March 16, 2003

Second Sunday of Lent

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16; Romans 4:13-25; Mark 8:31-38

For more than 25 years now I have been called to the ministry. That means over 25 years of sermons. Over 25 years of Sunday worship without missing a Sunday from illness or any other reason than being gone on vacation or retreats. Over 25 years of teaching Bible studies, adult forums and over 25 years of teaching confirmation classes. It is hard for me to believe, but some of the young people I confirmed my first year of ministry have now reached midlife. I still hear from or about some of them even though I am long gone from their home churches which they also have left and moved on from years ago. Some of them have done quite well for themselves a few died too young and some have suffered reversals in life to their health, their careers or their families. Many have been called to do things they had never conceived of doing when they were in my confirmation classes. (I know at least one works at our national church office.s I’m not sure whether to count that a success story or not.) I cannot remember them all by name any more but I do remember that every once in a while there would be a confirmand who struck me as different “This one is special” I would think. Gifted by God in some way that even they did not understand.

Gifted that actually means called by God to a special moment. There are such moments in all our lives moments that are a gift from God. A moment when everything seems to fit together That feeling of wholeness like the whole universe seems to be smiling down on you. As the years pass we often forget such times overshadowed by the trials and tragedies of life but we all have such moments. Sometimes they are ridiculously common in the retelling but filled with such joy. A moment like eating a chocolate chip cookie fresh baked from the oven. Enjoyed as a child that for a moment defined culinary excellence in terms of a feeling and joy that may have never been equaled since. Or the exhilaration of succeeding at some task that you had always thought beyond reach, whether it was learning to ride a bike or perform a certain gymnastic move or catching the ball that needed so desperately to be caught to win the game.

Psychologists and historians often search for such moments in the lives of great people to explain a certain ability to lead or to interpret acts that might have gone unnoticed except for the genius or importance of the deed. As the years pass many such moments are lost to memory and time. Only the truly exceptional events are remembered by history not so much for what they meant in the moment but for what that moment does to provide meaning for all that follows. The interpreters of history and great lives often seize on certain moments as pivotal and defining in explaining the successes or failures that are to follow. Our lessons for today capture just such moments in the history of faith. Our first lesson continues the theme of covenant and promise begun last week in the story of Noah and the flood when Noah’s encounter with God leads ultimately to God promising never to again bring such destruction upon the world.

Today’s lesson turns us to the future. A promise. Acovenant delivered to Abram that becomes the foundation for understanding most every event in the Bible from that time forward, though in the moment Abram certainly had no idea how far reaching the meaning of this promise would be. Here in Genesis 17 is the promise that Abraham’s descendants will be many with a land of their own. A name that is great and they will be a blessing to the nations of the world. The rest of the book of Genesis and actually all of the rest of the Old Testament traces the development and movement toward fulfillment of this covenant. Abraham’s two sons Isaac and Ishmael each become the fathers not only of people who become nations but they produce the foundation for the two great faith traditions of the world. Isaac is claimed as father of the blessings of the Judeo-Christian faith communities while Ishmael is identified as ancestral father of the Islamic faith.

To both of these faith communities it begins with God Almighty, in Hebrew El Shaddai, calling upon Abraham to walk before him into the promise of the covenant calling he is offering. From our vantage point in history we know how faithful God will prove to this promise and covenant even when Abraham’s descendents have forgotten and wandered. Abraham was special. Special not because of what he had done up to that time but because of what God was about to do through him. This moment in history hinges not on what Abraham chooses to do but rather on what he is willing to believe on how much he is willing to step aside from his plans and expectations and just trust in God. We Lutherans like this moment because it hinges ultimately on faith alone. That’s what Paul identifies in his letter to the Romans in our second lesson for today when he writes, "The promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendents through the law but through the righteousness of faith." Faith to believe hoping against hope to accept a life defining calling from God.

As we approach our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus is riding a wave of great popularity. We are exactly half way through the Gospel of Mark. The crowds have begun to grow thanks to the miracles and wonders performed. The disciples have been able to make a major declaration of faith that Jesus is the Christ—the promised messiah. Things are looking really promising when Jesus begins to teach that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes and be killed and after three days rise again. This is not the kind of message that builds confidence or inspire.s People don’t like to hear bad news even if it is true, and we especially don’t like to hear it if it is bad news that involves us. Yet three times in Mark’s gospel, Jesus predicts his own suffering and death and every time the disciples make it clear that either they don’t understand or perhaps they understand too well and don’t like what Jesus is saying.

