On the other side of the wilderness
Commentary
I teach two classes titled "Introduction to Preaching." The syllabus created by the department requires that the students preach their first sermon on an assigned gospel lesson. For the purposes of efficient faculty preparation the choices are limited to two readings. In the period of three weeks, I listened to 18 sermons on Mark 1:1-8. While the students were worried about trying to say something different, I was amazed at the diversity of the sermons. After you get past John the Baptist, how much can a preacher squeeze out of the beginning of Mark's Gospel? Well, more than I thought and more than the students thought as well.
One interesting aspect of the various perspectives arose in the preachers' treatment of the wilderness, as in "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness" (Mark 1:3). There in the classroom we heard about wilderness desert, wilderness desolation, wilderness darkness, and the wild of the wilderness. Preachers reminded us of the history of the wilderness in scripture. The wilderness bears witness to the faithfulness and patience of God in the midst of the people's wanderings and complaints. Some students developed John the Baptist as a wilderness character. Others encouraged the listeners to name the wilderness parts of their lives. And week by week, all of us who were wrestling with the text, were reminded once again that the witness to the gospel in Mark began out in that wilderness.
As the church looks to the First Sunday in Lent, one of the first images to come into our collective minds must be that of Christ alone in the wilderness for 40 days. The church likes to hang on to calendars and time, so the 40-day rationale helps to frame our experience of Lent. And, of course, the role of Satan and temptation triggers our fascination. The life cycle approach to the seasons of the church year also supports our 40 days of wilderness experience in Lent. As Christ prepared for his ministry there in the wilderness, we now prepare for his suffering and death through the weeks of prayer and fasting. The image of Christ in the wilderness rests deep within the church's tradition of Lent.
The challenge for this year on the First Sunday in Lent comes in Mark's treatment of Christ's encounter with Satan there in the wilderness. Perhaps we should say his bare treatment. As our discussion below will affirm, Mark is quick to move on to the teaching, preaching, and healing that comes in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Mark's reader has little time to linger in the wilderness, let alone 40 days! In addition, the text from 1 Peter introduces a different time frame for consideration. Here, even at the beginning of Lent, the church hears about life, death, and resurrection. Instead of standing on the threshold of another 40 days, maybe our lectionary assignment is foreshadowing and inviting contemplation of three days. And with those three days -- still weeks away in the church's liturgical celebration -- with those three days, the church is invited to reflect on our journey on the other side of the wilderness.
Genesis 9:8-17
With this selection from chapter 9 of Genesis, the preacher is invited to drop into the end of the narrative that tells of Noah and the great flood. There is no lectio continuo reading through Genesis being offered here. The preacher will notice, however, that this brief reading that tells of God's covenant with Noah will be followed on the Second Sunday in Lent by the text in Genesis 17 that includes God's covenant with Abraham. While the lectionary in this section of the cycle does not offer a week-by-week journey in a particular Old Testament book, a continuity of theme is evident.
Readers will want to encounter the entire flood narrative as it begins in Genesis 6. The more relevant context for the assigned text begins at the end of Genesis 8 as God promises to never curse the ground because of humankind (8:21). While responding to the pleasing odor of Noah's burnt offering, the voice of God affirms the reality of evil in the human heart. God's commitment to never curse the ground sets up the broader covenant offered to Noah in Genesis 9. Both of those promises stem from an acknowledgment of the human condition rather than some affirmation of humanity's potential.
In the first part of Genesis 9 God blesses Noah and his sons and entrusts them once again with the care of creation. Dominion over the earth comes with some dietary guidelines (9:4) and an affirmation of the imago dei as God invokes a prohibition against taking the life of another human being (9:6). The timeless command to "be fruitful and multiply" (9:7) then echoes in the ears of Noah and his sons as God begins to voice the words of the covenant.
The language of covenant defines this text. The breadth of God's covenant extends to creation itself (v. 10). God's promise includes that breadth of creation that had been welcomed into the safety of the ark during the time of the flood. God's specific promise entails "never again" destroying the earth nor cutting off life with such flood waters (v. 11). Given that prior acknowledgment of the reality of the human heart and the magnitude of the flood waters just experienced, God offers a sign that accompanies the spoken promise.
The sign of the rainbow set in the sky is not only a reminder of the promise to Noah, God announces that it is "a sign of the covenant between me and the earth" (v. 14). The language of the promise continually extends to all of creation. While God affirms to Noah that this rainbow in the sky shall be the sign of the covenant, the sign seems to be intended to remind God rather than humanity. Two different times God claims that the purpose of the bow in the sky is to foster the divine remembering (vv. 15, 16). The link here to the flood narrative should not be missed. For the climax of that drama occurs at the very beginning of Genesis 8 as "God remembered Noah" and all the animals that were with him on the ark (8:1).
In his commentary on Genesis, Walter Brueggemann reminds the reader that the dynamic character in this flood narrative is God. It is God who decides to "never again" destroy the earth with such natural means. It is God who remembers Noah in the midst of the flood. It is God who acknowledges the depth of evil in the human heart. And it is God who places the bow in the sky as something of a reminder to God himself. The rainbow symbolizes both the breadth of the covenant that includes creation and the length of the covenant here described as everlasting (v. 16).
