Where the heart is
Commentary
This day has become an important one in the church year. When the Lenten season eventually became forty days long, this day emerged as the beginning of a period of repentance. Happily we have moved from that time when only certain church members were considered needful of repentance (and then temporarily excommunicated) to the recognition that as sinners one and all, we all need to be honest with God and ourselves about our failure to love the Lord our God and our neighbors as ourselves.
The lessons for the day move from a call to repentance through a definition of Christ's ambassadors to Jesus' instruction about proper ways to express piety. All the lessons, however, derive their meaning and their connection to one another on the basis of the kingdom of God promised and begun.
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
Squeezed in between Hosea and Amos, Joel would at first glance appear to belong with them in the eighth century B.C. While there is nothing at all in the superscription to locate Joel in history, as is the case with his bookends, the internal evidence suggests the prophet did his preaching sometime between 450 and 350 B.C., three to four hundred years later than the other two.
The first chapter of the Book of Joel describes a relatively recent attack by locusts that decimated the crops and led to an economic disaster. As a response to that natural disaster, the prophet calls on the people to hold a fast and come together to cry out for help to the Lord (1:14). The day of the Lord is near, he announced, and it is not a pretty picture (1:15).
The second chapter seems to threaten the people with a new disaster. The prophet calls for the trumpeters to sound the alarm in Jerusalem, because "the day of the Lord is coming, it is near," and the picture is even gloomier than before. Yet the situation is far from hopeless. The prophet reports the Lord's summons to the people that they "turn" to him "with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning" and mourn inwardly by tearing their hearts rather than outwardly by following the mourning ritual of tearing up their clothes.
There is hope in this turning (repenting) because of the nature of God -- gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in that loyalty to the covenant that has marked Yahweh's relationship with Israel from the very beginning. History has shown that the Lord can even relent of the harm that is threatened (see, for example, the negotiation of Abraham with the Lord at Genesis 18:16-33).
Again the prophet calls for the alarm to be sounded, so that all the inhabitants from the eldest to the youngest (nursing infants) gather for the fast in assembly. Even the newly married couples are called to leave their honeymoon suites, so that all the people are present. When the assembly is formed, the priests are summoned to play the role of intercessors to the Lord, pleading that the people be spared rather than be made into a one bad joke after another. The experience was well-known to the prophet Jeremiah (15:15-18; 20:7-10) and to those many other individuals who composed and used the psalms of lament (cf. Psalm 22:6-8, 14-18).
The hope of escaping such disaster lay in the nature of Yahweh to change the divine mind, to relent. Amos demonstrated that such intercession can indeed work (Amos 7:1-3), and so the priests can do such work without utter despair. There is hope that the Lord will spare the people in order to save his own reputation among the nations. Imagine the image problem if God would destroy the very people who worship him! Imagine what the nations will think of a God who brings disaster to his own covenant people, the ones to whom God swore covenant loyalty, that is, steadfast love. The argument is similar to the one used by Moses at Exodus 32:11-13, and the Lord relented then, too (v. 14).
The pericope blares out the need for repentance on the basis of knowing the Lord as one who is faithful even when the people are not. With that view of God in mind, there is always hope. And there is always the opportunity to pray with the understanding that the God who is faithful is the one who listens.
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
Our pericope comprises those verses of the epistle in which Paul defines what it means to be an "ambassador for Christ." An ambassador is one who represents a nation or its ruler to a different nation, another group of people. Can we imagine that an "ambassador for Christ" is one who represents the Reign of God to the kingdoms of the world, those who do not know him?
Before we wrestle with that question, we need to consider another title or epithet Paul loads on himself and those who have been baptized into the death of Christ: "the righteousness of God." His argument is that God made Jesus Christ, the sinless one, to become sin, so that we might become God's righteousness. In Paul's letters "the righteousness of God" is the saving deed, the sacrifice of Christ, that justifies us (see Romans 3:21-26). Christians become this "righteousness of God" by an utter contradiction: the sinless one became sin for us. The notion is repeated at Galatians 3:13-14 where the apostle, citing the law at Deuteronomy 21:23, argues that Christ became a "curse" for us so that the blessing of Christ might come upon the Gentiles. It appears that this divine contradiction is the basis for our new identity as the people of God, the basis for our becoming God's righteousness, and the model for ambassadorship.
