pentecost

St. Thomas' Church, Whitemarsh
Pentecost, Year B, 2015

Many of you are probably familiar with the story of Pentecost: when, after Jesus ascended into heaven, the Holy Spirit fell upon the disciples. The Holy Spirit gave them the ability to speak in different languages, empowering them for ministry throughout the world. 

When I finished seminary, I moved back to Omaha, Nebraska, where I had done my priestly discernment. Now the diocese—as well as the church where I worked—had a companion relationship with South Sudan. Since my title at the church was Assistant for Mission and Youth, mission work was part of my job. And since we had this companion relationship, I was fortunate enough to be able to spend about a month in South Sudan, on a trip led by one of my parishioners. 

One day, after we had been in the tiny village of Maar for about a week, Bishop Ezekiel, the Bishop of the Diocese of Twic East, said that we were going to go to a neighboring village overnight for a huge service. Oh, and by the way we would be leaving in 40 minutes. So my parishioner and I went to our little huts and quickly packed overnight bags. We made the trek across the cracked roads to the village—now if you think the potholes are bad here, you’re sadly mistaken; they had holes in their roads so big a truck could fall in it, and that is not an exaggeration! We made it to the village where we were greeted by singing and dancing. We finally were served dinner at 9pm (we hadn’t had anything since earlier that morning). At dinner the Bishop casually mentioned that I would be preaching at the service in the morning. Well, I sort of lost my appetite after hearing that and quickly made my way back to the hut where I was staying to try and pound out a sermon. I was fortunate that my hut in this village had electricity so that I didn’t have to try and write by the light of a flashlight! 

The Bishop had said that I could preach on anything. If you know me (and most other Episcopalians), you know that this would be another source of anxiety. There’s this story about 3 clergy people who gather together upon hearing the news that a meteor is headed straight for Earth. They discuss among themselves what they are going to preach at their churches that Sunday. The baptist minister decides he’s going to preach on how the congregation needs to repent of their sins and accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior. The Roman Catholic priest says he’s going to preach about returning to the one true church. The two of them look at the Episcopal priest and ask her what she’s going to preach on. She replies, “I’m going to preach on the lectionary, of course!” 

It’s a funny story, but it has some truth to it: it would have been easier for me to try to preach on a specific passage than to try and choose from all the verses in the Bible. Luckily for me, I had been warned before traveling to South Sudan that I could be asked to preach at any moment, so I had been thinking about what I would preach on and had a few ideas ready.

In the morning the villagers let me borrow a cassock, surplice, and stole, and then we went into the church. The service was quite the production: 7 priests and 4 deacons were ordained, 30 people were confirmed, and 2 lay leaders were commissioned. The youth choir and Sunday School children performed. The service went something like this: the Bishop gave his welcome address, then there were songs and prayers, then the reading, then more songs and prayers, ordinations, confirmations, and commissions, more songs and prayers, the sermon, songs and dances, more songs and prayers, the offertory, and songs and prayers. The whole thing lasted about 3 1/2 hours!! 

Now, while English is a common language in South Sudan, there are obviously other languages spoken. When I preached, I would speak a sentence, then someone would translate it into Dinka, then another person would translate the Dinka into Nuer. Some tribes in South Sudan are known for their agricultural prowess. The Dinka and Nuer, however, are known for their skill in herding cattle, which are a form of currency for many in South Sudan. Because of this shared expertise, the tribes have historically been antagonistic toward one another. But in the Diocese of Twic East, the Dinka and Nuer have been coming together, united by their mission to serve Christ and to make him known. 

Do you remember the story of the tower of Babel? How, in the beginning, everyone in the world spoke the same language, and in their hubris they attempted to build a tower that would reach to heaven so they could “make a name for [them]selves” (Genesis 11:4). The Lord was not amused, and came down and “confuse[d] their language” (Gen 11:7). Because people were unable to communicate as they had before, the tower of Babel was abandoned and everyone scattered to the ends of the earth. 

Flash forward to Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples and they began speaking in different languages, so that everyone around them was able to hear the Good News in their own language. Pentecost began the process of reversing what happened at the tower of Babel. 