Brueggemann also suggests that any connection between that evil of the human heart and divine retribution experienced in the forces of nature was forever broken (Genesis, 84.). Any destruction found within the creation itself should not be linked to the anger or the punishment of God. For God's love of creation and God's promise spoken are affirmed in the words "never again."
The grace of God is etched into the heavens with that sign of the rainbow. The gospel word here at the end of the flood narrative is to be remembered in the words "never again" and "covenant between me and the earth" and "I will remember." The dynamic character in the story may be God. The everlasting nature of the promise affirms once again what is "the breadth and the length and the height and the depth" of God's love and grace.
1 Peter 3:18-22
The epistle assignment for this First Sunday in Lent seems to be one of those "close-cut" lections that begins right in the middle of a chapter, a thought, an argument. Anytime the lectionary text begins right in the middle of what translation committees have determined is an existing paragraph, the preacher knows a little bit of work is yet to come. Here in 1 Peter, the author is addressing a church of Gentile Christians struggling to identify themselves in the midst of the pagan world and in the face of suffering and persecution. The language of salvation and Christology fill the first two chapters as the faithful are offered encouragement. Some have suggested the teaching found in the letter is part of catechetical instruction in preparation for one's baptism. Certainly by looking to the person and work of Christ, the author of 1 Peter exhorts the readers to claim their own identity as "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people" (2:9).
The text in chapter 3 comes after the soaring language of those first two chapters. Following conversation about the slave and master relationship, and that of wife and husband, the author moves into topics that are more challenging for the contemporary interpreter. But here at the end of chapter 3 the content again shifts to a discussion of suffering and persecution. Verses 8-17 reveal the author's encouragement to those who are being persecuted because of their faith. "But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed" (v. 14). "For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God's will, than to suffer for doing evil" (v. 17). Here in these few verses, the author of 1 Peter wrestles with a theology of suffering while proclaiming hope and perseverance to a church in the midst of struggle.
The prior context for this assigned section of 1 Peter 3 is that discussion of suffering. Those ever-challenging areas of slavery and marriage may overshadow one's reading by the end of the chapter. But rather than launching into a longer conversation about the church's suffering, with this lesson the author turns to the suffering of Christ. In these few verses, 1 Peter offers a theology of the atonement and an emphasis on the work of Christ revealed in his death and resurrection. At first glance the lectionary cutting of verses may seem puzzling. However, the author returns to where the epistle began. While it may seem like a sudden start for a reading at verse 18, that is where we return to the language of Christology and salvation.
The suffering of Christ is compared to the current suffering of Christians who are suffering for their righteousness. Of course, Christ suffering is beyond comparison in that it is "once for all" and that it serves to "bring you to God" (v. 18). In the face of his own bodily death, Christ was made alive in the spirit and his work continued in that proclamation to the "spirits in prison." The symbol of those who were disobedient in the time of Noah represents all who have died. Here is one of the few biblical references available to help pastors explain that phrase in the Creed, "He descended into hell." While any interpretation of this verse and the discussion of the imagery of prison and those in Noah's day is very difficult, at the very least, it would appear that the work of Christ continued even in his death. The writer moves from that discussion of his death in the flesh right through to his resurrection and ascension.
Another symbol that leaps from the page is the talk of the waters of baptism. Here in 1 Peter, baptism is not simply for the cleansing of the body. It is a sign itself that makes an appeal to God. While some may be drawn into the discussion of whether baptism is "unto salvation," the language seems to imply that baptism itself is an intercessory prayer to God. The seal of baptism is a sign of God's grace and a sign of the church's prayer invoking that grace for all who believe. Given the praise and adoration offered for the work of Christ through 1 Peter, it is appropriate that this last verse of chapter 3 end with acclamation of his heavenly lordship, for all angels, authorities, and powers are subject to him (v. 22). Creation and the cosmos itself are included the divine reign of Christ.
Mark 1:9-15
For the disciplined lectionary preacher, a stop back at Mark 1 is a bit challenging. We visited Mark 1 on the Second Sunday of Advent this year and then went back to there on the Sunday of the Baptism of Christ in January. With Mark playing such a primary role in this year's gospel selections, it should not be surprising to come back at the beginning of Lent. Maybe it's not surprising, but it's not any easier either. Back to Mark, chapter 1, back to the baptism of Jesus, back to Jesus in the wilderness, back to those first words of Jesus in Mark's Gospel, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news," back to "the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" (Mark 1:1).
Traditionally the church's celebration of Lent ties into the experience of Jesus in the wilderness being tempted by Satan as he prepares for his life's ministry. With this breakdown of verses, the gospel lesson begins not in the wilderness but at that baptism of Jesus by John as the heavens are torn apart. The cosmos itself joins the voice of God in proclaiming Jesus as the Son of God. Readers familiar with Mark will recognize this gospel writer's signature in the word "immediately." With more than just a word, Mark's brevity of description plays a role here. The experience in the wilderness falls into just two verses. What Matthew and Luke describe in 10 verses or so, Mark rushes right by. There is no dialogue with Satan, no scripture quotes from Jesus, just the temptations named, the wild beasts mentioned, and the angels sent to serve the Messiah.
