Desert Spirituality

 We often think of Lent as a special time for deepening our spiritual practice 

         and being more self disciplined about what we know 

                                    is spiritually beneficial for us.

 

The first Sunday of Lent we always get the same Gospel story:

                  Jesus spending forty days in the wilderness, 

                  Jesus facing temptations, or perhaps better translated testing.

 

Let’s look at the Gospel for today.

 

In Mark’s Gospel we get the short version: 

         it only mentions being in the wilderness 40 days

         and being tempted, but Mark does not list the temptations

But this account adds a new bit of information not found in Matthew or Luke:

         “he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”

 

Immediately after his baptism, immediately after the heavens part 

and the Spirit as a dove descends and the voice comes from heaven, 

         immediately after that Jesus then is impelled 

                  with great force by the Spirit 

out into the desert, out into the wilderness.

 

The desert is the place where you might see wildlife, 

                                                      the undomesticated critters,

         and you are away from the tamed environment, the cultivated fields, 

subjugated by the force of human culture.

 

The desert has always been seen as 

                  the place where the environment is outside our control,

but also the place of encounter with God

                  where one could do a clean reset of perspective.

 

The Holy Spirit drives Jesus into the desert

         for retreat time to consolidate his ministry         

                  that is about to commence.

In this location, then, the temptations are significant 

         because of their relationship to ministry.

                  These are not personal temptations 

                           like being tempted to eat chocolates during Lent

                           or the temptation to engage in convenient moral shortcuts.

The temptations Jesus faced in the desert had to do with 

         testing how he would minister.

Temptations, trials, testing

they were a part of the desert experience for Jesus, 

and for us too.

 

Lent provides us with a more stripped down environment at church

         to facilitate a clean reset in our outlook on life,

                                             our perspective.

 

There are always some temptations that come up for any congregation 

         and, I would speculate, St. Andrew’s is no exception.

You might contemplate what the temptations are here for St. Andrew’s.

 

Temptation, defined biblically, means being put to the test.

         What puts you to the test here?

                           … individually and as a faith community?

I give you that question to ponder.

 

The temptations were a test for Jesus in the wilderness,

         and so are the temptations we face – tests.

They are our teachers there to test us regarding our humility,

                  to test if we get it about our dependence on God’s grace,

         and also a reminder that we are to love one another as we love ourselves,

or to put it another way, 

         to have love for ourselves, warts and all,

                  so that we can more faithfully love one another, 

                                    with their warts and all.

 

So Mark’s Gospel, 

the shortest and most concise and efficient in wording of the gospels,

         simply comments that Jesus was tested,

but adds that he was with the wild beasts and the angels waited on him.

“…with the wild beasts…”

         He was not in the cultural setting of the city or the nation 

                  or even his religion.

         He was in the primary environment of creation, nature, untamed,

                  as God created it.

         This was the setting for the Gospel, the good news, 

                the teaching he would bring,

         and that teaching would undercut the religious culture of his time.

This has profound implications,

         because the Gospel, the message and meaning of Jesus,

                  his life, his death, his resurrection

         would go beyond his own religious tradition,

and it will not be limited to the institutional structure of any denomination

         that tags itself as Christian.

  

Jesus, the Eternal Christ, was and is always way beyond that,

                  much more expansive and  universal,

and our worship is a pale reflection of his spiritual presence in the world.

 

Jesus was out in the desert with the wild beasts “…and with the angels…”

         This primary environment of creation included all things created,

                  seen and unseen, as we say in the creed, visible and invisible.

with angels attending, like in Luke’s Gospel at his birth,

         ministering to him with the same great interest and investment,

                  as Jesus, so to speak, gave birth to his ministry,

                  his time of preparation complete now.

And the angels returning as he prayed in the garden of Gethsemane.

 

And Jesus would emerge from the desert walking in the will of the Father,

         in full union with the Father and in harmony with all the created order

         and all the created order would serve him.

                  Fish would swim into the net at his word, when he told 

                           the fishermen to cast the net over the other side of the boat.

                  Water would support his walking on it.

                  Bread would expand to feed thousands.

                  Bodies would heal.

                  Eyes that had never seen would be completed in their creation

                           so that they could fulfill their function of vision.

 

Mark is saying (one could read between the lines),

         “Look out, world.  Here comes Jesus, 

                  and he’s going to blow you away.”

 

The desert is the place away from the domesticated environment; 

                  it is the place where the environment is outside our control,

it is the place of encounter with God.

 

And so, the desert is often the place where the best spiritual work is done.

Lent is a form of spiritual desert, 

a season of time provided for us 

to set things up for encounter with God.

It is good to be driven by the Spirit into such a conducive environment 

for awakening to God at work within us.

