Rainbows and Promises

Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan: Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen

Genesis 9:8-17, Psalm 25, I Peter 3:18-22, Mark 1:9-13

At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. As Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” At once the Spirit sent him out into the desert, and he was in the desert forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him.

The storm was over! Just imagine what it must have been like for Noah and his family. This past week we have has seen some turbulent weather here in Sacramento. We have experienced torrential rains, loud startling thunder claps and of course the accompanying lightning bolts. Add to that the howling winds that caused tree limbs to break and even in some places the stinging, hard-hitting hail stones. In the nearby mountains, some of you may have even been caught in winter strength snow storms. We have experienced some powerful weather. That the days were interspersed with clear bright blue skies and fluffy clouds floating lazily above, only seemed to punctuate the strength of those stormy hours.

 

But just imagine what it was like for Noah and his family – they must have been terrified – even with the assurances from God that the entire family would be saved. That storm raged for 40 days. That cloudburst, we are told, produced enough rain to cover all the open ground. How small they must have felt in that ark as the torrential storm rocked and shook their fragile vessel – the only people alive anywhere that they looked. “What is going to happen to us? How did things come to be so out of control?” That would certainly be an understandable human point of view.

But let’s imagine the story from God’s point of view. If we go all the way back to the creation story, we notice that at the end of each day God looked at what had been made and said, “It is good.” Over and over again, God looked at what had been created on that particular day in the universe and said, “It is good.” When the end of the sixth day arrived, God looked at us humans – the first man and the first woman – the crowning achievement of creation and said, “This is very good!”

Before long, though, things started to go wrong. God had given humans – had given us - the gift of freedom. God has made us free to make the choices to love, to create, to reason, to live in harmony with creation and with God. But early on, and even today, we too often choose to follow the other possibilities that come with that freedom. There is also available to us the freedom to hate, to destroy, to be thoughtless and selfish, and to break away from or ignore our relationship with creation and with God.

By Noah’s time, God, who had seen humanity as the very best act of creation, saw this destructive tendency acted-out over and over again, and was heartbroken. The disappointment was so great, that there seemed to be no way out of all the pain and destruction humans were causing but to wipe the slate clean and start over. From this point of view, the storm which erased that civilization was not an act of anger or vengeance. God was the big loser here because God’s greatest hope, the success of his own precious children had all gone terribly wrong. When the rain started it was as if the tears of God flowed down from heaven. Tears of sadness, tears of disappointment flowed from the very heart of God and filled the earth.  The destruction itself must have been bitter for God – it was an admission of failure of a sort; the best of creation so willful, so self centered, so ungrateful.

That gigantic storm, that destructive flood though served a cleansing purpose. The realization for God was the “unconditional love” felt for us. So when the waters subsided God made a new covenant with Noah. A covenant is a “solemn agreement” or a “contract” between two parties. People have been making covenants with one another for thousands of years. Covenants usually come with strings attached. “If you pay me tribute, I will protect you.”  “If you keep this law, things will go well for you.”

The covenant God made with Noah was different. It is an unconditional covenant, a covenant of love in which God promises to remember us even if we forget God. The covenant God made with Noah is also made with all humanity. I don’t think that God was not lulled into thinking that this experience of destruction would change humans and that somehow we would always use our freedom to choose rightly. God chose not to destroy despite all we do that is destructive, although we continue too often, to choose hate instead of love, to destroy rather than create, to act thoughtlessly instead of using reason, to break our relationships with others instead of living in harmony. God shows willingness to be heartbroken for us to be all compassionate.

That is where the sign of the rainbow comes in. As a sign of that promise long ago, God hung his bow in the sky. Think of it as his “bow and arrow”. The bow is now not a weapon of anger and destruction, it is not an archer’s bow taut and pointing down on people to threaten and destroy them. It is hung upside down in the sky, unstrung, disarmed, and colorful; pointing away as a reminder.

The Epistle lesson today makes the clear connection between the waters of this flood and God’s new promise to Noah and the water of baptism. “God waited patiently during the building of the ark, in which a few were saved through water. And baptism, which this prefigured, now saves you - not as a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience.” In our baptism, we don’t become perfect but we can become confident of God’s compassion for us. As part of the baptismal rite states, we are marked as Christ’s own forever.

Picture back to that unique baptism, in the background are the rushing waters of the Jordan River bringing life to the fields for crops, refreshing the lakes for the fish. On the banks we see the crowds, anxious but hopeful for a change in their lives. They have come from the towns and villages, away from business as usual, to be cleansed by John the Baptist. There is anticipation in the air – they have all heard of John’s call for repentance, for a change. They probably even whispered among themselves, “He says the Messiah is coming. Can you believe it?”

Many came to be baptized by John, but on this particular day a man came quietly and asked to be baptized. Something was different about him and John at first seemed reluctant to baptize him, but the man insisted. Then something happened. One moment there was the usual background buzz of anticipation, and then – everyone agreed that something happened but it was so quick how could it be described?

“The heavens torn apart?” Impossible – indescribable- powerful.

“A spirit descending?” Something happened – a dove fluttering down – peaceful – fulfilling – indescribable.