The Lord's first words in Mark come after his arrival at Galilee, which marks the start of the earthly ministry. The Good News is mentioned again by Mark as he emphasizes the beginning of this gospel word. Before Jesus calls the disciples, heals the sick and casts out demons, he announces that the kingdom has come near and that the time has been fulfilled (v. 15). For Mark that fulfillment comes not necessarily in what Jesus does, but in who he is. The kingdom's inauguration comes not with a miraculous act but with a miraculous word. That word, to pick up on this gospel writer's emphasis, is a word of Good News, a gospel word. This shortest, and what many to consider to be the earliest of the Gospels, begins with Good News. The word of Good News proclaims Jesus Christ as the Son of God.
Application
Historically Lent was understood as a time of catechetical preparation prior to one's baptism at the Easter vigil on the eve of the resurrection day. That period of study certainly would include a commitment to the disciplined spiritual life, including the practices of prayer and fasting. However, that broad experience of Lent went beyond looking to the Lord's own experience in the wilderness as a prototype for the church's period of penance before Easter. Christ's encounter with Satan that included temptation and dialogue must certainly be viewed as something more than a simple comparison to the temptations and disciplines of the faithful. In fact, any such comparison between our faith practices and that of Jesus must be avoided.
Mark's Gospel lection invites a consideration of Lent that goes beyond the wilderness. For rather than pausing there for any significant development of the wilderness as symbol, Mark leaps to the proclamation of Jesus related to the reign of the kingdom of God. The preacher can take the time to reflect again on these gospel beginnings. For Mark, the Good News begins with the Lord's own announcement of that ministry that now begins. Knowing the brevity of Mark's style and work, the preacher should ponder that Mark will not come up for air in this gospel until the reader reaches the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The Good News may start now here in chapter 1, but you can't comprehend it until you reach the end and then begin again.
This year the church is invited to stand on the front steps of Lent and look toward that end (or beginning) that comes at the cross and resurrection. Rather than choosing to focus on our preparation and discipline, the church can choose an extended look at the cross and the work of Christ that draws us ever closer to that experience of salvation.
The focus, then, is not on the 40 days of preparation. It may be 40 days of reflection on those three holy days between Good Friday and Easter. With the help of the reading from 1 Peter, the preacher may choose to draw attention even this First Sunday in Lent to Christ's suffering (Friday), his proclamation to those in prison (Saturday), and his resurrection and ultimate ascension (Sunday). It may be time for the church to proclaim once again that Lent is really not about us. It is about beginning (again) of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Alternative Applications
1) The lectionary-based connection between the Genesis text and the 1 Peter text, both of which mention Noah, seems almost too simplistic. A desire for those connections is often shallow and leads to shallow sermons as well. Here on the First Sunday in Lent, however, a more meaningful connection comes not in the name of Noah but in the sacramental signs.
In many congregations, Communion will be celebrated on the First Sunday in Lent. Preachers may choose to ponder the theology in these texts of signs and things signified. When placing Communion within covenantal history, the liturgical equation of word + sign = sacrament is given its context. The text from Genesis reminds us that the sign served to remind God. In both baptism and Communion, the respective signs serve as a witness to God as well. 1 Peter describes that baptismal sign as an appeal to God. A Communion celebration is a sign that offers thanks to God as well. While avoiding any language of sacrifice, the bread broken and cup lifted can certainly serve as signs of our lives offered in praise and thanksgiving to God.
2) Mark 1:9-15. Because of the conciseness of Mark's Gospel, the three major events in the life of Jesus are reported in these six verses: his baptism, his temptations, the opening of his ministry.
Aren't there times in our spiritual lives when events move just about that fast? We barely have time to reflect on our mountaintop experiences before some nasty temptation or some call to mission comes along. The pace of life itself can be dizzying enough, but when things of eternal importance are happening just as rapidly, we can miss their significance.
This scripture provides a good opportunity to talk about the importance of a devotional life, a spiritual discipline one imposes on one's days that allows at least a few minutes daily for listening and meditation.
Methodism's founder caught fire for God in a religious experience in a building on Aldersgate Street in London. But it didn't just happen. Wesley biographer Basil Miller points out that it was Wesley's spiritual disciplines beforehand that helped to set the stage: "It was the methodical manner of dealing with his own soul, the springs of his emotions, the curbing of his passions, the exalting of God through prayer that in the end was to produce Aldersgate" (Basil Miller, John Wesley, p. 26).
First Lesson Focus
Genesis 9:8-17
We are dealing in this text with the attitude of God toward a world gone bad. We could watch the drift of the world toward that evil state all though the initial stories of Genesis, which are intended to be the stories of how all of us have walked in relation to our God. God created the world very good (Genesis 1:31), but then we read of the sin of male and female and their disruption of their joyful marital state, until finally they brought upon themselves the corruption of all of God's good gifts and the sentence of death. There followed the story of brotherly hatred for brother, in the tale of Cain and Abel, climaxed then by the notice of Lamech's hatred for all humankind, so that it is clear that the sin of human beings has spread through God's good creation and corrupted it all.
The result is that God is sorry that he has made humankind and it grieves him to his heart (Genesis 6:6). He therefore determines to destroy his creation in the time of Noah and just to start all over again. And there follows in Genesis 7-8, God's elimination of his first creation by the waters of a flood that covers everything.
