Sermon from Feb. 18, 2024
First installment of a Lenten series, "Igniting Your Spirit to Find Heaven on Earth"
Mark 1:9-15
So, first, a quick heads-up: This sermon will be a little longer than
usual. Consider it a moment of Lenten
discipline.
We find ourselves now four days out from
the shooting at the Super Bowl parade, struggling to make sense of the
senseless. It’s a time for lamentation, as
we offered here Thursday evening. But our
laments aren’t limited to prayers in church. Interviewed after the shooting, Chief of
Police Stacy Graves lamented, “This is not Kansas City.” Indeed, mass shootings don’t fit with our sense
of community. But the reality is that,
in fact, this is Kansas City. And
not just Kansas City. This is also Las
Vegas, and Orlando, and Virginia Tech, and Sandy Hook, and El Paso, and
Lewiston, and Uvalde. The difference now
is that we’ve joined the list of places where good folks thought mass shootings
wouldn’t happen.
Of course, Wednesday’s shooting comes on
the heels of a record-setting year for gun violence in Kansas City. Every week, as we offer the Prayers of the People
and name our neighbors who’ve been killed, I shake my head and wonder, “How long,
Lord?” That’s not a lament about God’s
inaction, by the way. It’s shorthand
for, “How long, Lord, will we say ‘yes’ to the evil of violence that slithers
at the edges of our hearts?”
This is the first Sunday of Lent and the beginning
of our Lenten preaching series, “Igniting Your Spirit to Find Heaven on Earth.” I have to say, the igniting that our spirits received
this week wasn’t exactly what we had in mind for this series or for the booklet
of reflections that will soon be in your mailbox. I don’t know about you, but I came away from
Wednesday furious, which is not an emotion I know how to have. But with a few days’ time, fury can morph
into reflection.
So: What’s next for my spirit, and for
yours, and for the spirit of our community?
Is this a moment when we have any business seeking heaven on earth?
Absolutely it is.
As we start our pilgrimage, it’s good to
recognize where we begin. And one way to
name where we are today is where we found Jesus in today’s Gospel reading: in
the wilderness. In that fast-cut story
from Mark’s Gospel, we see Jesus flipping from what must have been joy to lamentation.
In one moment, he’s being baptized and comes
out of the water to a voice from heaven proclaiming, “You are my Son, the Beloved;
with you I am well-pleased” (1:11). And then
“immediately” the Spirit of the Father who loves him so much drives him out
into the wilderness.
That’s odd parenting, to say the
least. Why would God do it? Well, that’s a different sermon, maybe the
sermon I would have preached before this Wednesday afternoon. But we’re
left with Jesus out there “in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan” (Mark
1:13). Now, in the fast cuts we get in Mark’s Gospel, we don’t hear the
dialogue that Matthew gives us – the details of temptation, as Satan offers Jesus
food, and the chance to flaunt his divine status, and an easy road to power. No, here in
Mark, we just know Jesus is out there in a desolate desert landscape, what must
have felt like hell itself.
It seems to me we’re in the wilderness,
too. And that brings us to this week’s stop in our sermon series. If we’re seeking to ignite our spirits to
find heaven on earth, we have to start by recognizing our own spiritual wiring
and considering how we might work with it to go deeper in relationship with God. In fact, we might start a few questions before
that: Am I really wired for
relationship with God? What if I can’t
feel it? What stands in the way of
connecting with God for me?
The wilderness is a good place to ask
those questions, for Jesus and for us. Now,
Jesus knows he’s God’s beloved – he’s heard it straight from the deity’s
mouth. And we know it, too – intellectually,
at least. After all, “God so loved the
world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not
perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).
Or, as the bumper sticker on my refrigerator puts it, “God loves you
whether you like it or not.” If God’s
opening the door to heaven for you, you must be worthy of God’s love. Now, we may believe that in our heads. But knowing it in our hearts can be a
different matter, especially here in the wilderness – the wilderness of grief, the
wilderness of isolation, the wilderness of futility.
So, in a community that’s lost its innocence,
just four days past the parade shooting, what do we do here in the wilderness? When we’re tempted to listen to the power of
evil selling us hopelessness and empty promises, how do we “beat down Satan
under our feet” (BCP 152)? How do we
remember that we are each God’s beloved, and how do we live that way?
Mark’s story gives us at least two clues –
a blessing and a call. First, the
blessing: Jesus is indeed out in the wilderness, but he’s not alone. The story says, “The angels waited on him”
(1:13). Now, my hunch is that doesn’t
mean they were bringing him pina coladas on the beach by the Dead Sea. Instead, remember who angels are in
scripture. Angels are God’s messengers. They come bearing God’s word – a saving word –
to frightened, beloved people. There’s a
reason why angels are always telling folks, “Do not be afraid.” The message they’re bringing, from God’s lips
to our ears, is that God’s got this. No matter
how lonely or frightened or angry the world has made you, God’s got your back.