Mark is the shortest of the gospels, so if Mark repeats something three times it must be something not only of great importance but something that demands repetition so we don’t miss it. The problem with this lesson is that it is not just describing what will happen to Jesus but is applied to everyone one who would follow Jesus. I still remember one of my seminary professors, Dr. Harrisville, lecturing on the portion of the Gospel of Mark in today’s Gospel. One of my best friends in seminary was named Greg. Now Greg will readily admit to this day that he was not one of the best Greek students. In fact he retook his Greek classes a number of times and proved to be quite a challenge to his professors. He also enjoyed sleeping in until the very last minute before class started in the morning. So it was that this particular morning Dr. Harrisville began his lecture by reading the words of Jesus—“If any wants to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” And as he concluded his reading he turned to the classroom door and announcing, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like you to meet a piece of my cross” at which point Greg entered the room running late as usual.

I remember thinking that I hoped the worse cross I would face in life would be no more trying than a late student entering a classroom. I really don’t think that Jesus intends for my life to be any more difficult than it already is. When Jesus calls us to follow him it is not intended as some type of punishment. The real issue here is the question of self denial. To deny ourselves and take up our cross. Self denial. This is not a concept that is familiar to the world any more. Pastor Brett Younger notes that,“We live in a selfish world that encourages self-absorption, self-actualization, self-advancement, self-assurance, self-improvement, self-interest, self-realization, self-respect, self-righteousness, and self-fulfillment. Is it any wonder that we set our sights on being healthy, wealthy and wise?” One would think that being Christian should have some impact on the world around us, yet the journalist Anthony Thomas recently made this observation about faith and the world. “Dallas is called the buckle on the Bible belt. It has the largest number of millionaires, and one of the worst crime rates and some of the severest poverty rates of any American city. Yet Dallas could also be described as the most Christian place on the earth. It has the highest proportion of paid-up church members of any city anywhere.”

Self denial is not an easy concept to embrace, especially for those of us who live the good life of the American suburbs. We have grown cautious about the idealized vision of self denial. We know our history and have watched the changing values of cultures. The medieval church called upon true believers to sacrifice their sexual identity in celibate lives as monks and nuns which increasingly appears to have some serious psychological and physical health risks. The 19th century missionary zeal spread the gospel through the self-sacrificing of many who left their safe civilized western homes to journey to far off lands and foreign cultures but carried with them not only the good news of Jesus Christ but also colonialist exploitation and abuses that have created many of the conflicts in Africa and the Middle East today. There was a short burst of idealism in the 60’s when people risked themselves for racial and social issues in a turbulent world, but that zeal was extinguished for many by assassins’ bullets although many women were finally set free from an oppressive female denial philosophy that had no counterpart, balance or partnership in a patriarchal dominated society.

History tells us to be careful of the calls for self-denial, yet it is also true that the only self worth denying or sacrificing is a strong self, a self that knows its calling from God and does not simply follow the most popular ideal of the day. That is why Jesus calls those who follow him first to be his disciples to view him as Rabbi teacher. They were first to learn from him. He taught his disciples. He revealed to them the miracles of grace and the power of God’s love. Jesus opened to them the words of the prophets and scripture and only then did he call upon them to deny their old selves and turn in new directions as messengers of the Way. Notice he does not tell them to take up HIS cross but THEIR cross. That part of the world that is hardest for them to carry, that part of the world to which they must die if they are going to truly discover the new life, the resurrected life Christ promised.

There is a temptation each time we hear this text to engage in an intellectual game of naming our cross or crosses. To look around and begin defining our path to God by identifying the greatest threats we can identify to our faith. Likewise there is a risk of taking a fatalistic view that says that whatever pain or suffering happens to me must be endured because it is from God. The cross was not of Christ’s choosing. He would have preferred, he clearly prayed for another way. So we do not choose our crosses, they are discovered from the midst of our daily lives as those moments, people or things that could separate us from God were it not that God is calling us to pass through this cross to something more. And so we should also know that our crosses are not some kind of punishment. Jesus was not being punished. Just as Abraham gave himself over to the promise of God’s word, so Jesus was giving himself over to God’s power to bring life even from death.

We journey through our cross moments to discover God’s power to resurrect, to make new and give life to that which we thought was dead. This is a gift that is needed again and again in our lives. It is proof that we are called to be something special even if we do not always understand it. My friend Greg finally made it through seminary a few years after me. His first call was to California where he had grown up. He was in an aging congregation in LA. It was very intense. One day I learned that Greg had had a heart attack. He was told he would recover but he would need to make some life style changes. The doctors recommended reducing his stress, so Greg took a call back to the Midwest. He arrived as a new pastor in Oklahoma City three weeks before the Federal Building bombing. Greg spent three solid days 24 hours a day counseling with grieving families. I always thought there was something special about him. I think Dr. Harrisville would be happy to know what became of a piece of his cross. I continue to be amazed at how crosses have a way of becoming pathways to God’s glory not of our choosing but by God’s calling.

We are here today because we have been called by God to follow. That is a part of our Lenten journey. We are called. Called to grow as disciples of the faith, learning from the Word, called to deny our selves and take up our crosse.s This is something special.

Amen.