Return To Me (Ash Wednesday)

 Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

March 6, 2019

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. Life is hard – we are constantly bombarded by the challenges of this world. Every day we are being asked to make decisions that can leave us feeling really good or totally inadequate. And then the unpredictable happens – we get sick, or someone we love dies, or we end up in an accident – and we feel fragile and small, and so human. And when we are able to look beyond our own lives, we see systemic injustice – and we are overwhelmed. How do we live faithfully in this world?

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. We hide parts of ourselves, we guard our hearts, we pretend to be able to function normally so that we can get through the day. And many of us get so good at this that at times we can’t even tell the difference between our true selves and the person the world sees. But when we stop to think about it we know. Deep down we know when we are being our authentic selves and when we are acting. And when we are honest with ourselves, we long to be our authentic selves – the way God sees us. But being fully human really is unspeakably difficult.

The thing is, being our authentic selves often leaves us feeling so very vulnerable. I’d much rather hide the hurt and act like everything is okay – like I can handle it. I prefer to plaster a smile on my face and pretend I’ve got it all under control, rather than face up to just how inadequate I feel. But every time we deny our authentic selves we also denying Jesus Christ. Every time we act like we’ve got it all together, we are saying that we do not need God. And the truth is that we need God each and every hour of each and every day.

For example: We are going along like we’ve got everything under control and then something happens and our worlds are turned upside down. And so often our response is to do our best to pretend that everything is okay. Our culture teaches us to do this. You can do it. Be strong! You’ve got what it takes.

But sometimes we simply can’t – the devastation is more than we can bear. For the prophet Joel is was a plague of locusts that literally destroyed everything, leaving God’s people utterly destitute. Even the animals were starving. It really must have felt like the end of the world. Our “crisis moment” may not be as dire, but it is still very real. Often we are left wondering which way to turn.  If we are honest with ourselves we are scared. And God speaks into our terror: “Return to me with all your heart.”

I have read this passage hundreds of times and every time I’ve read it I have heard it as a call to repentance. Do the right thing. Turn away from your sin and turn to God. Confess your wrongdoings so that you can follow the right path. And this is a fitting theme as we start Lent. God calls us to give up bad habits and take on good ones. We hear Joel’s words – return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning – and I think of the word contrition. Regret and sorrow for past wrongdoings. But the locust infestation was not the result of sin. It was a natural disaster, like an earthquake or a hurricane.

This made me wonder if maybe I had been reading this wrong. And it turns out that the Hebrew word used here isn’t “repent.” It really is return – come back. And when we hear it this way we hear a completely different message. It is more like God is saying, I’m still here. I’m still waiting. I still love you. And I want you to come back to me – I want you to come home. Think of the Father waiting for the Prodigal Son to return home. We are hearing the deepest yearnings of God’s heart. “Return to me!” Come and open up your hearts to me. Rend your hearts and not your clothing – quit acting. Quit hiding yourself from me. Tear open your heart and trust me. Give me your authentic self with all your imperfections and I will enrich your life in ways you cannot possibly imagine. You can trust me. I will love you no matter what. I promise.

God loves you. God calls you. God longs for you – for the authentic you in all its brokenness. “Return to me with all your heart.” Hear what Joel says: “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.”

For me, recognizing that God isn’t pointing to my sin, but rather to the fact that life happens and we get lost, changes everything. As we start our 40 day journey to the cross we are simply acknowledging that being fully human is unspeakably difficult. And it is difficult both because we have made mistakes and because life gets in the way. The market crashes. Our expenses exceed our income. The dog gets sick. Your pastor gets vertigo. And we get lost.

And yet, here we are. Yet. What a funny word. Paul uses it repeatedly in the letter to the church in Corinth: “We are treated as imposters, yet we are true; as unknown, yet we are well known; as dying, yet we are alive; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, on this day we are reminded that God is in the grace business. Right when we feel the most inadequate, the most overwhelmed, God loves us unconditionally. Right when we think we have absolutely nothing to give, God affirms that we have everything we need. Right when we think the world is going to end, God’s abundant grace renews us and brings us joy. Right when we think we are utterly alone, God welcomes us home.

