| First
Reading | Psalm | Epistle | Gospel |
| Genesis
9:8-17 |
32:1,
6 - 12 |
1
Peter 3:18-22 |
Mark
1:9-15 |
The Bible takes the material world seriously. The words of Ash Wednesday
“...Remember o mortal that you are dust and to dust you will
return” refer back to Genesis, the book of beginnings and remind
us that we, too, are creatures of the earth. We have a certain kinship
with all living things. God offers to make an agreement with humanity:
we are given the ability to exercise stewardship over the earth,
but we do so in relationship with God the creator. To be responsible
for this earth and its people is paired with being responsible and
answerable to God.
In the first lesson today, water
becomes a symbol of the connection among all living creatures
and larger humanity. Every ancient civilization had, as part of
its history, the recollection of a great, devastating flood. Water
was essential to life, but when uncontrollable and raging, water
was also the instrument of the greatest natural catastrophe that
could happen to ancient peoples. The Bible uses the universal
memory of a great flood to remind us that God’s concern for
the people of earth is not just limited to a few particular people.
The agreement that a flood will not be a sign of God wishing to
wipe out humanity, applies both to Noah and his sons. Noah’s
sons represent all the other tribes on earth. Hence, just as Noah
and his sons are related, so are all the peoples of earth related
not only to one another, but also to God. God does not leave any
people out. The sign of the rainbow is a sign everyone can see,
reaching from one end of the horizon to the other.
The accounts of Jesus’ baptism
in the waters of the Jordan River; his temptation in the desert;
his learning that John’s ministry was nearing conclusion;
and his start of preaching the Gospel and gathering disciples
are all strung together in Mark. Jesus did not start out by separating
himself from his religious tradition. Jesus’ ministry was
firmly connected to the larger message of the prophets and to
John who preached repentance of sin and reminded people of their
connectedness. John had no use for the self-righteous shield of
inherited privilege.
There is an old joke about a preacher
who delivered a very comprehensive sermon on all the dimensions
of sin. After the service a parishioner came up and said, “
Pastor, that was the best sermon on sin I ever heard. You touched
all the bases. Everything you said applies to someone here I know.”
A saga from the monks who lived
in the Egyptian desert in the fourth and fifth centuries is more
pointed. The townspeople once called for the local monk to join
them in punishing one of their neighbors. The monk arrived, carrying
on his back a large basket filled with sand, but there was a hole
in the bottom of the basket, and all the sand was pouring out.
“Father!” the townspeople exclaimed. “Look, your
basket has a hole in it and all your sand has been running out
behind you.” “Ah, yes” replied the monk. “All
my sins are leaving a trail behind me, but as I travel on, I do
not see them.” The townspeople looked at one another and
decided not to publicly humiliate their neighbor.
One of the things I learned in
seminary was to give a comprehensive definition of sin while standing
on one leg. Sin is not taking the connections with all other living
creatures on this earth seriously, it is selecting to acknowledge
some relationships and ignoring others. Sin is not making the
connection between God and ourselves.
Hence, Lent is not necessarily
a season of gloom and doom. God isn’t requiring long faces
and signs of sorrow. Lent provides the space to rediscover relationships
and repair connections, to remember the offer of a covenant of
grace God gives to all humanity, and to look behind and notice
our own trail of sand.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God. Amen