It is essential, of course, that an ambassador know which nation or ruler he or she is representing to others, but in this case the kingdom is not a matter of location but of timing. In fact, these ambassadors ought to be the ones to answer the question raised some time ago by the rock group called Chicago: "Does anybody know what time it is? Does anybody really care?" It might be the only ones who indeed know what time it is and who care are the ambassadors of the kingdom of God and of Christ.
"At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you." The quotation derives from the preaching of Second Isaiah where it announces the time of salvation to the people of Israel who had been exiled in Babylon for some fifty years. The Lord here announces that the time of deliverance has arrived. Beyond that declaration of salvation, that prophet connected the homecoming of the Israelites to their own land with the advent of the Reign of God (see Isaiah 52:7-
10). That's what time it is! "See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation."
The kingdom the ambassadors for Christ represent is a matter of time, not of place. They do their work appropriately when they portray just as much of a contradiction as God did in the divine act of righteousness. These ambassadors are walking, talking contradictions within the kingdoms of the world. They commend themselves not through their successes and throwing their weight around but through their sufferings and their gentleness and the power of God at their disposal. They are armed for battle but with righteousness rather than airborne missiles. They are seen by the kingdoms of the world as imposters, unknown, dying, punished, sorrowful, and poor. But in this new time of contradiction they are in fact the exact opposites of all those perceptions, even using their poverty to make others rich with the gospel of Christ.
Being an ambassador for Christ, then, is knowing the contradiction that made us who we are and then living out one contradiction after another in the world to which God sends us. We are, after all, the only ones who know how to tell time.
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
In this portion of the Sermon on the Mount Jesus speaks in perfectly balanced paragraphs one example after another to illustrate the first verse, the warning against practicing "your piety" for public acclaim. The illustrations focus on the major expressions of the Jewish piety of the time: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. Jesus is not degrading these expressions of faith; he is, however, providing a negative role model against which such practices should be exercised.
The practices to which Jesus objects are those of the "hypocrites." In light of Jesus' concern, the word is perfect for the occasion. "Hypocrite" is a Greek word, taken over into English directly. In ancient Greece the word was used for an "actor" on stage. When Mr. and Mrs. Demetrius attended the theater, the usher handed them a program that listed the "hypocrites" for the evening. These were the professionals who played the role of someone other than their own identities, and -- besides their wages for the evening -- their reward was in the applause that came at the end of each scene and especially at the end of the play.
"Hypocrite" is, therefore, an apt description of those people who practice their piety through almsgiving, prayer, and fasting in such a way that they sound trumpets, stand in the synagogues and on street corners, and disfigure their faces so that they attract the attention of whatever audience is at hand and claim their reward from the onlookers' approval. "They have their reward here and now," Jesus said three times, just as he taught in the parable about Lazarus that the rich man "received your good things in your lifetime" (Luke 16:25). The reward for carrying out the same acts of piety as secretive expressions of worship of God are still to come, just as the reward to Lazarus came in the next life, the kingdom realized after the resurrection.
In the midst of these contrasts between piety for the sake of applause and piety to the glory of God, Jesus uncorks one tremendous surprise. "But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face ..." (v. 17). The surprise is that anointing the head was not part of the practice of fasting. On the contrary, it was preparation for participation in a feast. "You anoint my head with oil," the psalmist exclaimed as he described the table set before him and wineglasses so full they could barely be picked up without spilling (Psalm 23:5). Jesus chided Simon the Pharisee for failing to anoint his head prior to dinner when the woman anointed his feet (Luke 7:46). Perhaps the instruction in the Sermon on the Mount against distorting the face in agony stresses as its opposite the anticipation of the feast to come in the kingdom. When you fast, consider the banquet, and wear the expression appropriate for festivity.