And as ashes are put on our foreheads, reminding us that we are dust, God is leading us to that day when the tomb will be empty and death will no longer have dominion over us. So today we are in death, yet we are promised life!

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. But with God all things are possible. With God all things are possible.

Here we are, at the beginning of our journey to the cross. Another Lent begins. And God is inviting us, “Return to me with all your heart.” God calls us. God yearns for us. And returning to God becomes both urgent and necessary.

More than that, hearing and responding to that call takes all of us. We cannot do this alone. We cannot find our authentic selves without the help of others.  We need each other. We need good Christian friends on this journey to give us the courage to be fully human. We need examples, so that we know we are not alone. We need the gift of community as we seek to be our most authentic self, true to God and to one another.

But this doesn’t happen over night. That is why God has given us forty days. As we embark on this Lenten journey, each Sunday will have blessings that God has left us, like a trail of breadcrumbs, that lead us into wholehearted, resurrected lives. Fed and nourished in this way, we can endure any calamity, and yet we anticipate new life. The Heart of all hearts will not leave us in a land that has been made desolate by locusts. Each Sunday there will be a signpost that marks another step toward home, toward Life, toward the rising that takes place once we are brave enough to rend our hearts, tearing them open and giving them fully to God. 

Who Baptized Jesus?

Read Luke 3:15-22 for context.

 

The baptism of Jesus is one of the few stories recorded in all four gospels. In all four gospels it marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee. In Mark’s gospel, we see Jesus for the first time at his baptism, just 9 verses into the book. Matthew and Luke have extensive birth narratives, and Luke tells one story of Jesus as a 12 year old; still, we meet the adult Jesus for the first time at his baptism.  Even in John’s gospel, where it is clear that the Word was with God in the beginning, we see the incarnate Word, Jesus, for the first time at his baptism.

There is no question that this is significant. Baptism marks a beginning in all four gospels. And in all four gospels the Spirit descends in bodily form, like a dove, making it abundantly clear that God is physically present and evident for all to see. And then a voice from heaven speaks. Everyone recognizes that this is the voice of God the Father pouring out blessings upon blessings upon his beloved Son.

When a story shows up in more than one gospel it is always a good idea to compare the various versions, looking for similarities and differences. Much like listening to several different witnesses in a court of law, the testimonies point to the commonalities and they also inevitably tell us something about the witness. The fact that I might notice a detail that you miss, or that you might highlight an aspect that seems unimportant to me speaks more about us, as the witnesses, than it does about the event we witnessed.

There is no doubt that the four stories of Jesus’ baptism tell us a lot about the gospel writers. Mark is simply proclaiming the good news: Jesus was baptized by John at the Jordan. In Matthew, there is some question as to whether John is worthy to baptize Jesus. Jesus explains that this is how it is supposed to be and John consents. In Luke, we do not know who baptized Jesus, because John has just been locked up in prison. None-the-less, Jesus is baptized. John’s gospel infers baptism, but we are left wondering whether Jesus was baptized or not. Still, in all four gospels the Spirit descended in bodily form, like a dove and rested on Jesus.

I think these differences tell us more about our gospel writers than they do about Jesus. Clearly they questioned the purpose of baptism – well, except for Mark. Mark’s gospel is the earliest gospel, and clearly Mark saw the baptism of Jesus as his initiation into ministry. On the other hand, the author of John’s gospel wonders why anyone would baptize the Lamb of God who is without sin – the one who has come to take away the sin of the world. And Matthew wrestles with whether John is worthy to baptize the One who is more powerful than he is. After all, John’s baptism is a baptism for repentance, and Jesus will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire.

Luke solves Matthew’s problem by throwing John into prison, leaving us all wondering who baptized Jesus. I must admit that I have always found this deeply disturbing. We have all grown up “knowing” John baptized Jesus in the Jordan. And yet, there it is, in black and white. Herod shut up John in prison and then Jesus was baptized.

What do you do with a Biblical text that is disturbing? Apparently I have avoided it, choosing to preach the story of baptism in Mark’s gospel even when the lectionary assigned Luke. In retrospect, that was cowardly of me. After all, Biblical texts are meant to be wrestled with. But there’s something even more telling: the committee who put the lectionary together – the three year cycle of scriptures that the Catholic church and most mainline denominations follow – skipped verses 19 and 20. Even the lectionary, in telling the story of Jesus’ baptism in Luke’s gospel, conveniently ignores that fact that John has been imprisoned.