To understand the seriousness of God's judgment upon his creation gone bad, we must understand the nature of the waters that cover the earth in the priestly story of the flood. We have two versions of the flood story woven together in Genesis 7 and 8, and in one of the versions, the flood is simply the result of rain falling upon the earth 40 days and 40 nights (Genesis 12). But in the other version, which comes out of priestly tradition, the waters of the flood are those of the great deep, of the great tehom that is mentioned at the beginning of Genesis (1:2)
Genesis 1 tells us that before God created the world, there was nothing but waste and void (tohu wabbohu), the void of nothingness, and characterizing that void, that waste were chaotic waters, a great deep covering the whole. Thus the great tehom stands for the chaos that was the world before God ever began his creation. It stands for the disorder, the darkness, the evil that were present before God said, "Let there be light," all symbolized in that figure of chaotic waters.
In the story of the flood, then, the priestly writers tell us that those chaotic waters, the great deep, are what God looses upon his creation (Genesis 7:11). And that is simply another way of saying that God takes back his creation. He reverses its order, its light, its goodness, and returns it to its original chaotic state before there ever was a creation. (We find the same figure in Jeremiah's fearful portrayal of the last judgment in Jeremiah 4:23-26.) God who is sorry that he has made humankind upon the earth destroys all that has caused him such grief.
If that were all there is in the story then it would be a fearful portrayal of the nature of the Creator, a picture of a God who only judges and who destroys all things because of the sin of humankind. But of course that is not all there is, is it? The great grieving heart cannot give up all that he has made in the beginning, and so in an act of pure grace, he saves Noah and his family, and representatives of all living creatures that are upon the face of the earth, protecting them in the ark from the chaos that engulfs the world. God throughout the scriptures is the Lord who wants life and not death, and so he preserves alive both man and beast from the destruction that engulfs the creation.
Indeed, at the end of the flood, when Noah and all the living things with him have gone forth from the ark, the Lord grants Noah (and therefore humankind) an even fuller life than they have had before. To be sure, humankind has not improved and will not improve. "For the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth" (8:21). Nevertheless, the Lord makes the promise that he will not again destroy every living creature, but that "while the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night shall not cease" (8:22). And so you and I and all living creatures can count on the regular rhythm of the seasons, because God faithfully keeps that word.
More than that, the Lord grants to human beings a richer diet of food. In the beginning, according to Genesis 1:29, humankind was granted only a vegetarian diet, but now, according to 9:3, human beings are also given meat to eat. One stipulation is that no meat be eaten with the blood in it, for blood is the bearer of life, and all life belongs to God. Equally, whoever kills a human being deserves the penalty of death, for all persons are made in the image of God and belong inseparably to him as his creatures. God, the Lord and Giver of life, preserves and protects the life that belongs solely to him.
In addition, to the riches of grace that God grants all human beings, he renews his special blessing whereby human beings are enabled to be fruitful and multiply. The ability to propagate is not granted automatically either to human beings or to other living creatures, but is given by the special blessing of God (cf. 1:28, 22). All forms of life come only from the working of God, who is the Lord over all life.
Finally, in our text, there follows the account of God's establishment of the Noachic covenant. With no deserving on the part of human beings, God promises Noah and his descendants -- and therefore you and me -- that he will never again let the waters of the great tehom, of the great deep, cover the earth. That is, God will never again take back his creation and return the earth to its chaotic state, to its nothingness, to its void that it was before God spoke his creating world. By the goodness of God, the creation will remain, whether we deserve its preservation or not.
That promise is made not only to human beings, but to all living creatures, and God binds himself to his creation as the one who will preserve it. Further, as the sign of his promise, God sets his rainbow in the clouds -- the sign that though storm and chaos appear imminent, they are not the harbingers of God's destruction of his creation.
It's all the story of the attitude of a gracious God toward his creation gone bad. In his grief over our sinfulness, God has the power to take back his creation and to do away with all that he has made. The story of the flood makes that very clear. But it also makes clear that despite our continuing sin, God wishes life and good for us and for all his creatures. It makes clear that the grace of God finally prevails through all of his actions, and that we can have life and have it abundantly from his hand if we trust his grace and love.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 25:1-10
In his recent study on the Psalms, (Seeing the Psalms: A Theology of Metaphor [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002]), William P. Brown asserts that while there are many metaphors used in the psalms, two overarching ones are "refuge" and "path." Both are equally important, says Brown, and both are metaphors for torah. Refuge symbolizes both the home and destiny for the righteous aspects of torah while path connotes movement and direction, the response to God's torah, the kind of conduct prescribed by the torah. Psalm 25 gives us opportunity to talk especially about that path.
The psalmist prays, "Make known to me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth ..." (vv. 4-5a). And again, "He leads the humble ... All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness ..." (vv. 9a, 10a).
The psalmist's "path" is the way of living prescribed by God. Did the first-century Christians have the psalm metaphor in mind when they called Christianity "the way"? (Acts 9:2; 18:25-26).
For sermonic treatment, consider what Psalm 25 tells us about the godly path:
* First, it is not necessarily a way that people know intuitively. Why else the petitions: "Make me know" and "teach me"? (v. 4).
* Second, it is not a route we walk alone. That's why the psalmist prayed, "Lead me" (v. 5). Note that this is "Lead me," not "Carry me." This is not a maudlin "Footprints in the Sand" story!
