross we are forever in Jesus care?
Father Martin replied to Pi: Love. That’s what God provides.
My final point. Jimmy Carter, in his book Our Endangered Values tells of Dr. Jimmy Allen, the last moderate president of the Southern Baptist Convention, whose family, Mr. Carter writes, “has suffered severely from the ravages of AIDS and the refusal of some Baptist congregations to accept some of the Allen family into Christian fellowship.” Dr. Allen says, “The Church’s problem is not defining sin; it is understanding grace.” (p.67)
Observing a holy Lent does not mean to dwell on sin. Lent is a time to immerse ourselves in grace. To claim it, to live it, to share it as if grace were ours to give.
My friends: I know the catechetical definitions of “love” and “grace” and the theological differences. But in living out our baptism, I see the two completely intertwined.
As Father Martin answered Pi, God has done was God has done because of Love. Therefore, we must live out what called has us to do because of grace and love, too.
This love enables us to trust and believe and live confident that God shall provide a place for us eternal in the heavens. This love enables us to take up our Cross and without counting the cost, follow Christ and live as Christ teaches.
This love enables us to endure pain and disappointment and rejection because as Paul preaches nothing in all creation can separate us from the Love of God, not even death.
May that Love of God in Christ be real for you. May it fortify you, mold you, and motivate you, that God’s forgiveness and healing may be yours. And may this divine Love lead the Church to pay more attention to the gift of grace and die to judging sin and sinners. This Lent, let us cleanse our hearts and prepare with joy for the Paschal Feast, for a holy Lent is all about love and grace.
