"The Journey of Lent – We are Not Alone"
Pastor Susan Langhauser
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Luke 4:1-13
All indications are favorable for a “perfect Lent:” we have an economic recession, the relatively rare convergence of Orthodox and Protestant calendars such that we will celebrate Lent, Holy Week and Easter all on the same days as our Orthodox brothers and sisters, and (if today’s weather continues for much longer) what seems to be a never-ending winter!
And yet it began again as it will end again…in the dark. Quiet. Focused. Ash Wednesday through the Great Vigil. Lent began for us again this year in the darkness of this sanctuary, and it will end the next time we come here late at night to sit vigil for the first signs of Easter dawn. When we gathered we came for ashes - reminders of repentance and our mortality - and Holy Communion - the nourishment for our daily discipleship
by the bread of life and the wine of contentment.
Did you ever think about how some of the most important stuff in Jesus’ life happened in the darkness of night? His birth; the encounter with Nicodemus, a Pharisee seeking something more under cover of darkness, whose exchange with Jesus was captured by the gospel writer to give us our most well-known Bible passage, “For God so loved the world…” The Last Supper that Jesus ate with his closest companions and friends, the prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane, the betrayal, trial, and crucifixion, which brought darkness over the whole earth at around 3 in the afternoon. And let us not forget the Resurrection happened at night…it was only discovered in the light of Easter dawn.
Night. Darkness. Winter. Wilderness. Death. Lent: it’s no wonder people say that Lent is so depressing! It all seem so negative, and yet each of these has an alternate side – a positive, necessary side
like two opposite sides of the same coin; neither side to be especially desired or avoided. We live between these two sides of the coin. Between Night and day; Light and darkness, Spring and winter, Lent and Easter.
Last week I returned from the trip of a lifetime, from a mountaintop experience that I was not looking forward to having end. And yet I expected to return to the “routine” of life at Advent, but no! It’s Lent – and for me, this year’s Lent will look extraordinarily different to me, as I approach the traditional Lenten disciplines with different eyes. Prayer – Fasting – the Giving of Alms will all remind me of people of God on the other side of the world. When I lead our Prayers at Noon I will pray for strength for Christians who are still persecuted for their faith. When I fast – and I encourage you to do some fasting in small portions are large at some point this year – I know I will experience the clarity that fasting brings, a clarity that is borne out of refocusing my thoughts away from food: it’s preparation and consumption, the choosing, buying, serving and cleaning up after. So much time expended. And giving alms. Now I know we are all a generous people. But I commend to you the practice of seeking out a new recipient for the giving of your generous gifts this Lent. Find a cause that touches your heart, then be generous in giving out of your abundance.
Last week you, too, were coming down off the Mountain of Transfiguration and the joy of baptizing three infants and celebrating their entry into the Kingdom of God. But just like Jesus, they will have their own
post-baptism lives in the wilderness, and they will find in their own time what makes living in Christ a wilderness of communion with God.
Vicar Anteneh reminded us also last week that there is an historical query that seems to define us as we live from mountaintop to wilderness and back again. “Who is Jesus?” Wars have been fought over that question. Churches have formed and split and reformed as we human struggle to answer that question. And yet the scripture give us the answer. As we concluded the Epiphany season that reveals Christ to us, we heard God’s voice answering that very question with a clear, “This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to Him!”
We know the answer to the question direct from God the Father. And we hear the illustration of today’s story as Jesus answering that question for his disciples, as he must have shared this encounter with them at some point in their time together. We know who Jesus is. And because of that knowledge, Christian all over the world have sought out each other so that we can fulfill Jesus’ desire for us “that we may all be one.”
On my journey, I was privileged to meet leaders of churches who continue to strive to be one with each other. In London we met with the Archbishop of Canterbury, leader of a church that was formed because King Henry VIII wanted a divorce that Rome would not grant. In Istanbul, the Ecumenical Patriarch leads a minority faith in an Arab country, where his safety is at risk every day. When asked why he stays and doesn’t just move to a safer location, the Patriarch reiterated that he is the symbol of Christ on earth for millions of Orthodox Christians. Istanbul has been the center of their religious life since the 4th century. On to Rome and an encounter with the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI. It was there where we heard about the one thing that forges the identity of the Roman Catholic church: agreement. As Lutherans, we scratched our heads…and then journeyed on to Geneva and other Protestant groups like the World Council of Churches, the Lutheran World Federation and the World Association of Reformed Churches – all groups that have founded their expressions of faith on the possibilities for dis-agreement! Yes, we are all Christians – followers of Jesus of Nazareth – and even thought we aren’t One, we are not alone by any stretch of the imagination.
While we were in Istanbul, we visited a huge cathedral built in the 3rd century (that’s the 200’s!) This Byzantine structure was covered inside with mosaics and frescoes of Christian life and stories of Jesus. A few hundred years later, Turkey became predominantly Islamic, and the Hagia Sophia church became a mosque. All of the Christian symbolism and artwork was either removed, destroyed or covered over with plaster. In the central dome of this cathedral (as in most cathedrals of this time period) there would have been a depiction of Jesus called Christos Pantocrator (Savior of the World.) But today, all you can see is plaster covering the dome.
I asked our guide if it didn’t make him angry, knowing that Jesus’ face had been covered up in this way. “No,” he said definitively. “We can’t see Him, but we know he’s there.”
Where do you feel God’s presence in your daily wilderness? For me, it came in a powerful way during our visit to the Catacombs of Calixtus, underneath the old city of Rome. Now, many of you have heard stories of the early Christians in Rome escaping persecution by hiding in the catacombs, or perhaps meeting there in secret. However, having been in those tunnels, I would agree with most scholars who say that was not the case. You only need stand in those catacombs to understand why. We entered and almost immediately began going down. Down long, dusty earthen corridors – with slots carved out of the rock walls for the wrapped bodies to be laid. Twelve miles of underground network – burial grounds on three levels beneath the city, the heart of the Roman Empire.
Imagine the smell of all those corpses, hidden away in their burial slots because it was illegal to bury a Christian. Imagine the darkness of those ancient corridors, with walls no more than a handwidth away from the passage space. Imagine the fear of being trapped 40 feet underground, or lost in the maze of hundreds of twists and turns. Imagine the grief that hangs in the air, of 150,000 lost in faith – martyred because of their belief in Jesus of Nazareth.
Now imagine the presiding bishop breaking a loaf of bread and pouring wine. Hear the familiar words that were first spoken 2,000 years ago, by the son of God. Take his body and blood into your body and blood, and feel the presence of the body of Christ, the communion of saints of that time, and this time, and every time and place. Now sing, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow...Praise God, all creatures here below.”
You are connected to God by Christians across time and history. You can’t see them, but you know they’re there. It is Lent, and we are not alone on the journey. Amen.