So, that’s the blessing. And along with that, there’s a call – a call
that came to Jesus the Beloved and that comes to us. You’ll notice that the last scene in this
morning’s story puts the camera on Jesus as he walks out of the
wilderness. He’s endured his
isolation. He’s lamented what must have sometimes
felt like abandonment. He’s been sustained
by angels, and he’s stared down Satan. And
so, when the evil of the world coils and strikes, he shifts to action. Jesus’ cousin and friend John the Baptist is
arrested by the authorities who want to silence him, so Jesus sets out on what
will be a long, hard road – immediately and for the next three years. He leaves the wilderness near the Dead Sea
and heads back home, a 90-mile hike to Galilee.
But he’s not retreating in defeat and despair. Instead, he’s on the advance, proclaiming good
news to counter the voices selling despair.
“The time is fulfilled,” he says, “and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent, and believe in the good news.” (Mark
1:15) Recognize that God’s reign and
rule supersedes what the world tells you.
Change your mind, which is what “repent” means, and set your heart and your
feet on the path of love.
So, back to this week’s focus in our
Lenten sermon series. How do we work
with our own spiritual wiring to deepen our relationship with God when we find
ourselves in a wilderness time like this?
First, remember the story. Jesus
wasn’t alone there in the wilderness, and the same is true for us. Alongside the anger and frustration is the
assurance that we lament together, and that we lament to the God who hears us
and comes to our aid. God will pick us
back up, and walk alongside us, and keep pointing us toward our hearts’ true
home – the kingdom of heaven, even in the brokenness. Then, once you’re back on your feet, keep
your eyes and ears open. Look for the angels
in your midst, reminding you of love’s power.
Listen for the voice of God in scripture and the words of people you trust. Make time to be still enough to hear God speaking
to you in the daily-ness of life. Look
for patterns of direction and fingerprints of blessing that affirm your
belovedness. Come to worship; and drink
in the sustenance of Word and song and sacrament; and let the Spirit recharge
you for whatever lies ahead.
So, our first step is remembering the
story and listening for the voices of angels.
The second step is acting on what you hear. Steer clear of despair by using the spiritual
gifts you bring to the journey. Some of
us are listeners, gifted at being present with people in their suffering. Some of us are pray-ers, gifted at offering
God our common laments and our hopes for healing in the assurance that prayer
changes things. Some of us are encouragers,
gifted at inspiring people to live their faith and honor God’s reign and rule
in the world. Some of us are analysts, gifted
at naming different options and discerning among them. Some of us are relationship-builders, working
with people across similarities and differences to find unexpected
solutions. And some of us are mobilizers,
gifted at organizing people to translate their faith into change. We have a variety of gifts, as the apostle
Paul wrote, but they’re empowered by the same Spirit. And using those gifts is our best antidote to
despair. For, in our own ways, each of
us is wired to join Jesus on that road to Galilee, proclaiming the kingdom so
that God’s will may be done on earth as it is in heaven.
As we live our individual gifts, remember we
also walk this road together. Let me
close with an invitation to something that’s suddenly taken on immediate relevance
given the events of last week. You may
remember, two summers ago, when the abortion amendment was on the Kansas ballot,
about 25 of us gathered for a listening session – not to debate the topic but
to hear each other’s passions about it. It
was a healing moment, a time when people could gather in love as well as
disagreement, and listen to each other, and honor the dignity of everyone in
the room. Recently, our parish
Discernment Commission has been putting together a series of listening
opportunities for the next few months, addressing issues like divisiveness in politics,
the war between Israel and Hamas, the effects of social media, the well-being
of our education system, and the ethics of end-of-life decisions. We’re calling it the St. Andrew’s Listening
in Love Forum, and it will be led by one of our resident experts in helping
people listen, counselor Ann Rainey.
The series will happen on the fourth Tuesday
of the month through June, and it’ll start next week as we create a safe space to
share our hearts related to the issue of the moment – gun violence. As it happens, we have a presenting moment legislatively,
too. The Missouri House is considering a bill that would allow concealed carry
in churches and on public transportation.1 Now, some of us will hear that and think, “Why
in God’s name would we put guns into more public gatherings, given the
shooting on Wednesday?” And others of us
will hear that and think, “How else can you stop someone like the shooters on
Wednesday?” Again, this session on Feb.
27 will not be a time to debate but a time to model the most basic skill we
must learn if we hope to find heaven on earth, and that’s listening – in this
case, listening to each other without vilifying each other, and listening for
ways the Spirit might move us forward together.
The bulletin and Messenger this weekend have more information on the
Listening in Love Forum, so I hope you’ll consider coming.
Here's the hope I take away from today’s Gospel reading and from this awful week: We can make our way out of the wilderness. We can join Jesus as he hits the road proclaiming that the kingdom of God has come near and calling people to change their minds. It’s a matter of tapping into the spiritual wiring God has given each of us and letting Jesus set the course.
1.
HB
1708, “Changes the law regarding
firearm concealed carry permits.” https://house.mo.gov/Bill.aspx?bill=HB1708&year=2024&code=R
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