* Third, it is a path sinners are invited to walk (v. 8), with the understanding that walking the path leads away from sin and toward the good and upright Lord.
* Fourth, all the ways of God are characterized as steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his torah (v. 10).
One interesting aspect of the various perspectives arose in the preachers' treatment of the wilderness, as in "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness" (Mark 1:3). There in the classroom we heard about wilderness desert, wilderness desolation, wilderness darkness, and the wild of the wilderness. Preachers reminded us of the history of the wilderness in scripture. The wilderness bears witness to the faithfulness and patience of God in the midst of the people's wanderings and complaints. Some students developed John the Baptist as a wilderness character. Others encouraged the listeners to name the wilderness parts of their lives. And week by week, all of us who were wrestling with the text, were reminded once again that the witness to the gospel in Mark began out in that wilderness.
As the church looks to the First Sunday in Lent, one of the first images to come into our collective minds must be that of Christ alone in the wilderness for 40 days. The church likes to hang on to calendars and time, so the 40-day rationale helps to frame our experience of Lent. And, of course, the role of Satan and temptation triggers our fascination. The life cycle approach to the seasons of the church year also supports our 40 days of wilderness experience in Lent. As Christ prepared for his ministry there in the wilderness, we now prepare for his suffering and death through the weeks of prayer and fasting. The image of Christ in the wilderness rests deep within the church's tradition of Lent.
The challenge for this year on the First Sunday in Lent comes in Mark's treatment of Christ's encounter with Satan there in the wilderness. Perhaps we should say his bare treatment. As our discussion below will affirm, Mark is quick to move on to the teaching, preaching, and healing that comes in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Mark's reader has little time to linger in the wilderness, let alone 40 days! In addition, the text from 1 Peter introduces a different time frame for consideration. Here, even at the beginning of Lent, the church hears about life, death, and resurrection. Instead of standing on the threshold of another 40 days, maybe our lectionary assignment is foreshadowing and inviting contemplation of three days. And with those three days -- still weeks away in the church's liturgical celebration -- with those three days, the church is invited to reflect on our journey on the other side of the wilderness.
Genesis 9:8-17
With this selection from chapter 9 of Genesis, the preacher is invited to drop into the end of the narrative that tells of Noah and the great flood. There is no lectio continuo reading through Genesis being offered here. The preacher will notice, however, that this brief reading that tells of God's covenant with Noah will be followed on the Second Sunday in Lent by the text in Genesis 17 that includes God's covenant with Abraham. While the lectionary in this section of the cycle does not offer a week-by-week journey in a particular Old Testament book, a continuity of theme is evident.
Readers will want to encounter the entire flood narrative as it begins in Genesis 6. The more relevant context for the assigned text begins at the end of Genesis 8 as God promises to never curse the ground because of humankind (8:21). While responding to the pleasing odor of Noah's burnt offering, the voice of God affirms the reality of evil in the human heart. God's commitment to never curse the ground sets up the broader covenant offered to Noah in Genesis 9. Both of those promises stem from an acknowledgment of the human condition rather than some affirmation of humanity's potential.
In the first part of Genesis 9 God blesses Noah and his sons and entrusts them once again with the care of creation. Dominion over the earth comes with some dietary guidelines (9:4) and an affirmation of the imago dei as God invokes a prohibition against taking the life of another human being (9:6). The timeless command to "be fruitful and multiply" (9:7) then echoes in the ears of Noah and his sons as God begins to voice the words of the covenant.
The language of covenant defines this text. The breadth of God's covenant extends to creation itself (v. 10). God's promise includes that breadth of creation that had been welcomed into the safety of the ark during the time of the flood. God's specific promise entails "never again" destroying the earth nor cutting off life with such flood waters (v. 11). Given that prior acknowledgment of the reality of the human heart and the magnitude of the flood waters just experienced, God offers a sign that accompanies the spoken promise.
The sign of the rainbow set in the sky is not only a reminder of the promise to Noah, God announces that it is "a sign of the covenant between me and the earth" (v. 14). The language of the promise continually extends to all of creation. While God affirms to Noah that this rainbow in the sky shall be the sign of the covenant, the sign seems to be intended to remind God rather than humanity. Two different times God claims that the purpose of the bow in the sky is to foster the divine remembering (vv. 15, 16). The link here to the flood narrative should not be missed. For the climax of that drama occurs at the very beginning of Genesis 8 as "God remembered Noah" and all the animals that were with him on the ark (8:1).
In his commentary on Genesis, Walter Brueggemann reminds the reader that the dynamic character in this flood narrative is God. It is God who decides to "never again" destroy the earth with such natural means. It is God who remembers Noah in the midst of the flood. It is God who acknowledges the depth of evil in the human heart. And it is God who places the bow in the sky as something of a reminder to God himself. The rainbow symbolizes both the breadth of the covenant that includes creation and the length of the covenant here described as everlasting (v. 16).
Brueggemann also suggests that any connection between that evil of the human heart and divine retribution experienced in the forces of nature was forever broken (Genesis, 84.). Any destruction found within the creation itself should not be linked to the anger or the punishment of God. For God's love of creation and God's promise spoken are affirmed in the words "never again."