The teaching against rewards for piety here and now is summed up in verses 19-21, where it is apparent that earthly treasures -- be they public recognition and affirmation or anything else -- show where our hearts are. What Jesus teaches here is precisely what he has been talking about throughout the sermon, that the coming of the kingdom in himself determines a new way of looking at life even now.
The turning to the Lord that Joel called for in light of the coming Day of the Lord is taken up by Jesus in a new way: Now that the Day has dawned and its fullness is sure of coming, those who are grasped by the word live not as the public would approve but as is fitting for the new time.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
Sometime between 500 and 350 B.C., post-exilic Israel experienced a devastating locust plague, followed by a drought. That experience is described in Joel chapter 1. And certainly the people suffered under the dreadful effects of those disasters. But the message of the prophet Joel -- prompted not by the natural disasters, but given him as a revelation from the Lord -- is that the Israelites face a still more terrible disaster if they do not repent and return to their God. "The day of the Lord is coming, it is near" (2:1).
The Day of the Lord is one of the most familiar concepts found throughout the Bible. It arose in the time of the tribal federation and of the Judges, when God fought on behalf of Israel against their enemies. Because the Lord defeated Israel's foes in those days, the idea arose that he would always be on their side, and that there would come a day -- a Day of the Lord -- when God would defeat all of Israel's enemies and she would be exalted among the nations.
Beginning with Amos in the eighth century B.C., the prophets turned that popular confidence upside down. Yes, the Day of the Lord is coming, they announced, the Day of God's final judgment, when he would defeat all of his enemies and bring in his kingdom on earth. But far from being exalted, sinful Israel too would be judged. "Woe to you who desire the Day of the Lord!" Amos proclaimed. "Why do you desire the Day of the Lord? It is darkness and not light" (Amos 5:18).
Many of the prophets who came after Amos affirmed that dreadful message, as does Joel here in 2:1-2 (cf. Zephaniah 1; Isaiah 2:6-22; Ezekiel 7; Malachi 4:5; 3:1-5). Sinful Israel is not going to get off scot-free with her sins against God, but rather will be judged like all the peoples. The darkness and gloom of the Day is near, and there is spread upon the mountains the awful judging hosts of God's armies (2:2), of God's "foe from the north," as Jeremiah calls them (Jeremiah 4-6). Chapter 3 of Joel vividly pictures the judgment taking place on the Day, and Joel 2:28-32 portrays the events that will precede it.
The thought of the last judgment on the Day of the Lord continues into the New Testament. "We shall all stand before the judgment seat of God," writes Paul (Romans 14:10), and throughout the New Testament, the Day of the Lord is consistently connected with Christ's second coming, with his final judgment of us, and with his establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth. Thus, Paul's constant prayer is that his churches will be found guiltless and blameless on the Day of the Lord and thus be able to stand and inherit eternal life in the judgment (cf. the epistle lessons for Ash Wednesday: Romans 13:11-13; 1 Corinthians 1:8; 1 Thessalonians 3:13).
Our indifferent and corrupt society does not believe that God judges anyone, of course. The little godlet that we have fashioned for ourselves in our naivete is only kind and benevolent, ready to help us out of a jam, but never accusing and judgmental, always willing to forgive, no matter what our attitude toward him. But the God of the Old and New Testaments is the Lord, and his lordship cannot be mocked. What we have sown, we shall also reap, writes Paul (Galatians 6:7), just as our Lord portrays all peoples called to account for their actions before the judgment seat of the Son of Man (Matthew 25:31-46). We, who have been made in the image of God, are responsible to him, and his question to us will be: "What is this you have done?" (Genesis 3:13). Thus, on this Ash Wednesday, in some churches our foreheads are marked with ashes from the cross of the Christ whom we have crucified, and we are told, "Remember that you are dust," (cf. Genesis 3:19), just as Paul reminds us that "the wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:21).
