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.
