Wednesday, 17 February 2016

Sermon, Sunday 14 Feb - Lent 1/ 'Marked as God's own'

Sermon for the first Sunday of Lent

Readings: Ps 91; Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13

SERMON/ 'Marked as God's own'

I don’t know about all of you, but it feels as if we’ve only
just finished with Christmas...and yet, here we are, moving into Lent and the journey towards the cross, and onwards to the resurrection hope of Easter:
so, in the interests of good community and family relations, I might as well make the following public service announcement and warn you that - you’ve only got 313 shopping days left until Christmas.

On Wednesday evening – Ash Wednesday -
a small group of us gathered here to mark ourselves with ashes.
Before we made the sign of the cross on our palms,
we were reminded of life and of mortalitywith the traditional words:
‘from dust we come, to dust we return...’
And, as ashen crosses were etched onto each outstretched palm,
or on the back of the hand, we were also reminded of whose we are
as the following words were said:
‘you are marked as God’s own’.

Marked as God’s own...
Identity is a powerful thing.
Have any of you ever watched the T.V. show ‘Who do you think you are’?
For those of you who haven't, the basic set up is that
you watch some famous person delve back into their family history.
Often there’s some interesting twists and turns,
and always, throughout each episode,
an outline of a family tree is shown, and is added to over the course of the show.

And it’s as if Luke, writing the story of Jesus,
is creating a bible version of ‘Who do you think you are’ 
for Jesus in the verses immediately before our text this morning -
it's always interesting to see what comes before and after a
passage, so we can see a bigger picture, or have a better sense of the context.
Here, Luke’s setting out Jesus’ credentials, if you like –
pre-empting any questions from his readers along the lines of
‘So who does this Jesus think he is then?’
There, in the gospel, Luke shows us in a long genealogy
Jesus’ family tree which runs from Joseph of Nazareth,
through 74 other names, stretching finally all the way back to God.
Son of Joseph...
a whole lot of names...
Son of David...
even more names...
Son of God...
In this long, long family tree, Luke demonstrates where Jesus comes from,
who Jesus is, and shows that he is marked as God’s own -
God’s son.

Having established Jesus’ identity, Luke then moves the story:
family tree gives way to barren wilderness.
Jesus is led by the Spirit into the desert where he stays for 40 days –
40 days, echoing the 40 years that the children of Israel
wandered with Moses in the wilderness after their liberation from slavery in Egypt.

We heard in the reading that Jesus’ time in the wilderness was a time of testing:
we know that there are temptations put before him by the devil.
To avert his hunger, he’s challenged to turn stones to bread;
in his weakened state, he’s challenged to take control over all the kingdoms of the world;
to test God’s protection, he’s challenged to leap from the highest point of the Temple.
These are the obvious temptations outlined in this passage,
however, the greatest temptation that Jesus is faced with is much subtler:
and it concerns his sense of identity.
Probably the most powerful word in the whole story about the
temptations in the wilderness is the word ‘if’.
‘If’
Such a little word, but so much hangs upon it.
As the devil places the various temptations before Jesus, he states:
‘IF you are the Son of God...’
The devil is daring Jesus to prove that he is, in fact, God’s Son.
And of course, were Jesus to accept the challenge
it would demonstrate the seed of a doubt:
is he marked as God’s own?
Is he God’s Son?
If he takes the challenge, then, he fails –
for he has lost his integrity, lost his sense of identity:
but Jesus rises above the challenge put before him,
he quotes scripture and leaves well enough alone.
He doesn’t need to prove who he is: he already knows.

Of the bread into stones: ahhh, how tempting it would be to
not only stave off his own hunger,
but alleviate the hunger of the world...
all who are starving would have bread from stones:
it seems right,
it seems reasonable,
and yet, it’s a quick fix –
it doesn’t address the deeper issues of why folk are starving in the first place;
it side-steps the systems that cause poverty.
In going for the quick fix, while initially folk would be fed, it would prop up unjust and corrupt systems: the poor would remain poor,
the rich would continue to exploit.
To go for the quick fix would undermine
God’s justice, and in the end, not bring about God's kindom for all
in a way that was fair and right.

