A Sermon for Lent 1

And it snowed and rained and froze….and it snowed and rained and froze…and it snowed – and poured rain; for forty days and forty nights, and it seemed like forever.

And it was a cough, and a hack, and a wheeze; a cough, a hack, a wheeze…that lasted for forty days and forty nights and seems like it will last forever;

 and it was sickness, and diagnosis, and surgery… forty days and forty nights;

it was a kid leaving home, and a friendship ending, and a family member dying;

and it is earthquakes, and war, and rumours of war….

It is the human condition.

Human beings can relate to the Noah story because of incidents and accidents within our own lives that have us feel like we’ve been sequestered on a boat, an ark, floating on uncharted wild waters, going who knows where.

We too, relate to Jesus in the wilderness for forty days with wild beasts and angels; tempted by Satan.  The Gospel of Mark leaves the temptations and the wild beasts to our own imaginations; although temptations are real enough that we likely have no need to scour our imaginations to name many.

How much time do you spend in the ark or in the wilderness?

The ark and the wilderness are the places I most often meet people. The ark and the wilderness are the vessels of sickness, dying, chaos, guilt, depression, addiction, shame, negativity, and hopelessness.  When in the vessel more often than not the rainbows are not seen and the angels seem absent.

It is not until after the rain: the sickness, the chaos, the dying, the guilt, - the situations that befall– that we see the rainbows or the angels.  It is rarely, if ever, before.

In the Gospel, John the Baptist is arrested by the Herodian authorities and thrown into prison – no place for rainbows or angels – and in the same sentence Jesus proclaims the good news of God.  “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”  In the same breath is uttered the human condition and the nearness of the kingdom of God.  The ark and rainbow; the wilderness and the angels – stand side by side, hand in hand; as if one needs the other to exist.

How many of you have been to Niagra Falls?  If you’ve been, you have experienced getting wet from the constant spray coming up from the gorge – where thousands of tonnes of water per second, fall 52 metres, and hit the Niagra River below.  On days when the sun is out, even just slightly out, rainbows are a constant presence … that is if you simply turn your head just so and you remember to take off your sunglasses.  It’s as if the whole area where one humungous constant rainbow; and all it takes to see one, is to look.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s lines from her poem Aurora Leigh expresses the idea of the persistent presence of rainbows, - good news- the kingdom of God. She wrote:

Earth's crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries,

And daub their natural faces unaware.

Do you see common bushes on fire – the presence of God, the good news, the holy, the kingdom of God close at hand?  Or rather do you only experience a common bush from which to take blackberries?  Do you live every moment ready to be continually, constantly surprised by rainbow after rainbow, angel after angel, good news after good news; joy upon joy regardless of human condition and circumstances that be.

When you think about the weather of February and consider the current condition of our streets and sidewalks –do you see the rainbows?  Even I have had enough… yes, I just said it, but for the record it is the ice not that snow that has bested me.  I ask myself, if there is “good news” to be found in the doldrums of winter?

As we enter the journey of forty days and forty nights that lead to Holy Week and the celebration of Easter; Lent provides the lens to see “good news.”  We are provided a season in the church year to winter; traditionally a time to reflect on the nature of one’s sin, a time to refocus and set priorities to improve one’s relationship with God and others, a time to take stock of one’s being and put it back into balance. 

The Germanic root of the word "lent" means –to lengthen- as we lengthen our time in prayer and fasting; as we lengthen our time of refocusing, taking stock, and setting priorities – so too the days lengthen as Easter draws nearer.  The world around us mimics the growing good news we rediscover through taking time to winter.

Time to winter.

We have been forced to over the past few weeks, have we not? I wonder, did you see the snow days as gifts or did you fret about what you were not accomplishing?  Did you find other stay-at-home projects to tackle to keep busy?  Did you curl up in a favourite spot with a warm drink, a good book, a blanket and enjoy the day?  Did you consider the weather to be an imposed rest day at God’s hand?

Over the years, I cannot recall the number of conversations I have had during pastoral visits where people have reflected on “the good old days” and “what a good old winter” was like.  Back in the day, goes the reminiscent story, involving lots of snow, high snowbanks, days of school missed, adventures of drifts over doors and snow to the eaves; of potbellied stoves in the church and either cutter rides or the whole family traipsing to the church via foot no matter how nasty...and the tale was told as if every minute was enjoyed!

Time to winter is forcing ourselves to slow down; in essence taking a snow day. The human condition of our time and culture, is to stir up the waves and increase the storm so that the ark is batted to and fro continually, and likewise to scurry through the wilderness creating dust storms ---- obscuring rainbows and angels in busyness, self-importance or self-improvement, and the desperation to earn and have more. Unhappy, discontented, and disconnected we miss relationship with ourselves, others, and God. We end up stuck on the sea and banished in the wilderness. A human being cannot stay stuck at sea (resources run out, the ark will eventually get holes, it will sink); and one cannot remain banished in the wilderness (susceptible to the elements and poisoness beasts, to wither and decay).  We have the option to wait out the sea and the wilderness – to crash and burn out.  We also have the option to embrace winter – TO come to a FULL STOP.

 In that stuck-ness and banishment… when everything stops… either because we stop to refocus, or forced upon us by us hitting bottom … there – when nothing else is – God waits for us to look; the good news has been present all along.

French Nobel Prize winning author Albert Camus wrote: In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.  I have heard it many times, “I never thought I would have the strength to get through that.” “I had peace despite the circumstance.” “I felt that I was not alone.” Those statements are the invincible summer – the good news – that has been and is being planted deep within.

Through Lent this community takes the time to reflect on our human condition, and encourages the moving of the head, the taking off of sunglasses, so that the rainbows can be experienced amidst the storms of life.  This journey asks that we enter the wilderness to take an honest look at what is out of balance in our lives, what are the temptations to be set aside, and what wild beasts do we need to face… so that when Easter morn rises our hearts are refocused to see and experience Jesus in glory - full of promise, full of life – rainbows and angels ever present.

My Lenten prayer for each of you is a variation of a traditional Irish blessing:
God grant you to experience/ in every storm, a rainbow,/ in every tear, a smile,/in every care, a promise/
in every wilderness, an angel; / For every problem life sends, A faithful friend to share/ in every sigh, a sweet song,/ in the darkest night, a light.  Be not afraid of the journey, for you are not alone; reflect and become balanced, so you may share Christ’s love with all.  Amen.