 

This is the most important point to note:

         it is the Spirit of Jesus who is at work within us.

Take courage, disciples here at St. Andrew’s. 

Your Lord, your Savior is with you.

         Make good use of this season of Lent.

Quickly I will highlight:

         the Lent series after the service this morning,

         and there’s Morning Prayer Monday through Friday, for prayer,

         a Thursday evening book study,

         and a Wednesday morning Bible study, for life long learning,

and you could look at expanding almsgiving,

and what you might fast from – it doesn’t have to be food.

         You could fast from complaining or from beating up on yourself.

 

Go for it.  Let yourself be put to the test this Lent.

    That would be one of the best things 

            you could do for yourself spiritually.

 

So as the exhortation from  Ash Wednesday states, 

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, 

to the observance of a holy Lent. 

Transfiguration

This is the last Sunday in the Epiphany season,

                  and it’s always the same Gospel reading:

the story of the Transfiguration paralleled in Matthew, Mark and Luke.

  

The Transfiguration, we can say, is the ultimate expression

         of what the word Epiphany means:

Epiphany meaning manifestation – the revelation of God through Jesus.

Epiphany is the season of light:

                  Jesus is the Light of the world.

From starlight leading gentile wise men to Bethlehem

         to the heavens parting at the baptism

                  and God’s voice declaring, 

                           “This is my Son, the Beloved, listen to him,”

         through each Sunday in Epiphany with a representative story

                  about the Kingdom of God revealed and manifested in Jesus,

         finally to this event of glory and radiance 

                  with the dead raised and standing and talking with Jesus.

 

I love preaching on the Transfiguration.

It is one of my favorite stories.

It’s one of my favorite stories because 

         there are so many different directions one can go in exploring it.

 

Now some of you may know that I teach meditation 

         and lead meditation groups.

Meditation has been a main spiritual practice for me for nearly 30 years.

Meditation is very practical;

         besides the usually touted benefits of relaxation and stress relief,

it’s about self-awareness – coming to see – 

         how I respond to life situations and relationships.

It’s about becoming more aware of my reactivity and my response-ability.

It’s about the veil being lifted and seeing the truth and telling the truth,

         and when that happens 

                  you can’t go back to ignorance about yourself,

                  so you can no longer be the way you were before.

 

Meditation is transformative.

That is what I have found.

This is one way we can be “changed into his likeness from glory to glory”

         as the collect for the day puts it  --  how to become more like Jesus.

 

But transformation is not a self-improvement project;

         actually it’s a process of self-forgetting.

Because transformation is not my work 

but the healing work of God’s mercy and love 

moving in the individual.

 

Hence in meditation it is important to cease doing,

         to sit still and awake and aware in utmost trust,

         breaking through the illusion of who’s really in control

                  and who am I.

 

But transformation, you might see, is a different spiritual process 

         than transfiguration.

 

Look at the Gospel account of transfiguration:

Jesus transfigures and begins radiating intense, bright light,

         and who shows up?  Moses and Elijah,

                  the two key figures representing all the Law and the Prophets,

                  figures who represent a full revelation of God 

                                    and of God’s relationship with humankind.

One can only imagine what sort of incredible conversation is going on 

         between Jesus and these extraordinary personages.

Then Peter bursts into the conversation, interrupting,

         and what does Peter say?

“Rabbi, it is good for us to be here.  Let’s make 3 dwellings.”

Let’s enshrine this extraordinary event.

Let’s contain it and preserve it, capture and cage it.

 

The point is 

Peter is pulling back from this stupendous display of Light and glory,

         this revelation of Divine Presence

                  that outstrips all that Peter had previously considered Jesus to be.

It’s too much and he can’t bear it going any further.

 

This is so typical, and we all do this – 

         to pull back in our experiences of the Divine, to put limits on it;

         self-contraction in the presence of such huge expansiveness of Being.

Even when we intend not to,

         the fear of the loss of self into the immenseness of the Divine is so great.

Truly, you cannot see the Face of God and live. 

         (as you had been living it so full of yourself)

 

But this Epiphany continues to expand.

Now a cloud engulfs them - 

         a cloud that connects to the stories of old from the sacred texts,

         the cloud that led the Children of Israel through the Sinai desert,                            the cloud that engulfed the Tent of Meeting,

                  the cloud that, in Isaiah 6, engulfed the Temple of Solomon.

 

And the Voice that speaks from the cloud says, 

         “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 

The Word of God from the 1^st Sunday in Epiphany 

                           at the baptism of our Lord in the Jordan

                  is repeated on this last Sunday in Epiphany:

         “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”  Hear him!

 

At the heart of the Jewish faith is the Shema:

Deut. 6:4 Hear [listen], O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is One.

Deut. 6:5 You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart,

and with all your soul, and with all your might.