Of controlling all the kingdoms of the world:
this is very much tied in with identity,
and at the heart of the temptation is a great lie:
a lie about the nature of power,
and a lie about ownership:
Jesus, as Son of God, is already ruler of all –
he does not have to bend the knee to gain control...
But, also, the kind of control implied in the temptation is of power being dictatorship –
power being taken, and used as a weapon to crush and to subjugate.
That kind of power is rejected by Jesus:
that kind of power is not the way of God.

And of testing God – again, identity is at stake here:
is God faithful? To test God would imply that perhaps God is not...

Overall, then, the passage is very much concerned with testing Jesus’ identity:
with the devil, through the challenges, saying:
‘Go on then, just who do you think you are?’
And not in a friendly, enquiring way, but in a way aimed at completely
undermining the mission and ministry of Jesus before it even gets off the ground.

The wilderness is a testing place, a place of transformation;
a place, too, of insight.
From the wilderness, Jesus emerges,
stronger, perhaps with a deeper sense of who he is:
a sense that he is indeed marked as God’s own –
is God’s Son.
Unique and loved by God and called for a specific purpose:
to show, in his life,
in his encounters with people,
in his arrest, crucifixion, and death...
and, in his resurrection
what it is like to be fully alive in God –
and to show humanity a glimpse of glory:
the kindom of heaven on earth.

Identity is a powerful thing.
And we, as followers of Christ, are marked as God’s own.
As we follow the cycle of a church year which is designed to reflect and follow
the story of Jesus, we arrive, every year, at this time of Lent –
where we move into the wilderness,
where we ponder temptation and our identity,
where we re-orient ourselves to God a little more consciously,
as we follow in the footsteps of Jesus.
Who do we think we are?
The apostle, Paul, reminds us in his Letter to the Romans:
it is as we confess that ‘Jesus is Lord’
that we acknowledge and own our identity in Christ –
it’s the simple, yet profound, statement of faith
which identifies us as marked as God’s own –
‘All who call on the name of the Lord will be saved.’
And, in this season of Lent, we have the time and space
to reflect on that identity and how we are living as those who are God’s own.
What are those things in our lives that cause us to become distracted –
that make us turn our focus from God?
What does it mean to be a follower of Christ?

In the story of Jesus’ temptation, we read that,
having faced the challenges put before him:
bread
power
faith
and, having stayed true to who he was –
affirming his identity,
keeping his integrity,
that he went out from the wilderness and began living into his calling,
calling disciples, exercising his ministry.
From the wilderness time of reflection, he is moved to action.

Marked as God’s own,
as we move through this season of Lent,
let’s allow ourselves to take up the gift of time –
to reflect on whose we are,
to listen to the still, small voice of God,
to re-orient our faces toward the One
who loves us and who has called us into being.
May this season of Lenten reflection
help us grow in faith and in the knowledge of the One who loves us;
may it move us to live into our own calling,
as we take up anew our identity of Christ’s body in the world.

Writer and social activist, Edwina Gately wrote the following poem,
entitled ‘Called to become’, which I share with you for further
Lenten reflection about your identity as one of God’s own:

You are called to become
A perfect creation.
No one is called to become
Who you are called to be.
It does not matter
How short or tall
Or thick-set or slow
You may be.
It does not matter
Whether you sparkle with life
Or are as silent as a still pool.
Whether you sing your song aloud
Or weep alone in darkness.
It does not matter
Whether you feel loved and admired
Or unloved and alone
For you are called to become
a perfect creation.
No one's shadow
Should cloud your becoming.
No one's light
Should dispel your spark.
For the Lord delights in you.
Jealously looks upon you
And encourages with gentle joy
Every movement of the Spirit
Within you.
Unique and loved you stand.
Beautiful or stunted in your growth
But never without hope and life.
For you are called to become
A perfect creation.
This becoming may be
Gentle or harsh.
Subtle or violent.
But it never ceases.
Never pauses or hesitates.
Only is—
Creative force—
Calling you
Calling you to become
A perfect creation. 

Identity is a powerful thing:
As you travel through this wilderness season of Lent,
remember that you are marked as God’s own,
and He will never leave you, nor forsake you.
And may you have a blessed journey as you seek God, and live in his love.  Amen.

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