That is not the end of the story, however, for our lesson in Joel continues, and there is spoken into our sinful lives God's little word "yet." "Nevertheless." "But." God brings a counter message, an announcement of good news (2:12-13). "Even now," God says through his prophet, you can return to me and be forgiven. Now, on this day, in the midst of our situation, when our sins have multiplied and we have been heedless of our God. Even now, when not one of us has the goodness to stand in the judgment of our Lord, and not one of us measures up to what God intended us to be. Even now, when our weakness, our pride, our selfishness, and our terribly human mistakes have earned for us nothing but the censure of our Lord, we can nevertheless know his forgiveness and be restored to fellowship with him, to give us the certain hope of eternal life in his kingdom.
We are called to repentance on this Ash Wednesday, and that repentance involves, says our Joel text, a rending of our hearts (v. 13). For it is in our hearts that our sin lies, is it not? In our inner beings, where we nurse our grudges and hatreds, where our desires and lusts lie, where we fashion our self-will, heedless of the will of God. What comes out of a person, Jesus teaches, is what defiles him or her -- "evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness" -- thus does our Lord catalogue our sins (Mark 7:20-23). And so it is in our hearts that we need to repent of our waywardness and to direct our lives toward our God. Outward show of fasting in Lent, evident acts of piety are not enough. God wants our inner turning with all our heart.
We should not be misled, however. It is not because we clean up our lives that God forgives us. Rather, our text says that it is because the Lord "is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (2:13). We can never coerce God's love for us by something we do. But in contrast to our hearts, God's is a heart of pure love, finally revealed to us in the cross of Jesus Christ. There on Golgotha, he pours out his forgiveness, even while we are still sinners, and so the mark of ashes on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday becomes not the mark of death, but of life and love to all eternity. Yes, apart from that sacrifice of Christ on the cross, you and I will die. But Jesus Christ also rose from the dead and now lives and loves us. And his goodness is sufficient to forgive us in the eyes of our God and to give us his eternal life. Indeed, his Spirit living in us is able to make us new persons in God's sight.
So it all comes down to trusting God's love in our Lord Jesus Christ, you see, repenting of our sin in the depths of our hearts, and giving them fully to our Lord, that he may remake us into the persons that he wants us to be and that we may inherit eternal life in his good kingdom that is coming. Surely, the love of Christ now demands from us our love, our life, our all.
The lessons for the day move from a call to repentance through a definition of Christ's ambassadors to Jesus' instruction about proper ways to express piety. All the lessons, however, derive their meaning and their connection to one another on the basis of the kingdom of God promised and begun.
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
Squeezed in between Hosea and Amos, Joel would at first glance appear to belong with them in the eighth century B.C. While there is nothing at all in the superscription to locate Joel in history, as is the case with his bookends, the internal evidence suggests the prophet did his preaching sometime between 450 and 350 B.C., three to four hundred years later than the other two.
The first chapter of the Book of Joel describes a relatively recent attack by locusts that decimated the crops and led to an economic disaster. As a response to that natural disaster, the prophet calls on the people to hold a fast and come together to cry out for help to the Lord (1:14). The day of the Lord is near, he announced, and it is not a pretty picture (1:15).
The second chapter seems to threaten the people with a new disaster. The prophet calls for the trumpeters to sound the alarm in Jerusalem, because "the day of the Lord is coming, it is near," and the picture is even gloomier than before. Yet the situation is far from hopeless. The prophet reports the Lord's summons to the people that they "turn" to him "with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning" and mourn inwardly by tearing their hearts rather than outwardly by following the mourning ritual of tearing up their clothes.
There is hope in this turning (repenting) because of the nature of God -- gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in that loyalty to the covenant that has marked Yahweh's relationship with Israel from the very beginning. History has shown that the Lord can even relent of the harm that is threatened (see, for example, the negotiation of Abraham with the Lord at Genesis 18:16-33).
Again the prophet calls for the alarm to be sounded, so that all the inhabitants from the eldest to the youngest (nursing infants) gather for the fast in assembly. Even the newly married couples are called to leave their honeymoon suites, so that all the people are present. When the assembly is formed, the priests are summoned to play the role of intercessors to the Lord, pleading that the people be spared rather than be made into a one bad joke after another. The experience was well-known to the prophet Jeremiah (15:15-18; 20:7-10) and to those many other individuals who composed and used the psalms of lament (cf. Psalm 22:6-8, 14-18).