 

This is what is written on the door posts and placed in the phylacteries

         and recited daily.

 

And now

         in the words spoken by the Divine Voice, the Voice of the Creator,

there has been a colossal appropriation of biblical history made here,

shifting from Moses and the Shema to Jesus.

 

Jesus is much more than Rabbi or Teacher,

         not containable by any of the known titles we give him

                  out of our limited experience of him.

 

The Transfigured Jesus is an ultimate Epiphany of Divine Presence, 

         and, we could say, if God were to fully self-manifest,

if you see God face to face, you die,

                  your separate self-identity evaporates.

 

One can see this as true when we examine what happens in meditation:

         when awareness expands in meditation, 

         it can be like a revelation of God in that the self disappears.

The idea of an identified and distinct self disappears.

 

Now we should note, however,

         that Transfiguration is not unique to Jesus

There is the story about Moses and his face shining 

         when he comes down from Mount Sinai 

                                             after being face to face with God.

Elisha witnessed Elijah carried off in a sudden flash of radiance

         that Elisha could only describe as a fiery, speeding chariot.

 

Part of the spiritual tradition of the Eastern Orthodox Church 

         is the Prayer of the Heart, or the Jesus Prayer,

         in which tradition, transfiguration was known.

 

There are stories of this from the Desert Fathers.

Then there is St. Seraphim of Sarov

[b. July 19, 1759, Kursk, Russia – d. January 2, 1833]

We have a verifiable eye-witness account of his transfiguration.

 

That was an example of sharing in the inheritance of the saints in Light – Col. 1:12

or 1 Thess. 5:5 that says that, “We are the children of Light.”

and in Eph. 5:8 we are told to walk as children of Light – 

Some, a very few, like St. Seraphim of Sarov, 

                  have actually walked as children of Light.

 

Well, very few of us – none that I have encountered –

         radiate Transfiguration Light.

I haven’t seen anyone literally “aglow with the Spirit” in that way.

 

Although some radiate to those around them such love or aliveness or joy 

         that this can be perceived and recognized as extraordinary,

                  imparting spiritual light.

Some, very few,

         because when we encounter this in anyone, it is quite unforgettable.

 

We have not lived up to our inheritance of the saints in Light.

We have not so emulated Jesus in our lives

         that we also radiate Source Light manifesting the Divine to others.

But, and this may be of some relief,

         transfiguration is different from transformation.

 

The One who appeared transfigured in the energy of brilliant Light,

         is the One whose revealing presence brings transformation 

                                             to those who turn to him and follow him.

 

We prayed in the collect for today that 

         “we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, 

         may be strengthened to bear our cross, 

                  and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory.”

 

Lent starts on Wednesday.

Lent is a good time to draw near to God,

         to be more willing to have Divine Presence revealed,

         to let Jesus touch and heal our lives,

                  transform us and change us,

         so that we may, at the last, be able to behold his glory,

                  to look into the radiance of transfiguration Light,

                           Source Light, Divine Light,

         and be blown away in the best possible sense,

and be changed into his likeness,…

                                                                        …be changed. 

Close Encounters

 Looking at the Gospel reading for today (Mark 1:21-28),

       it’s one that may be off putting, raise questions 

              or simply be dismissed as arcane –

       demon possession?  really?

But it needs to be addressed,

       and don’t you want to know how this passage might relate to us?

 

But before I can open the Gospel for you,

       we have to start with the passage from Deuteronomy.

 

This Deuteronomy lesson for today is about making sure 

       that there will be a prophet 

              who can bring the revelation of God to the people,

              but also someone who will stand between God and them.

Quoting from the passage:

This is what you requested of the Lord your God at Horeb 

on the day of the assembly when you said: 

“If I hear the voice of the Lord my God any more, 

or ever again see this great fire, I will die.”

The revelation at Mt. Sinai was like the whole mountain was ablaze

       and God’s voice was like rolling thunder.

The people were afraid of getting too close to God.  

                     God is too risky.

 

So the prophet standing between the people and God

       could mediate the risk and could deliver the words 

                                   but one step removed from direct contact.

Such is the typical human response 

                     whenever we have an encounter with God.

God is so far beyond us, so much bigger, so much more powerful

       Omniscient, almighty, omnipresent, eternal, transcendent.

Before God we are exposed, so fully known that we are frightened

       because we know that the thoughts of our hearts 

              are not all sweetness and light,

              not fully loving, 

              mixed with jealousy, anger, covetousness, striving…

                     shall I go on?

If there wasn’t a Moses or a prophet standing between us and God,

       we would faint in sheer terror.

So the human tendency is to find something to be a protective barrier, 

       a shield between week human flesh and the Divine Presence.