The grace of God is etched into the heavens with that sign of the rainbow. The gospel word here at the end of the flood narrative is to be remembered in the words "never again" and "covenant between me and the earth" and "I will remember." The dynamic character in the story may be God. The everlasting nature of the promise affirms once again what is "the breadth and the length and the height and the depth" of God's love and grace.
1 Peter 3:18-22
The epistle assignment for this First Sunday in Lent seems to be one of those "close-cut" lections that begins right in the middle of a chapter, a thought, an argument. Anytime the lectionary text begins right in the middle of what translation committees have determined is an existing paragraph, the preacher knows a little bit of work is yet to come. Here in 1 Peter, the author is addressing a church of Gentile Christians struggling to identify themselves in the midst of the pagan world and in the face of suffering and persecution. The language of salvation and Christology fill the first two chapters as the faithful are offered encouragement. Some have suggested the teaching found in the letter is part of catechetical instruction in preparation for one's baptism. Certainly by looking to the person and work of Christ, the author of 1 Peter exhorts the readers to claim their own identity as "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people" (2:9).
The text in chapter 3 comes after the soaring language of those first two chapters. Following conversation about the slave and master relationship, and that of wife and husband, the author moves into topics that are more challenging for the contemporary interpreter. But here at the end of chapter 3 the content again shifts to a discussion of suffering and persecution. Verses 8-17 reveal the author's encouragement to those who are being persecuted because of their faith. "But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed" (v. 14). "For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God's will, than to suffer for doing evil" (v. 17). Here in these few verses, the author of 1 Peter wrestles with a theology of suffering while proclaiming hope and perseverance to a church in the midst of struggle.
The prior context for this assigned section of 1 Peter 3 is that discussion of suffering. Those ever-challenging areas of slavery and marriage may overshadow one's reading by the end of the chapter. But rather than launching into a longer conversation about the church's suffering, with this lesson the author turns to the suffering of Christ. In these few verses, 1 Peter offers a theology of the atonement and an emphasis on the work of Christ revealed in his death and resurrection. At first glance the lectionary cutting of verses may seem puzzling. However, the author returns to where the epistle began. While it may seem like a sudden start for a reading at verse 18, that is where we return to the language of Christology and salvation.
The suffering of Christ is compared to the current suffering of Christians who are suffering for their righteousness. Of course, Christ suffering is beyond comparison in that it is "once for all" and that it serves to "bring you to God" (v. 18). In the face of his own bodily death, Christ was made alive in the spirit and his work continued in that proclamation to the "spirits in prison." The symbol of those who were disobedient in the time of Noah represents all who have died. Here is one of the few biblical references available to help pastors explain that phrase in the Creed, "He descended into hell." While any interpretation of this verse and the discussion of the imagery of prison and those in Noah's day is very difficult, at the very least, it would appear that the work of Christ continued even in his death. The writer moves from that discussion of his death in the flesh right through to his resurrection and ascension.
Another symbol that leaps from the page is the talk of the waters of baptism. Here in 1 Peter, baptism is not simply for the cleansing of the body. It is a sign itself that makes an appeal to God. While some may be drawn into the discussion of whether baptism is "unto salvation," the language seems to imply that baptism itself is an intercessory prayer to God. The seal of baptism is a sign of God's grace and a sign of the church's prayer invoking that grace for all who believe. Given the praise and adoration offered for the work of Christ through 1 Peter, it is appropriate that this last verse of chapter 3 end with acclamation of his heavenly lordship, for all angels, authorities, and powers are subject to him (v. 22). Creation and the cosmos itself are included the divine reign of Christ.
Mark 1:9-15
For the disciplined lectionary preacher, a stop back at Mark 1 is a bit challenging. We visited Mark 1 on the Second Sunday of Advent this year and then went back to there on the Sunday of the Baptism of Christ in January. With Mark playing such a primary role in this year's gospel selections, it should not be surprising to come back at the beginning of Lent. Maybe it's not surprising, but it's not any easier either. Back to Mark, chapter 1, back to the baptism of Jesus, back to Jesus in the wilderness, back to those first words of Jesus in Mark's Gospel, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news," back to "the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" (Mark 1:1).
Traditionally the church's celebration of Lent ties into the experience of Jesus in the wilderness being tempted by Satan as he prepares for his life's ministry. With this breakdown of verses, the gospel lesson begins not in the wilderness but at that baptism of Jesus by John as the heavens are torn apart. The cosmos itself joins the voice of God in proclaiming Jesus as the Son of God. Readers familiar with Mark will recognize this gospel writer's signature in the word "immediately." With more than just a word, Mark's brevity of description plays a role here. The experience in the wilderness falls into just two verses. What Matthew and Luke describe in 10 verses or so, Mark rushes right by. There is no dialogue with Satan, no scripture quotes from Jesus, just the temptations named, the wild beasts mentioned, and the angels sent to serve the Messiah.
The Lord's first words in Mark come after his arrival at Galilee, which marks the start of the earthly ministry. The Good News is mentioned again by Mark as he emphasizes the beginning of this gospel word. Before Jesus calls the disciples, heals the sick and casts out demons, he announces that the kingdom has come near and that the time has been fulfilled (v. 15). For Mark that fulfillment comes not necessarily in what Jesus does, but in who he is. The kingdom's inauguration comes not with a miraculous act but with a miraculous word. That word, to pick up on this gospel writer's emphasis, is a word of Good News, a gospel word. This shortest, and what many to consider to be the earliest of the Gospels, begins with Good News. The word of Good News proclaims Jesus Christ as the Son of God.