In the small church in a remote village of South Sudan one January morning, some Dinka and Nuer and Americans were reunited under one banner: that of Jesus Christ. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a glimpse into the kingdom of God: people uniting across language, culture, race, and gender to worship God. 

Jesus came to earth to bring God's people back into the fold, to remind us that each one of us is made in the image of God, loved unconditionally. Jesus showed us how to turn back to God and how to treat each other, and when he rose back up to heaven, he did not leave us to fend for ourselves. He sent us the gift of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate and Comforter. 

At some point during the service it rained. I later found out that, because it is so rare, the people of South Sudan consider rain to be a good omen. But I have a sneaking suspicion that it also had something to do with the Holy Spirit. 

The 7 deacons who were ordained priests that day.

Image found here.

The village of Maar was somewhere northwest of Bor, in Jonglei state

Image found here.

abide in my love

St. Thomas' Church, Whitemarsh

Easter 6, Year B, 2015

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love” John 15:9

In last week’s reading Jesus used a metaphor of a vine and vineyard to describe the interconnected relationship between us and God. Today’s passage explores love. Now, this love is not romantic love or brotherly/sisterly love, but the kind of never-ending, never-waning, love that can only be found within the relationship of a faithful God to God’s people. 

If this relationship seems a bit one-sided, that’s because it almost always is one-sided. God, being God, showers us with love that abides; love that is steadfast, faithful, constant, and enduring. And in return, we are asked to share that love with others. 

Yet we so often fall short, me included. Why is this?

Obviously, one reason is that we are not God, but are human; imperfect creatures that continuously stray from the path and need redeeming. 

Love takes hard work and sacrifice. Love within a community is no different, whether that community be your family, roommates, co-workers, or fellow parishioners. Some of the best and worst relationships I have ever had have been with roommates and parishioners. Loving our neighbors and family members and the people in the pews beside us can be really hard work! 

Jesus promises joy for those who follow the commandment to love one another (John 15:11). Now, this joy doesn’t guarantee that we won’t experience difficulty. In fact, joy is often the end result of making it through challenging situations. In the next chapter, John compares this type of joy to a mother who, having labored, rejoices in the birth of her child (John 16:20-21). Another example might be the feeling after completing a marathon or triathlon, or defending a masters or doctoral thesis. 

Following Jesus’ command to love one another takes intentionality, dedication, time, and hard work. Some might attribute our difficulty with abiding in love and being in relationship to a lack of commitment. I would agree that our society as a whole does seem to have issues with this, especially in the last few years, but I believe that our problems with abiding in love start somewhere else. 

As we navigate through our lives, we often seek to discover meaning, but I think this quest is  actually rooted in a search for self-worth. We mistakenly attribute our worth to the ability to gain power, respect, authority, and wealth, or by our appearance, social circle, children, etc. 

I think most of us are really walking around completely insecure but desperately trying to hide it. I know I am, anyway. And when it comes to God, I feel so far from worthy. How could I possibly comprehend the One who created the extraordinary, intricate, immense world that we live in? How could I possibly pray sufficiently to the One who became one of us, came down to our level so that we could relate better to him? How could I possibly thank enough the One who “lay down [his] life” for us (John 15:13)? I am not worthy! But the thing is, in reality we are worthy. Not because of our merits, no. We are worthy because of God’s love for us, God’s creation, made in God’s image. We are loved unconditionally, exactly as we are. 

How would I behave differently if I didn’t just know but believed that I was loved unconditionally? How would you? Would we carry ourselves differently? Treat ourselves differently? Would it affect our interactions with one another? 

This week I invite you to revel in the knowledge that you are thoroughly and completely loved. And then respond to this love by loving one another. 

Image found here.

you are witnesses

St. Thomas’ Church, Whitemarsh

Easter 3, Year B, 2015

“You are witnesses of these things.” 

The Easter season is filled with stories of people who witnessed Jesus’ resurrection. This makes sense; after all, Jesus’ death and subsequent resurrection are the most incredible, compelling, and important part of our faith. The resurrection is why we are Christians instead of remaining Jews. 

