March 4, 2007
The Second Sunday in Lent (Year C)
Genesis 15:1-12,17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17--4:1; Luke 13:31-35
"I long to gather you up as a mother hen gathers her chicks." We hear this metaphor in some of the new liturgies that try to use inclusive language for God. I admit I like it, not only because it is gives a feminine image of God that I can relate to, but because it gives me an image of God that is one of the most powerful for me when I pray for people in times of trouble – indeed, even when I pray for myself when I am in trouble.
Asking God to gather the broken or fearful under the shadow of God's wing, resting as though on a feather bed, in complete safety and comfort, is an image I find incredibly hopeful. And that it comes from Jesus in the gospel at the point in his life when Jesus is facing certain death, makes it even more valuable to me as an image of how much God loves us.
Jesus was certainly focused when we see him in the gospel this morning, focused on doing the work God had given him to do. Last week we heard how Satan tempted Jesus with the easy way out. This week Jesus is tempted by those who love him, once again proving that evil comes in many guises and is often mixed up inextricably with human beings.
The Pharisees, of all people, warned Jesus that Herod was out to get him, and he needed to slip away. His answer to them was cryptic, meant, of course, for those of us who know the story, "I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and the next and then on the third day I finish my work." – an excellent foreshadowing of the resurrection.
But behind the wall of stylistic literary technique is a picture of Jesus that we don't often see. He is focused, almost to the point of being stern. He is heading for
I have been with people as they make their way through a disease, even at the point when they come to the realization that this is the disease that is going to end their mortal life, that their days are now limited. At that time their focus on the very important things usually becomes sharper and determined, much like that of Jesus in the gospel this morning.
It is as such times that people are willing to talk about death. They are more than willing to make amends or finish one last project. There is also often great relief in letting go of those things which will not get done. It is an acknowledgment of what is really important and what is not.
Jesus knew that casting out demons and curing the sick was the work he was to do – for those 3 days; and then he could get on with the next part of his journey, preparing to witness to God's unbounded love by dying. He no doubt knew he would converse with and instruct his followers, that he would crave time with those he loved, the men and women who were in his entourage; but for this moment, this still far out moment in the countryside of
Jesus was in every way human as we are, and giving up his life was not easier for him than for us. He still would die – I am not convinced he knew that he would be bodily resurrected in witness to us – he only knew he was going to return to the Holy One who had sent him. Jesus was fully human. He was, as we spoke of at Connect? * last Thursday evening, a party animal; he loved eating and drinking with his friends. He loved all sorts and conditions of people, and he especially loved those whom the establishment, the religious or political or cultural establishment, saw as lesser or untouchable or unredeemable.
So his final days were spent caring for those he loved the most as he always had, but probably with more fervor. And then defying the warnings of those who loved him and those Pharisees who were intrigued by his message and his medium, he went on to
In today's world such clear and decisive vision is rare, especially when it is being pulled at from all sides by evil. Too often the distractions win us over. We do not see clearly without the benefit of hindsight. To have such positive vision and to stick so determinedly to where God calls, even at the risk of offending our friends, is an example of being human that we Christians need to take seriously.
The amazing thing is that not only did Jesus focus on Jerusalem and the certain death that awaited him there, but that he, all the while, thought not of himself, but of those he was called to serve, from those whom he cured and rid of demons to the many, many others he longed to gather under the shadow of his wing. His stern, clear, forward focus didn't change his heart for the beloved people entrusted to his human care.
I find this image of Jesus as focused pastor, minister, healer, comforter, friend, balanced by a clear sense of calling, to be a very compelling one.
This Lenten season we will see many images of Jesus, in our gospel stories, in our worship, and when, as a community, we gather on Thursday evenings for Connect?. But this week, at least until Thursday when we will have new ideas added to our seasonal contemplation, I invite you to think about what it would take to narrow your focus as clearly as Jesus' in this gospel to doing the work God has given you to do.
Do you know what God requires of you? Do you know who is trying to protect you from evil? Can you turn your head toward your own
If we all had such vision, then perhaps we humans could learn to always look forward and not backward. If we had such vision, then perhaps we humans could do more of the work together that God has given us to do.
May our focus be toward
Amen.
The Rev. Dr. Gale Davis Morris
Church of the Good Shepherd
*Lenten Study: Connect? is a six week exploration of what it can mean to connect to a Eucharistic community.