“That voice” - it came out of nowhere - authoritative – definitely a voice, definitely a message – indescribable - but I couldn’t quite understand it.

It was a moment in time to be remembered, we still remember it today, but everything happened so quickly. The man was gone, as if led, or was it pushed, away from the river into the wilderness. Before anyone had a chance to react to what was seen, before anyone could ask the man what he had experienced, where he was going, or what it all meant, he disappeared.

Mark tells us, “The Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness.” The gracious little dove was replaced by the full driving power of the wind, the harsh wind that sculpts the giant sand dunes of the desert. Jesus was on his own in the blazing heat of the desert day and lonely, bitter cold of star-filled nights. The wilderness is not a place where anyone went voluntarily, and certainly not alone. It is a place of danger and destruction, and if one had to go into it to go as fast as possible with plenty of dried food and skins of water, in caravans of company. But Jesus was there, alone, with only the wild animals, angels, and temptation.

There are many parallels and contrasts in this short story – the waters of the flood and the waters of baptism

The forty days of Jesus’ temptation, the forty days of Noah’s storm as well as the forty years of the Exodus across the other desert are all echoed in the forty days we today experience as the season of Lent. These stories are an appropriate grouping for us as we shift gears in the church season.

Traditionally, the season of Lent is seen as a time of reflection and preparation for the joyous and triumphant culmination of the Easter celebration. It is a more somber break that leads us toward a thoughtful consideration of our relationship with God. Reflections beginning with the first creation stories – through these earliest stories of destruction and redemption – through the new relationship with God taught and demonstrated by Jesus.

The church mood changes. Here at St. Paul’s you will notice that from today’s service throughout the entire season of Lent that there are be no flower arrangements before the altar. The altar and the crosses are draped in a more somber purple. In our responses and songs we will not be singing the triumphant “Alleluias”. The music will be more subdued. The services will begin with simple chimes instead of the rolling preludes of the organ and the services end more abruptly – absent also will be the swelling organ postludes. All of this is deliberate.

All of this difference is intended to set apart this time in our public worship, much as John’s fiery sermon calls before the baptism of Jesus, to look deeply at our relationships, to appreciate the gifts we have from God. Yes, the Lenten season is uncomfortable and we are asked to personally accept responsibilities, to give up perhaps physical luxuries, and adopt stricter disciplines. Our routines are disrupted by the season, as if to say, don’t get too comfortable where you are, because we each have further to go on our journey. We are called to see this life, this time as something we are passing through. We are not called to claim ownership. We are reminded how easily we can become comfortable with our physical comforts and lose the vision of our spiritual purpose.

The traditions of Lent have evolved to a practice of “giving up” something. The primary purpose of any Lenten practice is to increase our spiritual awareness. Instead of, or addition to this traditional practice, I encourage each of you to try these four practices to balance your life.

First, “keep a clear conscience”. How do you do that? Take a look at your schedule what are your priorities? What do you skip when your schedule gets too full? There is a story of a presidential advisor Bill Gaston who resigned his position after receiving a letter from his 10 year old son. The letter read “Dad, baseball is not fun when no one is there to applaud you.” So Mr. Glaston told the President, “You can replace me, my son can’t. Another political figure, Charles Francis Adams, wrote in his 19th century diary. “Went fishing with my son today – a day wasted.” His son, Brook Adams, also kept a diary, which is still in existence. On that same day, Brook made this entry: “Went fishing with father – the most wonderful day of my life!” Does your schedule reflect truly important priorities?

Second, take a look at your checkbook and look at how you spend your money. Would you be embarrassed to reveal your spending habits to a financial counselor? Would you be proud because your spending reflects your spiritual commitment? A statistic from some years ago showed that American Christians gave over four billion dollars to churches and Christian charities. That statistic is impressive but the study further revealed that these same Christians also spent 34 billion dollars on diet products and another 40 billion dollars on recreation. When your budget gets tight, what gets cut? Jesus said, “Your heart will be where your treasure is.” If you make a financial commitment to God, God, who is faithful, will provide for your needs.

Third, to assess your priorities in life, look at your speech. What do you talk about? When you get really excited and “just need to tell someone” what is it about? Do you see and speak well of others? Jesus also taught, “Out of the over flow of the heart the mouth speaks.” What do others see of your heart from your words?

Fourth, and lastly, assess your priorities in your solitude. What are you like when no one else is around? What do you think about? Are you different when no one is looking? Setting priorities in life is much like buttoning a coat, if we get that first button wrong, all the others line up according to the first misplaced one. In the same way, when the first button is right, all the others line up just where they are supposed to be.

It may be easier to just give up dessert. But the effort to transform ourselves and positively influence the world around us by making room for God in our life is, in fact the original intention of Lent. Making a new start after old failures or turning inner darkness into light requires a journey into our personal wilderness. This is what Lent is meant to be. We shouldn’t try to escape the wilderness but confront it. Even Jesus needed to enter it.

The reward for doing so is a deeper faith, a greater trust and reliance on God as summed up in today’s collect which I repeat:

“Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan: Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through Jesus Christ your Son.

Amen