Last week in the resurrection-witnessing lineup we heard about Thomas and his need for proof before believing that Jesus had come back from the dead. At the beginning of today’s passage, taken from a different Gospel account, we find the disciples talking over Jesus’ appearance to two men walking on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. In Luke’s Gospel, the women who come to anoint Jesus are the first witnesses of his resurrection, followed by the Emmaus duo and then Peter. To the rest of the disciples, it’s all hearsay; they haven’t experienced Jesus’ return for themselves, and so they don’t quite know what to believe. They are going over the details of the Emmaus story trying to process what it means when all of a sudden, Jesus appears among them. 

After all they have heard, it is still a shock to see Jesus again; the text says that they are “startled and terrified, and [think] that they [are] seeing a ghost” (v. 37). In Luke’s version, it is not just Thomas who expresses incredulity; most of them have a difficult time believing it’s the same Jesus they knew and loved and followed. Jesus assures them that he is real, proving it by letting them touch the marks of the nails in his hands and feet, and eating something to show that his digestive system is still intact. He is not a ghost, but a living, breathing human being. 

I find it interesting that the first meal Jesus has with the Emmaus travelers is the Eucharist, the bread and wine. But when Jesus is with his disciples, the first meal he shares with them is broiled fish, which hearkens back to when Jesus was first gathering his disciples and promising them that rather than fishermen they would be fishers of men. 

After the piece of broiled fish, Jesus opens up their minds to receive and understand Scripture. He doesn’t keep them out of the loop, but makes sure that they have the tools they need to build the movement that later will become the Church. After they are thus equipped, the disciples are sent out to broadcast the message of repentance and God’s forgiveness to all people, beginning with those in Jerusalem. 

My previous rector likes to tell the story of an experience with one particular group of eighth grade confirmands. They were gathered in the church around the altar while the rector explained to them about the Eucharist. The eighth graders were listening as best they could, when the rector asked them a question. “What is the most important piece of furniture in a church?” The kids just looked at him. He repeated the question, this time patting the altar, “What is the most important piece of furniture in a church?” Without hesitating, a boy answered, “the exit sign.” [facepalm] “The exit sign?” the rector asked, becoming quite irritated that the kid wasn’t taking the lesson seriously. “What do you mean, ‘the exit sign’?” The boy replied, “because after the service we exit and go out into the world to do God’s work.”  

When Jesus is resurrected, he spends some time opening up Scripture to his disciples, but that’s not where the story ends. The disciples don’t remain hidden in their houses; they follow Jesus’ command to go out into the world and spread the Good News. If we keep this story to ourselves, then what’s the point? 

We come here each week to learn about God’s saving work in Scripture. We come here each week to share in the sacred meal of Christ’s body and blood, food for the journey beyond these doors. We come here each week as a community to pray and worship together as the Body of Christ, but the service doesn’t end there. 

When you go out of these doors today, ask yourself what you are going to do. 

Jesus appears to the disciples

(image found here)

Judas

St. Thomas’ Church, Whitemarsh

Spy Wednesday, Year B, 2015

John 13:21-32

When I was in fourth grade, I had a best friend named Lindsay. Lindsay lived in the same neighborhood and was in my class at school. We played together. We helped each other with our homework. We even came up with a secret alphabet, which we used to write each other notes. Lindsay and I were inseparable. The next year a new girl moved into our neighborhood. She was cool and confident and we wanted to be her friend. She and Lindsay hit it off right away. The only problem was, the new girl didn’t like me. And as a result, Lindsay chose the new girl over me. I’d chalk it up to pre-adolescence, but the same thing happened to me after college. And as silly as this sounds, I still nurse these hurts to this day. Jesus talks a whole lot about forgiveness, but it’s especially difficult when you are betrayed by people close to you.

Few people in the history of Christianity are reviled more than Judas Iscariot. His name is basically a curse word, and it’s no wonder: he’s portrayed as a thief who stole from the disciples’ common purse, of which he was in charge. He protests exorbitant spending because he wants to keep the money for himself. And, when either greed or jealousy or frustration take over, he plots to hand over Jesus to the authorities in exchange for money. In some ways, even Satan seems less of a threat than Judas because at least we know up front that Satan is pure evil. It’s harder to swallow Judas’ betrayal because he is one of the 12, chosen as a disciple to proclaim the Good News. He preaches, teaches, heals, journeys, and eats with Jesus. He knows that Jesus is the Messiah. And still he betrays him. 