Application
Historically Lent was understood as a time of catechetical preparation prior to one's baptism at the Easter vigil on the eve of the resurrection day. That period of study certainly would include a commitment to the disciplined spiritual life, including the practices of prayer and fasting. However, that broad experience of Lent went beyond looking to the Lord's own experience in the wilderness as a prototype for the church's period of penance before Easter. Christ's encounter with Satan that included temptation and dialogue must certainly be viewed as something more than a simple comparison to the temptations and disciplines of the faithful. In fact, any such comparison between our faith practices and that of Jesus must be avoided.
Mark's Gospel lection invites a consideration of Lent that goes beyond the wilderness. For rather than pausing there for any significant development of the wilderness as symbol, Mark leaps to the proclamation of Jesus related to the reign of the kingdom of God. The preacher can take the time to reflect again on these gospel beginnings. For Mark, the Good News begins with the Lord's own announcement of that ministry that now begins. Knowing the brevity of Mark's style and work, the preacher should ponder that Mark will not come up for air in this gospel until the reader reaches the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The Good News may start now here in chapter 1, but you can't comprehend it until you reach the end and then begin again.
This year the church is invited to stand on the front steps of Lent and look toward that end (or beginning) that comes at the cross and resurrection. Rather than choosing to focus on our preparation and discipline, the church can choose an extended look at the cross and the work of Christ that draws us ever closer to that experience of salvation.
The focus, then, is not on the 40 days of preparation. It may be 40 days of reflection on those three holy days between Good Friday and Easter. With the help of the reading from 1 Peter, the preacher may choose to draw attention even this First Sunday in Lent to Christ's suffering (Friday), his proclamation to those in prison (Saturday), and his resurrection and ultimate ascension (Sunday). It may be time for the church to proclaim once again that Lent is really not about us. It is about beginning (again) of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Alternative Applications
1) The lectionary-based connection between the Genesis text and the 1 Peter text, both of which mention Noah, seems almost too simplistic. A desire for those connections is often shallow and leads to shallow sermons as well. Here on the First Sunday in Lent, however, a more meaningful connection comes not in the name of Noah but in the sacramental signs.
In many congregations, Communion will be celebrated on the First Sunday in Lent. Preachers may choose to ponder the theology in these texts of signs and things signified. When placing Communion within covenantal history, the liturgical equation of word + sign = sacrament is given its context. The text from Genesis reminds us that the sign served to remind God. In both baptism and Communion, the respective signs serve as a witness to God as well. 1 Peter describes that baptismal sign as an appeal to God. A Communion celebration is a sign that offers thanks to God as well. While avoiding any language of sacrifice, the bread broken and cup lifted can certainly serve as signs of our lives offered in praise and thanksgiving to God.
2) Mark 1:9-15. Because of the conciseness of Mark's Gospel, the three major events in the life of Jesus are reported in these six verses: his baptism, his temptations, the opening of his ministry.
Aren't there times in our spiritual lives when events move just about that fast? We barely have time to reflect on our mountaintop experiences before some nasty temptation or some call to mission comes along. The pace of life itself can be dizzying enough, but when things of eternal importance are happening just as rapidly, we can miss their significance.
This scripture provides a good opportunity to talk about the importance of a devotional life, a spiritual discipline one imposes on one's days that allows at least a few minutes daily for listening and meditation.
Methodism's founder caught fire for God in a religious experience in a building on Aldersgate Street in London. But it didn't just happen. Wesley biographer Basil Miller points out that it was Wesley's spiritual disciplines beforehand that helped to set the stage: "It was the methodical manner of dealing with his own soul, the springs of his emotions, the curbing of his passions, the exalting of God through prayer that in the end was to produce Aldersgate" (Basil Miller, John Wesley, p. 26).
First Lesson Focus
Genesis 9:8-17
We are dealing in this text with the attitude of God toward a world gone bad. We could watch the drift of the world toward that evil state all though the initial stories of Genesis, which are intended to be the stories of how all of us have walked in relation to our God. God created the world very good (Genesis 1:31), but then we read of the sin of male and female and their disruption of their joyful marital state, until finally they brought upon themselves the corruption of all of God's good gifts and the sentence of death. There followed the story of brotherly hatred for brother, in the tale of Cain and Abel, climaxed then by the notice of Lamech's hatred for all humankind, so that it is clear that the sin of human beings has spread through God's good creation and corrupted it all.
The result is that God is sorry that he has made humankind and it grieves him to his heart (Genesis 6:6). He therefore determines to destroy his creation in the time of Noah and just to start all over again. And there follows in Genesis 7-8, God's elimination of his first creation by the waters of a flood that covers everything.
