Sunday, March 25, 2007

Sermon - Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C (BCP)

Isaiah 43:16-21 link to NRSV text
Psalm 126 link to NRSV text
Luke 20:9-19 link to NRSV text



Wilderness.

It is a somewhat scary word. We think of "the wilderness" as the opposite of the comforts offered by "civilization." For centuries, human beings have lived in dense, concentrated towns or cities not only for convenience, but as a protection against the dangers of uninhibited nature. The wilderness is a place where things are wild and unpredictable, a place where we are not in control. In the wilderness, things are uncertain. We never know what unseen threats may await us, what animal may be lurking around the next tree. It is a place many of us want to avoid, not to seek out.

But during Lent, we are called to go INTO the wilderness. The 40 days of Lent symbolically recall both the 40 years that the Israelites wandered in the wilderness after the exodus from Egypt and the 40 days that Jesus spent in prayer and fasting in the desert before the start of his public ministry. In both of these stories, the wilderness is a place of danger, of fear, of uncertainty -- but also a place of encounter with God.

The idea of "the wilderness" usually conjures up an image of a place void of God's presence, a place where we are distant from God. To be in the wilderness, to be wandering in the desert, is to be lost, to be out of touch with God, to be in a "dry spell" spiritually, if you will. But the scriptures for this morning remind us that God is present, and even active, in the wilderness.

In Isaiah 43, God declares that God is "about to do a new thing" in the wilderness. "Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Isaiah 43:18-19). In this passage, God promises to deliver the Israelites from captivity under the Babylonians, just as God delivered them from the Egyptians centuries before. Using imagery that echoes the story of the exodus, already a central sacred story for the Israelites at this point in their history, the writer of Isaiah ties the Israelites' present liberation to the salvation history that traces back to the exodus from Egypt. Just as God delivered the Israelites from the hands of the Egyptians, so will God deliver them from the hands of the Babylonians. Isaiah promises us that God will "make a way in the wilderness;" that is, God will bring deliverance from oppression.

The psalm for today also gives us an image of God active in the wilderness, active in nature. God has "restored the fortunes of Zion," the psalmist writes, restoring the land to the people, bringing forth a harvest from a land formerly barren, and simultaneously turning the Israelite's tears into "songs of joy." The metaphors of sowing and reaping, so prevalent in the biblical texts, show the extent to which God's activity was perceived and felt in the land, in nature, even in the wilderness, in the land that is least life-giving. The psalmist promises us that God will "restore the fortunes of Zion;" that is, God will bring new life after a period of lifeless and despair.

The gospel reading for today also shows God doing a new thing in the land -- this time with regards to the vineyard in the parable. God, represented in the story by the vineyard owner, destroys the corrupt tenants who abuse, reject and kill God's messengers and gives the vineyard to "others," presumably those who will respect those who come on behalf of God. Jesus promises us that God will make "the stone that the builders rejected to be the cornerstone;" that is, God will vindicate those the world has mistreated and deemed worthless.

Whether literally or metaphorically, these readings show us that God is doing a new thing -- IN THE WILDERNESS. God is doing a new thing precisely in those places that seem the most threatening, the most hopeless, the most fearful. God is doing a new thing precisely in those places where we may doubt God is even present.

"Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old," God commands the people in the reading from Isaiah (Isaiah 43:18). Even if the "former things" that have happened to us give us reason to doubt God's goodness or God's love for us, as the Israelites surely must have during the periods of slavery and exile, the scriptures tell us that we have the promise of God's deliverance, that God is active even in those periods of despair, that we can look forward to the new things that God has in store for us in our lives.

"I am about to do a new thing," God says, "now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Isaiah 43:19) Just as with the ancient Israelites, God is about to do a new thing in OUR midst, in our community and in our lives! Do we perceive it? If we dwell too much on the past, God tells us, we will miss the new thing that God is doing in the present. Unless we take the time to look for it, we may indeed NOT perceive it. We must go to the wilderness, to take the time to look and listen for that "new thing" that God is doing -- so we can give thanks and rejoice in God's goodness in our lives and in the life of our community.

Barbara Brown Taylor, an Episcopal priest in Georgia and the author of many books, including Leaving Church, writes that "faith in God has both a center and an edge, and that each is necessary for the soul's health." The "center" is the liturgical life of the church within the buildings and hierarchical structures, and the "edge" is that wilderness on the outskirts of the community. The center is where the stories of encounter with God get preserved and passed on to future generations, she writes, but the edge, or the wilderness, is the place where most of those encounters have happened.

The wilderness can be scary, "a place where things are wild and unpredictable, a place where we are not in control" -- but is this not the very definition of what it means to be in God's presence? When we step boldly into the wilderness, we open ourselves to encounter God. When was the last time you went there, literally or metaphorically, willingly or unwillingly, and opened yourself to the voice of God?

Two weeks ago, I went on a mostly silent Lenten retreat through the Resurrection House program. In the weeks before the retreat, my life was incredibly busy and my mind was constantly going a million miles an hour... and I had completely lost touch with God's presence. For a while, I had been feeling like I was wandering in a mental wilderness -- a somewhat scary and uncertain place of not knowing what the future holds for me after this internship, of feeling restless, without a sense of direction.

But during that retreat, during the silent time I spent walking in the wilderness -- well, if you can call the 22 acres of woods on the property of Knowles Mercy Retreat Center "wilderness!" -- I reconnected with God. I was reminded of God's love for me, I saw God's active presence in nature, and one day as I walked, I suddenly received a strong sense of direction and peace -- a sense that "it's time to go home," that the next step of my life will lead me back to that land to which I am deeply connected on a visceral level -- that is, the South. I didn't receive any kind of insights just yet as to what the extended future will hold, but I do believe I received guidance for the next step. This is the "new thing" that God is doing in my life.

I would encourage you all to also spend some time, some REAL time, in the wilderness with God in these last weeks before Easter. Find some patch of nature somewhere where you can walk or sit, empty your mind of distracting thoughts, and listen for what God is trying to communicate to YOU this Lent. What things is God making new in your own life?

May we be always open to the wild and unpredictable ways of our God, may we always be willing to relinquish our control and to listen and wait for the ways in which God is calling to us in the wilderness. Amen.

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