I must admit, as strange as it sounds, I have always had a soft spot for Judas. I want so badly to believe that there was some other motivation for his betrayal, some reason that the gospel writers were too biased to include in their accounts because of their anger with him. It’s not like the other disciples’ were super faithful, either: all of them deserted him in the garden when Jesus was arrested, and don’t forget Peter denied Jesus three times. Even so, Judas is not the most likable fellow, and his death (either by hanging himself or spontaneous disemboweling) seems to satisfy our need for justice, and perhaps also our propensity for schadenfreude.

There’s a particular midrash, or ancient Jewish biblical commentary, that explores what happens when the Israelites have crossed the Red Sea. They have witnessed the power of God in their escape from slavery in Egypt and miraculous parting of the waters. As the waters come back down and cover their Egyptian captors, the Israelites are so moved by joy and relief at their newfound freedom that they begin to sing and dance. In heaven, the angels wish to join in their celebration. God says, “My creations are drowning in the sea and you wish to sing?”

We like to paint Judas as this one-dimensional character, but in reality, he was a multifaceted human being. Maybe the reason why I feel so badly for Judas is because I see myself in him. I, like Judas, have betrayed Jesus, in thought, word, and deed. It follows, then, that, I, like Judas, deserve death. 

But the story doesn’t end there. Tomorrow begins the Tridduum, the 3 Holy Days where we commemorate Christ’s passion and his glorious resurrection. Even though we had erred and strayed from God like lost sheep, Jesus gave his life for us so that we could live. I believe that God’s love extended to Judas, too. Apparently, I’m not the only one; there are several stories and poems about what happened after Judas died. I’ll read you the shorter one called The Judas Tree by D. Ruth Etchells. 

In Hell there grew a Judas Tree

Where Judas hanged and died,

Because he could not bear to see

His master crucified.

Our Lord descended into Hell

And found his Judas there,

For ever hanging on the tree

Grown from his own despair.

So Jesus cut his Judas down

And took him in his arms.

"It was for this I came,” he said,

"And not to do you harm.

My Father gave me twelve good men

And all of them I kept,

Though one betrayed and one denied,

Some fled and others slept.

In three days' time I must return

To make the others glad,

But first I had to come to Hell

And share the death you had.

My tree will grow in place of yours;

Its roots lie here, as well.

There is no final victory

Without this soul from Hell.”

So when we all condemned him

As of every traitor worst,

Remember that of all his men

Our Lord forgave him first.

As we move deeper into Holy Week, I encourage you to reflect on God’s mercy and forgiveness, and the extraordinary lengths God goes to show love for all of God’s creations.

The icon of "The Betrayal of Judas" in Haas Hall at St. Thomas'

we wish to see Jesus

St. Thomas’ Whitemarsh

Lent 5, Year B, 2015

The summer before I began seminary my friend Laura and I planned a grand adventure. Since I was moving from Nebraska back to the east coast, we decided to take advantage of our (relative) proximity and check out some of the beautiful national parks the southwest has to offer. Laura hadn't ever been to the Grand Canyon, and the only time I’d been I was a baby, so we decided to travel there and to Mesa Verde. We loaded up our rental car with camping equipment and food and made our way. 

It took us two days to get from Omaha to the park. Getting there was half the fun: along the way we amused ourselves by reading Harry Potter out loud to each other, taking a million pictures, and stopping at random tourist attractions—how can you pass up a sign for dinosaur tracks? As the scenery changed from dancing cornfields to towering, snow-capped mountains to jutting rocks and arches to painted deserts, the anticipation built. Listening to Holtz’s “The Planets” somehow made the journey seem even more epic. 

On the road we used to enter the park, the canyon was somewhat hidden. We could see gaps in the land where the ravines were carved out, but they didn't seem very impressive or grand at all. Then we turned a corner and there it was. It was absolutely magnificent!