Friends, we are no longer in a place where we can ignore difficult texts. As we start this study on The Way Forward, I think the most difficult conversation we will have will be about scripture. What do you do when it is there in black and white – John has been shut up in prison and then Jesus was baptized? We can’t be like the lectionary committee and simply skip those verses. And we can’t choose to ignore them and focus on something that is more comfortable.

I love how God works. In the midst of my wrestling this week, my daily devotional by Richard Rohr has been focusing on scripture. A few days ago this is what he wrote about reading scripture:

“Offer a prayer for guidance from the Holy Spirit before you make your interpretation of an important text. With an open heart and mind, seek the attitude of a beginner and learner. Pray as long as it takes to feel any certitudes loosen.”

Let me pause here: Pray as long as it takes to feel any certitudes loosen. I first had to identify my certitudes. Why does it matter who baptized Jesus? Why am I so certain that it had to be John? How do I let go of my certainty and seek the attitude of a beginner and learner?

Rohr goes on: “Once you have attained some degree of openness, try to move to a position of detachment from your own egoic will and its goals and desires—to be correct, to be secure, to stay with the familiar. This might take some time, but without such freedom from your own need for control, you will invariably make a text say what you need and want it to say.”

And I can’t help but laugh. Even the lectionary committee, in their need for control, tried to make the text say what they needed and wanted it to say. Of course Jesus was baptized by John! But not in Luke’s gospel. So now we must all ask the Holy Spirit to speak the truth into our desire to be correct, secure and familiar and to show us all how to read this text.

Rohr continues: “Then you must listen for a deeper voice than your own, which you will know because it will never shame or frighten you, but rather strengthen you, even when it is challenging you.” (Friday, January 11, 2019 – see https://cac.org/beginners-mind-2019-01-11/ for the full reflection.)

Friends, listening for that deeper voice than your own is far from easy. In the same way that each gospel writer tells the story of Jesus’ baptism through his own lens, we read the story through our own lens. And our lenses have their own certitudes and insecurities, their own fears and desires, their own degree of tolerance of the unknown.

So we faithfully read scripture by starting in prayer. Lord, let my certitudes loosen and give me the heart of a beginner. Help me step away from my own goals and desires to hear what You, Lord, have to say in this text.  Let me hear your voice and not my own.

And God speaks: It doesn’t matter who baptized Jesus. In the same way, it doesn’t matter who baptized you. It simply matters that you have been baptized. I am reminded of the conflict at the start of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. There were divisions among them as some said, “I belong to Apollos,” and others said, “I belong to Cephas,” because that is who baptized them.  Arguing about who baptized you simply leads to divisions. What matters is that you were baptized into this one body we call the church.

In the same way, it doesn’t matter whether you were dunked or simply had three drops of water placed on your head. And it doesn’t matter whether you were baptized as an infant or later in your life. What matters is that on that day you entered into a life-long relationship with God and with the church.

Now, over the years many of us have strayed from our baptismal vows. Some wrestle deeply with God, others find it easy to remain faithful. Some leave the church permanently, others return.  We are all at different places in our journey of faith. Still, in our baptisms God spoke a deep truth to each one of us: “You are my beloved child; with you I am well pleased.”

There it is in black and white: You are my beloved. You are deeply loved by God. Turn to your neighbor and say to them, “You are deeply loved by God.” And more than that: God is well pleased with you. Turn to your neighbor and tell them, “God is well pleased with you.”

Friends, I’m not trying to make the interpretation of scripture easy. I’m not looking for simple solutions to difficult texts. I believe the knowledge that we have all been baptized into one body and the assurance that we are all deeply loved by God stand as promises – we can’t let go of these truths. At the same time, they challenge us to be open to the Holy Spirit who descended like a dove on Jesus, and then drove him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. They challenge us to be open to the Holy Spirit who fell on the disciples like flames of fire at Pentecost and gave birth to the church. They challenge us to trust that, just as God showed up at our baptism, God shows up as we seek to learn and grow and follow Jesus more faithfully.