The hope of escaping such disaster lay in the nature of Yahweh to change the divine mind, to relent. Amos demonstrated that such intercession can indeed work (Amos 7:1-3), and so the priests can do such work without utter despair. There is hope that the Lord will spare the people in order to save his own reputation among the nations. Imagine the image problem if God would destroy the very people who worship him! Imagine what the nations will think of a God who brings disaster to his own covenant people, the ones to whom God swore covenant loyalty, that is, steadfast love. The argument is similar to the one used by Moses at Exodus 32:11-13, and the Lord relented then, too (v. 14).
The pericope blares out the need for repentance on the basis of knowing the Lord as one who is faithful even when the people are not. With that view of God in mind, there is always hope. And there is always the opportunity to pray with the understanding that the God who is faithful is the one who listens.
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
Our pericope comprises those verses of the epistle in which Paul defines what it means to be an "ambassador for Christ." An ambassador is one who represents a nation or its ruler to a different nation, another group of people. Can we imagine that an "ambassador for Christ" is one who represents the Reign of God to the kingdoms of the world, those who do not know him?
Before we wrestle with that question, we need to consider another title or epithet Paul loads on himself and those who have been baptized into the death of Christ: "the righteousness of God." His argument is that God made Jesus Christ, the sinless one, to become sin, so that we might become God's righteousness. In Paul's letters "the righteousness of God" is the saving deed, the sacrifice of Christ, that justifies us (see Romans 3:21-26). Christians become this "righteousness of God" by an utter contradiction: the sinless one became sin for us. The notion is repeated at Galatians 3:13-14 where the apostle, citing the law at Deuteronomy 21:23, argues that Christ became a "curse" for us so that the blessing of Christ might come upon the Gentiles. It appears that this divine contradiction is the basis for our new identity as the people of God, the basis for our becoming God's righteousness, and the model for ambassadorship.
It is essential, of course, that an ambassador know which nation or ruler he or she is representing to others, but in this case the kingdom is not a matter of location but of timing. In fact, these ambassadors ought to be the ones to answer the question raised some time ago by the rock group called Chicago: "Does anybody know what time it is? Does anybody really care?" It might be the only ones who indeed know what time it is and who care are the ambassadors of the kingdom of God and of Christ.
"At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you." The quotation derives from the preaching of Second Isaiah where it announces the time of salvation to the people of Israel who had been exiled in Babylon for some fifty years. The Lord here announces that the time of deliverance has arrived. Beyond that declaration of salvation, that prophet connected the homecoming of the Israelites to their own land with the advent of the Reign of God (see Isaiah 52:7-
10). That's what time it is! "See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation."
The kingdom the ambassadors for Christ represent is a matter of time, not of place. They do their work appropriately when they portray just as much of a contradiction as God did in the divine act of righteousness. These ambassadors are walking, talking contradictions within the kingdoms of the world. They commend themselves not through their successes and throwing their weight around but through their sufferings and their gentleness and the power of God at their disposal. They are armed for battle but with righteousness rather than airborne missiles. They are seen by the kingdoms of the world as imposters, unknown, dying, punished, sorrowful, and poor. But in this new time of contradiction they are in fact the exact opposites of all those perceptions, even using their poverty to make others rich with the gospel of Christ.
Being an ambassador for Christ, then, is knowing the contradiction that made us who we are and then living out one contradiction after another in the world to which God sends us. We are, after all, the only ones who know how to tell time.
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
In this portion of the Sermon on the Mount Jesus speaks in perfectly balanced paragraphs one example after another to illustrate the first verse, the warning against practicing "your piety" for public acclaim. The illustrations focus on the major expressions of the Jewish piety of the time: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. Jesus is not degrading these expressions of faith; he is, however, providing a negative role model against which such practices should be exercised.