We spent two nights camping in the Canyon, so we were able to have a small taste of its grandness. We soaked in two sunsets and a golden full moon rising over the canyon. We woke up at 3:45 to see the sunrise breathe life into the the canyon’s walls, previously muted by the darkness of night. We saw lots of wildlife, including the endangered California Condor whose wingspan can reach 9 feet. I also heard an animal prowling and sniffing outside my tent right next to my head the first night—most likely it was an elk, but I’m convinced it was one of the two local mountain lions. We spent a day hiking up and down a steep trail into the canyon and I think it wasn't until we got down a little ways and saw how little ground we had covered and how many, many miles were left until we reached the bottom that I realized just how small I was in comparison to my surroundings, or in comparison to the world or the universe. 

It is one thing to hear about or see pictures of a place. It is another thing entirely to experience it in person.

Today's Gospel account takes place during the week of Passover. Jerusalem, the city of David, hosts a huge Passover celebration every year, and so people from all around the world journey there to participate in the festivities. Jesus has just entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey, cheered on by throngs of people waving palms and shouting “Hosannah!” to the man they call the “King of Israel” (John 12:13). Jesus is a local celebrity; people from all over have heard of his teaching and healing. It should come as no surprise, then, that some Greeks walk up to one of Jesus’ disciples and make this request: “Sir, we wish to see Jesus” (v. 21). They want to see for themselves—to lay eyes on—this man who has turned their world upside down. But it is more than that; they don’t just want to shake hands or take a selfie with this superstar. 

The word used for ‘see’ does not just mean ‘to lay eyes upon’; it can also be translated as experience. They are really asking Phillip, “Sir, we wish to experience Jesus.” They want to hear him bring scripture to life. They want to witness his miraculous healing. They want to know and understand and believe for themselves. 

It is one thing to hear about or see pictures of someone. It is another thing entirely to experience them in person.

Most likely you and I will never see Jesus with our own eyes on this earth. But I think it’s safe to say that everyone gathered here is either seeking or has had an experience of Jesus in their lives. Most of us are able to experience God in creation, whether its beauty or its vastness or its sheer power. Some have profound, life-altering experiences of Jesus in their first taste of bread and wine on their lips. Some experience Jesus when gathered around a dying loved one, sharing stories and singing familiar hymns. And some experience Jesus through their family members, friends, or co-workers. 

This week I invite you to think about how you have experienced Jesus in your life. What started you on this journey? Who have been your guides along the way? How has your life helped others to experience Jesus? 

I can stand up here until I’m blue in the face and tell you details about the life of a first century Jew. I can tell you about how he worshiped and what he taught and what miracles he performed. But in the end, what people are looking for—what I am looking for—is not simply factual accounts of a great moral teacher. What we are looking for are experiences of the risen Christ. May we be blessed with experiences of Jesus that are grander than anything we can ask or imagine. 

On top of the world!

The Grand Canyon living up to its name

golden sunrise over the canyon walls

California Condor flying over the canyon

I wasn't kidding about the mountain lions!

looks kind of like a senior portrait

dinosaur tracks!

venom in our lives

St. Thomas' Church, Whitemarsh

Lent 4, Year B, 2015

“ ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him’ ” (John 3:16-17). Amen.

One of my colleagues jokingly named today “Snake Sunday,” and it’s not hard to see why. In Numbers we find large numbers of the Israelites bitten by “poisonous serpents”, the remedy of which is to stare at a bronze serpent on a pole (Nu 21:6, 9). And Jesus makes a reference to the same bronze serpent when he is speaking with the Jewish leader Nicodemus (John 3:14). 

Throughout the Bible, there are examples of snakes. There’s the serpent in the Garden of Eden who convinces Eve (and then Adam) to eat fruit from the forbidden tree (Genesis 3). Then there’s the snake that Moses’ brother Aaron turns his walking stick into to demonstrate his power to Pharaoh and attempt to convince Pharaoh to let his people go (Exodus 7:10-12). And both Jesus and John the Baptist try to grab peoples’ attention by calling them snakes or a “brood of vipers” (Matt 3:7;12:34; 23:33 and Luke 3:7). 