For Moses and the Children of Israel 

       it was to build the Tent of Meeting,

       the Tabernacle to hold the Ark of the Covenant 

                  containing the stone tablets with the Torah, 

              the Law carved into them by God’s own finger. 

As the decades and centuries passed,

       the Tent of Meeting was replaced with the Temple in Jerusalem.

As one entered the Temple complex 

       one went from one holy area, the Court of the Gentiles,

              encircling an even holier space where only Jews could enter

and this space in turn encircled the holy Temple 

       where only the men could enter

and housed within this space was the Holy of Holies

                            where only the High Priest could enter.

Do you get the picture?       The way the religion was practiced

       ensured a safe distance between oneself and God 

                            through architecture.

 

This is a familiar pattern in all religions, our own included.

 

We design the church building with space between 

                     the people and the altar,

       and we put a fence around the altar.

I remember well as a child being told 

              that I dare not go beyond the altar rail,

for only the priest and the acolyte and the altar guild could go there.

 

Amazing as it may sound,  

       how we do church can be a barrier 

              between the soul hungry for God

              and an encounter with the Holy.

 

So Jesus and his newly minted disciples 

       - Peter and Andrew, James and John - 

                                   (from last Sunday’s reading)

              went to Capernaum 

and as it was the Sabbath they went to the synagogue.

 

And Jesus taught in the synagogue,

       and the text says that the people were astonished.

Well, the Greek word here was significantly stronger.

       They were astounded, amazed, overwhelmed –

              and specifically overwhelmed with fright.

It is a word that literally means they were struck out of their wits.

 

If Jesus were the prophet that Moses said 

       God would raise up from among them, 

then this prophet was no barrier standing between them and God.

       This prophet was in effect removing the veil of the Temple 

              that separated the Holy of Holies from before them.

 

So they were talking among themselves about the way Jesus taught,

       that he had an authority of his own,

              not like the attributed authority of the scribes 

              that came from their study and their scholarly credentials,

but an authority that exuded from him 

                                   and his obvious integrity of being.

 

Now one person in that synagogue, one of the regular “church goers,”

              a member of the congregation,

       is suddenly yelling at the top of his lungs,

              “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? 

              Have you come to destroy us? 

              I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” 

This man, unrestrained by the social niceties and norms,

       is saying aloud 

              what is in the dark recesses of every human heart – 

                     the terror of direct encounter with God.

So Jesus liberates this man from that spirit of terror,

                     that sees its destruction in the presence of the God.

It must have been quite a scene.         Imagine the gossip afterwards.

 

Here they all were, coming to synagogue week after week,

       and then Jesus shows up and the Kingdom of God has come near,

and their old, familiar, next door neighbor sitting with them in church

       explodes in a screaming fit 

                     because Jesus isn’t talking like the rabbis;

              Jesus is bringing God much too close for comfort.

And Jesus handles it all with such authority

              that their fellow parishioner,

       whom they probably never would have suspected 

       as possessed by the devil,                   

                                          is relieved of his demon by a word.

The people of Capernaum are amazed.

And again that’s another Greek word here 

that means more than simply amazed.

       Again, they were astonished, awestruck, and, yes, terrified.

A new teaching – this time not a teaching of words, 

       rather a teaching that flowed out Jesus, out of his very self,

not from the tradition and lineage of the scribes and rabbis,

       but a teaching that removed barriers, 

a teaching that brought them face to face with God.

 

So what is the lesson for us here today?

What are the barriers between us and an encounter with God?

We may even have to ask ourselves,

       what is there in the way I carry out my religion

              that is actually a protective curtain between me and God

       so that I don’t feel so naked and exposed            and so fearful?

 

Jesus was not someone people could feel neutral around.

       And if we are not reacting one way or another about him now,

              we need to check what veil we have put up.

 

       My spiritual director once said,

“We don’t know the extent of our own demons until Jesus shows up.

       Then you know that the love is there in both of you,

       but in Jesus it is free flowing, and in you it is all bound up.”

 

One thing I do know with all my being,

       I know what it is to have that encounter with God

              deeply personal, yet also beyond personal,

to realize that I am totally known through and through, nothing hidden,

       and at the same time to realize 

                            that I am totally loved through and through.

 

This is the Epiphany moment – being known

                                   and being loved in spite of what is known.

This is the Light event for this Sunday in the Epiphany season.

This Light requires of us a willingness to look directly at that Light.

This Light requires us to face and move into our fears,

       for if we don’t, that slows up this whole healing and reconciliation

                     that this Light would bring us.

 

Let Jesus, the prophet standing between us and transcendent divinity,

       cast out the demons hidden in the dark recesses of our hearts.

Let yourself be known to God,

       and know that in spite of yourself, 

                                   you are most profoundly loved.