The practices to which Jesus objects are those of the "hypocrites." In light of Jesus' concern, the word is perfect for the occasion. "Hypocrite" is a Greek word, taken over into English directly. In ancient Greece the word was used for an "actor" on stage. When Mr. and Mrs. Demetrius attended the theater, the usher handed them a program that listed the "hypocrites" for the evening. These were the professionals who played the role of someone other than their own identities, and -- besides their wages for the evening -- their reward was in the applause that came at the end of each scene and especially at the end of the play.
"Hypocrite" is, therefore, an apt description of those people who practice their piety through almsgiving, prayer, and fasting in such a way that they sound trumpets, stand in the synagogues and on street corners, and disfigure their faces so that they attract the attention of whatever audience is at hand and claim their reward from the onlookers' approval. "They have their reward here and now," Jesus said three times, just as he taught in the parable about Lazarus that the rich man "received your good things in your lifetime" (Luke 16:25). The reward for carrying out the same acts of piety as secretive expressions of worship of God are still to come, just as the reward to Lazarus came in the next life, the kingdom realized after the resurrection.
In the midst of these contrasts between piety for the sake of applause and piety to the glory of God, Jesus uncorks one tremendous surprise. "But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face ..." (v. 17). The surprise is that anointing the head was not part of the practice of fasting. On the contrary, it was preparation for participation in a feast. "You anoint my head with oil," the psalmist exclaimed as he described the table set before him and wineglasses so full they could barely be picked up without spilling (Psalm 23:5). Jesus chided Simon the Pharisee for failing to anoint his head prior to dinner when the woman anointed his feet (Luke 7:46). Perhaps the instruction in the Sermon on the Mount against distorting the face in agony stresses as its opposite the anticipation of the feast to come in the kingdom. When you fast, consider the banquet, and wear the expression appropriate for festivity.
The teaching against rewards for piety here and now is summed up in verses 19-21, where it is apparent that earthly treasures -- be they public recognition and affirmation or anything else -- show where our hearts are. What Jesus teaches here is precisely what he has been talking about throughout the sermon, that the coming of the kingdom in himself determines a new way of looking at life even now.
The turning to the Lord that Joel called for in light of the coming Day of the Lord is taken up by Jesus in a new way: Now that the Day has dawned and its fullness is sure of coming, those who are grasped by the word live not as the public would approve but as is fitting for the new time.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
Sometime between 500 and 350 B.C., post-exilic Israel experienced a devastating locust plague, followed by a drought. That experience is described in Joel chapter 1. And certainly the people suffered under the dreadful effects of those disasters. But the message of the prophet Joel -- prompted not by the natural disasters, but given him as a revelation from the Lord -- is that the Israelites face a still more terrible disaster if they do not repent and return to their God. "The day of the Lord is coming, it is near" (2:1).
The Day of the Lord is one of the most familiar concepts found throughout the Bible. It arose in the time of the tribal federation and of the Judges, when God fought on behalf of Israel against their enemies. Because the Lord defeated Israel's foes in those days, the idea arose that he would always be on their side, and that there would come a day -- a Day of the Lord -- when God would defeat all of Israel's enemies and she would be exalted among the nations.
Beginning with Amos in the eighth century B.C., the prophets turned that popular confidence upside down. Yes, the Day of the Lord is coming, they announced, the Day of God's final judgment, when he would defeat all of his enemies and bring in his kingdom on earth. But far from being exalted, sinful Israel too would be judged. "Woe to you who desire the Day of the Lord!" Amos proclaimed. "Why do you desire the Day of the Lord? It is darkness and not light" (Amos 5:18).
Many of the prophets who came after Amos affirmed that dreadful message, as does Joel here in 2:1-2 (cf. Zephaniah 1; Isaiah 2:6-22; Ezekiel 7; Malachi 4:5; 3:1-5). Sinful Israel is not going to get off scot-free with her sins against God, but rather will be judged like all the peoples. The darkness and gloom of the Day is near, and there is spread upon the mountains the awful judging hosts of God's armies (2:2), of God's "foe from the north," as Jeremiah calls them (Jeremiah 4-6). Chapter 3 of Joel vividly pictures the judgment taking place on the Day, and Joel 2:28-32 portrays the events that will precede it.