Snakes are not most people’s favorite creatures, and they feature prominently in movies because of the visceral reaction so many of us (me included) have to them. Think Anaconda and its various sequels. Or Snakes on a Plane. Even Indiana Jones freaks out when he lands in a pit of snakes in Raiders of the Lost Ark. And don’t forget all of the snakes in the Harry Potter series. 

We have this morbid fascination with snakes, and it’s no wonder; they’re terrifying! Just google what one drop of venom does to a small container of blood. On second thought…don’t. 

Ok, back to the story of the Israelites. They’ve been traveling for a while now in the wilderness, and they’re tired. Tired of the endless walking, tired of the scenery, tired of eating the same darn food every. single. day. They’ve had enough, and they don’t keep quiet about it. When they speak against God and Moses, it doesn’t mean that they just mutter or even complain loudly; it means that they become hostile. The passage says the Israelites become impatient, but it can also be translated as greatly discouraged; they have lost their confidence in Moses and in God, and as a result, they lash out.  

Yes, life has been rough in the wilderness, but that does not mean that God has abandoned them. Every step of the way, God has been with God’s people. God hears their crying in Egypt and brings them out of slavery. When the Egyptians follow them to the Red Sea, God protects them by parting the water for them and drowning their enemy. When the Israelites become thirsty, God provides them with water. When they run out of food, God sends down manna. When they complain that they don’t have any meat, God sends them quails (Exodus 16). [If you have ever tried to feed picky eaters, I’m sure you can relate to God’s frustration in this passage.]

What follows, while extreme, is a classic case of the punishment fitting the crime: the venom in the Israelites’ attitude is reflected in the serpents’ poison. And the only way for them to be healed is to look precisely at what poisoned them.  

I don’t know about you, but my heart goes out to the Israelites in this passage. I’d like to think it’s because I can relate to their frustration, but I have a sneaking suspicion it’s more because I see myself in their shoes. If we’re honest with ourselves, we have experienced venom in our lives. We experience it within ourselves: jealousy, greed, disrespect, self-absorption (whether vanity or self-consciousness). And we experience venom in our world: corruption, poverty, racism, violence. In the past few weeks we have seen the slaying of a well-known Russian opposition leader, two officers shot in Ferguson, the scandal with the fraternity at Oklahoma University, and the killing of Officer Robert Wilson III, just half an hour from here.

Maybe why I’m so nervous about identifying with the Israelites in the story is that I am afraid of what that says about who I am and how I relate to God. Maybe you feel that way, too. We sneer at or are constantly dissatisfied with or question the value of the gifts we have been given by God. 

Rather than constantly looking over our shoulders for snakes, however, remember that the story doesn’t end with punishment. When the snakes descend, the Israelites return to Moses, repent of their sins, and ask Moses to pray for them. God responds by giving Moses the antidote to the snake bites. 

Note that having an antidote doesn't mean that no one is ever bitten again. In the same way, we can't protect ourselves or loved ones from experiencing venom within ourselves or from others. The antidote is not a permanent fix; and yet, it never runs out; God has a never-ending supply of healing and forgiveness. We constantly stray, but God is always ready to welcome us back.

There are many times when I wonder why God doesn’t just wave God’s hand and restore all creation to its original glory. There is so much suffering in the world, and it’s easy to feel like God is either causing our pain or is too far removed from us to care, at least not enough to do anything about it. As a character in The Princess Bride quips, “Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

But the passage from John’s Gospel reminds us that the story does not end with pain and death but with healing and life. "Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14-15). God does care about us. In fact, God cares so much that God took human form and experienced life from our point of view. God, in Jesus, walked the path of humanity with us and suffered on the cross for us. And just as lifting up the snake healed the Israelites from the snakes’ poison, so did and does Jesus’ being lifted up on the cross heal us from the venom in our lives. 

God is calling us in this Lenten season to reflect on and repent of the venom in our lives. What is keeping us from respecting ourselves and our neighbors? Where is our discouragement preventing us from connecting with God on a deeper level? What steps can we take to repair these relationships? 

When we look at, name, and own the venom in our lives, the things that poison us, we are finally open to receiving God’s forgiveness. Let us take courage in that we worship a God whose final word is one of abundant mercy and unconditional love. “ ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him’ ” (John 3:16-17).

repent and believe

St. Thomas’, Whitemarsh

Lent 1, Year B, 2015

May the words I speak and the words you hear be God’s alone. Amen.