To understand the seriousness of God's judgment upon his creation gone bad, we must understand the nature of the waters that cover the earth in the priestly story of the flood. We have two versions of the flood story woven together in Genesis 7 and 8, and in one of the versions, the flood is simply the result of rain falling upon the earth 40 days and 40 nights (Genesis 12). But in the other version, which comes out of priestly tradition, the waters of the flood are those of the great deep, of the great tehom that is mentioned at the beginning of Genesis (1:2)
Genesis 1 tells us that before God created the world, there was nothing but waste and void (tohu wabbohu), the void of nothingness, and characterizing that void, that waste were chaotic waters, a great deep covering the whole. Thus the great tehom stands for the chaos that was the world before God ever began his creation. It stands for the disorder, the darkness, the evil that were present before God said, "Let there be light," all symbolized in that figure of chaotic waters.
In the story of the flood, then, the priestly writers tell us that those chaotic waters, the great deep, are what God looses upon his creation (Genesis 7:11). And that is simply another way of saying that God takes back his creation. He reverses its order, its light, its goodness, and returns it to its original chaotic state before there ever was a creation. (We find the same figure in Jeremiah's fearful portrayal of the last judgment in Jeremiah 4:23-26.) God who is sorry that he has made humankind upon the earth destroys all that has caused him such grief.
If that were all there is in the story then it would be a fearful portrayal of the nature of the Creator, a picture of a God who only judges and who destroys all things because of the sin of humankind. But of course that is not all there is, is it? The great grieving heart cannot give up all that he has made in the beginning, and so in an act of pure grace, he saves Noah and his family, and representatives of all living creatures that are upon the face of the earth, protecting them in the ark from the chaos that engulfs the world. God throughout the scriptures is the Lord who wants life and not death, and so he preserves alive both man and beast from the destruction that engulfs the creation.
Indeed, at the end of the flood, when Noah and all the living things with him have gone forth from the ark, the Lord grants Noah (and therefore humankind) an even fuller life than they have had before. To be sure, humankind has not improved and will not improve. "For the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth" (8:21). Nevertheless, the Lord makes the promise that he will not again destroy every living creature, but that "while the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night shall not cease" (8:22). And so you and I and all living creatures can count on the regular rhythm of the seasons, because God faithfully keeps that word.
More than that, the Lord grants to human beings a richer diet of food. In the beginning, according to Genesis 1:29, humankind was granted only a vegetarian diet, but now, according to 9:3, human beings are also given meat to eat. One stipulation is that no meat be eaten with the blood in it, for blood is the bearer of life, and all life belongs to God. Equally, whoever kills a human being deserves the penalty of death, for all persons are made in the image of God and belong inseparably to him as his creatures. God, the Lord and Giver of life, preserves and protects the life that belongs solely to him.
In addition, to the riches of grace that God grants all human beings, he renews his special blessing whereby human beings are enabled to be fruitful and multiply. The ability to propagate is not granted automatically either to human beings or to other living creatures, but is given by the special blessing of God (cf. 1:28, 22). All forms of life come only from the working of God, who is the Lord over all life.
Finally, in our text, there follows the account of God's establishment of the Noachic covenant. With no deserving on the part of human beings, God promises Noah and his descendants -- and therefore you and me -- that he will never again let the waters of the great tehom, of the great deep, cover the earth. That is, God will never again take back his creation and return the earth to its chaotic state, to its nothingness, to its void that it was before God spoke his creating world. By the goodness of God, the creation will remain, whether we deserve its preservation or not.
That promise is made not only to human beings, but to all living creatures, and God binds himself to his creation as the one who will preserve it. Further, as the sign of his promise, God sets his rainbow in the clouds -- the sign that though storm and chaos appear imminent, they are not the harbingers of God's destruction of his creation.
It's all the story of the attitude of a gracious God toward his creation gone bad. In his grief over our sinfulness, God has the power to take back his creation and to do away with all that he has made. The story of the flood makes that very clear. But it also makes clear that despite our continuing sin, God wishes life and good for us and for all his creatures. It makes clear that the grace of God finally prevails through all of his actions, and that we can have life and have it abundantly from his hand if we trust his grace and love.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 25:1-10
In his recent study on the Psalms, (Seeing the Psalms: A Theology of Metaphor [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002]), William P. Brown asserts that while there are many metaphors used in the psalms, two overarching ones are "refuge" and "path." Both are equally important, says Brown, and both are metaphors for torah. Refuge symbolizes both the home and destiny for the righteous aspects of torah while path connotes movement and direction, the response to God's torah, the kind of conduct prescribed by the torah. Psalm 25 gives us opportunity to talk especially about that path.
The psalmist prays, "Make known to me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth ..." (vv. 4-5a). And again, "He leads the humble ... All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness ..." (vv. 9a, 10a).
The psalmist's "path" is the way of living prescribed by God. Did the first-century Christians have the psalm metaphor in mind when they called Christianity "the way"? (Acts 9:2; 18:25-26).
For sermonic treatment, consider what Psalm 25 tells us about the godly path:
* First, it is not necessarily a way that people know intuitively. Why else the petitions: "Make me know" and "teach me"? (v. 4).
* Second, it is not a route we walk alone. That's why the psalmist prayed, "Lead me" (v. 5). Note that this is "Lead me," not "Carry me." This is not a maudlin "Footprints in the Sand" story!
* Third, it is a path sinners are invited to walk (v. 8), with the understanding that walking the path leads away from sin and toward the good and upright Lord.
* Fourth, all the ways of God are characterized as steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his torah (v. 10).