The thought of the last judgment on the Day of the Lord continues into the New Testament. "We shall all stand before the judgment seat of God," writes Paul (Romans 14:10), and throughout the New Testament, the Day of the Lord is consistently connected with Christ's second coming, with his final judgment of us, and with his establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth. Thus, Paul's constant prayer is that his churches will be found guiltless and blameless on the Day of the Lord and thus be able to stand and inherit eternal life in the judgment (cf. the epistle lessons for Ash Wednesday: Romans 13:11-13; 1 Corinthians 1:8; 1 Thessalonians 3:13).
Our indifferent and corrupt society does not believe that God judges anyone, of course. The little godlet that we have fashioned for ourselves in our naivete is only kind and benevolent, ready to help us out of a jam, but never accusing and judgmental, always willing to forgive, no matter what our attitude toward him. But the God of the Old and New Testaments is the Lord, and his lordship cannot be mocked. What we have sown, we shall also reap, writes Paul (Galatians 6:7), just as our Lord portrays all peoples called to account for their actions before the judgment seat of the Son of Man (Matthew 25:31-46). We, who have been made in the image of God, are responsible to him, and his question to us will be: "What is this you have done?" (Genesis 3:13). Thus, on this Ash Wednesday, in some churches our foreheads are marked with ashes from the cross of the Christ whom we have crucified, and we are told, "Remember that you are dust," (cf. Genesis 3:19), just as Paul reminds us that "the wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:21).
That is not the end of the story, however, for our lesson in Joel continues, and there is spoken into our sinful lives God's little word "yet." "Nevertheless." "But." God brings a counter message, an announcement of good news (2:12-13). "Even now," God says through his prophet, you can return to me and be forgiven. Now, on this day, in the midst of our situation, when our sins have multiplied and we have been heedless of our God. Even now, when not one of us has the goodness to stand in the judgment of our Lord, and not one of us measures up to what God intended us to be. Even now, when our weakness, our pride, our selfishness, and our terribly human mistakes have earned for us nothing but the censure of our Lord, we can nevertheless know his forgiveness and be restored to fellowship with him, to give us the certain hope of eternal life in his kingdom.
We are called to repentance on this Ash Wednesday, and that repentance involves, says our Joel text, a rending of our hearts (v. 13). For it is in our hearts that our sin lies, is it not? In our inner beings, where we nurse our grudges and hatreds, where our desires and lusts lie, where we fashion our self-will, heedless of the will of God. What comes out of a person, Jesus teaches, is what defiles him or her -- "evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness" -- thus does our Lord catalogue our sins (Mark 7:20-23). And so it is in our hearts that we need to repent of our waywardness and to direct our lives toward our God. Outward show of fasting in Lent, evident acts of piety are not enough. God wants our inner turning with all our heart.
We should not be misled, however. It is not because we clean up our lives that God forgives us. Rather, our text says that it is because the Lord "is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (2:13). We can never coerce God's love for us by something we do. But in contrast to our hearts, God's is a heart of pure love, finally revealed to us in the cross of Jesus Christ. There on Golgotha, he pours out his forgiveness, even while we are still sinners, and so the mark of ashes on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday becomes not the mark of death, but of life and love to all eternity. Yes, apart from that sacrifice of Christ on the cross, you and I will die. But Jesus Christ also rose from the dead and now lives and loves us. And his goodness is sufficient to forgive us in the eyes of our God and to give us his eternal life. Indeed, his Spirit living in us is able to make us new persons in God's sight.
So it all comes down to trusting God's love in our Lord Jesus Christ, you see, repenting of our sin in the depths of our hearts, and giving them fully to our Lord, that he may remake us into the persons that he wants us to be and that we may inherit eternal life in his good kingdom that is coming. Surely, the love of Christ now demands from us our love, our life, our all.