We find ourselves today revisiting Jesus’ baptism by his cousin John the Baptist, followed by Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. In Luke’s version Jesus is led by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness, just as one would lead or guide an animal (Luke 4:1). In Matthew’s version the word for the Holy Spirit’s action conjures up the image of a ship setting sail, as if the Holy Spirit calmly launches Jesus into his mission (Matt 4:1). Not so in Mark’s Gospel; the Holy Spirit is much more aggressive. Jesus is “driven out”, chased by the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:12). The exact translation is that Jesus is led “forth…with a force which he cannot resist” (Thayer’s Greek Lexicon). 

What happens in Jesus’ wilderness adventure? Matthew and Luke describe in great detail the interesting exchange between Jesus and the devil (Matt 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13). Mark’s Gospel, however, doesn't linger very long on most events in Jesus’ life, and this encounter is no exception. All we know is that for 40 days Jesus is in the wilderness tempted by Satan, in the company of wild beasts and served by angels (Mark 1:13). 

Why is Mark silent on the triumph of Jesus over Satan? In the other gospels we see clearly Jesus’ cleverness, knowledge of Scripture, and obedience, but Mark barely even mentions what happens! You would think that this story would be encouraging, especially to early Christians who are being persecuted for their faith. Maybe why we don't have much information on Jesus’ temptation is because Mark is emphasizing Jesus’ humility. Mark's Jesus doesn't overplay the part. What happens with Satan is between Jesus and God; we don’t need to know what kinds of things tempt Jesus. 

Last year I showed a video to my youth group that illustrated Jesus’ temptation, and the artist had an interesting interpretation of Satan. Instead of drawing the typical red guy with a pitchfork, Satan looks just like Jesus. The artist is suggesting that instead of being tempted by another being, Jesus is facing his inner fears, doubts, and anxiety. Sometimes our inner thoughts can be much fiercer—and meaner—than the people we face in real life.

Whatever actually happens in the wilderness, Jesus returns, seeming to have worked out his mission. And then he begins to broadcast the good news of God, the Gospel, and we hear his words for the first time. Author Richard Owen Roberts notes that “[t]he first word in the Gospel is not love. It is not even grace. The first word of the Gospel is repent.” The first thing Jesus urges us to do in Mark’s Gospel is to repent and only then are we able to believe the good news (Mark 1:15). 

To repent doesn't just mean to mumble we are sorry and then go right back to what we were doing. To repent means that we change our way of thinking and acting. To truly repent means to recognize that we are traveling the wrong way and need to change direction, to reorient ourselves and “return to the Lord” (Joel 2:12).

Our relationship with God has to start with repentance, with acknowledging our need for God. When we repent we take a good look at ourselves and make an honest accounting of where our actions (or inaction) have led us astray and damaged our relationship with God. One of the prayers in the back of the Book of Common Prayer reads, “[w]e thank you…for those disappointments and failures that lead us to acknowledge our dependence on you alone.” (BCP 836). God doesn't need us; we need God. But the incredible thing is that God wants us, desires to be in relationship with us. And when we take a wrong turn and stray off the path, God calls us to return. 

Sin is choosing our will instead of God’s; sin distorts our relationship with God and other people (BCP 848). Some sins are pretty obvious: adultery, murder, greed. Others are more subtle: gossip, rationalization, overworking. When we sin we are taking or avoiding actions that express to God that we think our way of doing things is better.  

Keep in mind that God doesn't expect us to do things perfectly; it’s about doing them intentionally and when we inevitably fail, recognizing how much we need God. This is why we have an entire season devoted to repentance. At the end of these 40 days we will be more aware of our shortcomings and our desperate need for God—and only then will we be able to truly appreciate God’s loving sacrifice in Christ’s death and resurrection. 

The Good News that Jesus comes to proclaim is that for some reason God has chosen to be in relationship with us, and because of God’s unending love and faithfulness—not our own—we have been forgiven and freed from our sin.

God is waiting for us. “The kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (Mark 1:15). 

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Jesus' temptation in the wilderness (Mark 12-13)

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