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GIVING UP SOMETHING FOR LENT II
(Note to the Reader from Advocatus di Aboli: The following represents a different approach to the topic we're exploring. It's a sermon by my friend Snark, and he tells me this is the version he's going to preach on the first Sunday in Lent when he pinch hits for an absent pastor. I must say that I'm glad he's apparently come back to his senses . . . truly that's evidence of a miracle! . . . because he is taking here a much more responsible approach to our topic. -- Advocatus)
Giving Up Something For Lent
Gregory Talipson, a.k.a. "Snark"
February 17, 2013
LECTIONARY TEXTS
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16 (11)
Romans 10:8b-13
Luke 4:1-13
You know how it goes! This year you're going to take Lent really seriously, so you decide to give up both chocolate and coffee. Then, next Sunday when you enter the Welcome Center, you see the display of chocolates and coffee for sale. But you've given all that up, so you start to walk on by . . . only to notice that they're all Fair-Trade items. The proceeds go to Lutheran World Relief. So you think, "Hey! It's for a good cause! Why not?"
But you've vowed to forgo them. Reluctantly, you sit in the pew, immersed in some very creative thinking. Afterwards, you ask Pastor Kern: "Would it be possible next Sunday to eliminate the bread and wine at communion? Could . . . could we instead use chocolate and coffee?" Who knew? The Devil! Right here in church! . . . (Well, of course!)
Temptation. That's the first of three words I want us to consider. Many of us will find a much more significant temptation to give up for the next forty days . . . maybe a habit of procrastinating . . . complaining . . . or excessive eating or drinking. Sometimes we'll find that what we've denied ourselves wasn't really necessary after all. We'll continue to do without what we've given up long after Lent is over. Lent's a great time to give up a bad habit!
Giving up something for Lent points us, spiritually, in a useful direction. But if our observance of the season is over-focused on such acts of self-denial, we might miss its deeper meaning.
Our Gospel text suggests that Lent is all about power . . . how to use power in a God-like way . . . how to resist, each day, the darker, Devilish, temptations to use power otherwise.
Power. That's the second word I want us to think about. From power politics on Capitol Hill to power yoga classes down the street, power makes this area tick. When we are exhausted from exercising our power, some of us may power-up again by reaching for one of the many less-than-healthy "energy drinks": Red Bull, Monster, Full Throttle, Amp and . . . Venom! There's not a wimpy name in the bunch!
Power. The world needs a new narrative about power. Currently, the stories our culture tells itself about power are rapidly leading us . . . our children and grandchildren into a world that is dismally unsustainable: politically, economically, environmentally, and spiritually. This is happening here in our own neighborhoods . . . not just on the global stage.
Power. This gloomy picture won't change unless we have a new narrative . . . a new story about power and its uses. Fortunately, Christianity has one. It is contained within our Lenten story. It begins in the wilderness, where Jesus is tempted to use power in destructive ways . . . and it ends in that different sort of wilderness called Golgotha, where . . . because Jesus chose only God's ways of exercising power . . . the authorities became threatened . . . and they put him to death. As we move through Lent, be sure to look for what our texts reveal about power.
Power. Even though it often has an unsavory reputation . . . do realize that you've got power. . . for power is the ability to make something happen . . . the capacity to affect your destiny. Power is necessary . . . by itself neither good nor bad. But it can be exercised in a variety of ways . . . some of them wonderful . . . others, not so much!
Power comes in all sorts of flavors. We've tasted all of them! And surely we've wrestled with how to exercise them.
Here's a short list of examples:
Physical power: it can be used to enter a dangerous environment in order to rescue persons from peril . . . or to win a power struggle by intentionally damaging an opponent on the gridiron . . . or a family member at home.
Sexual power: (ad libs: Wow! It really got quiet when I said that!) Coupled with the power to really listen, plus the power to take out the trash, sexual power can create and celebrate a committed intimacy . . . or, when conditionally given and withheld, it can become an instrument of control.
Purchasing power: it can bless with food, shelter and education . . . or curse by filling a spiritual emptiness with baubles, bangles . . . bright, shiny beads.
Intellectual and verbal power: it can be used politically to rally the conscience of a nation into heeding the better angels of its nature . . . or, by employing a twisted, paranoid, silver-tongued rhetoric, it can offer salvation through drinking the Kool-Aid® of self-destruction . . . and lead us down the path . . . if not again to Jonestown . . . then surely to yet another Newtown.
Spiritual power: it's what we feel when we gladly linger in the presence of someone who is centered and calm; who accepts and loves us just as we are, warts and all . . . or, it's that power we feel when we've gotten into an elevator with a stranger who makes the hair on the back of our necks stand up . . . and we can hardly wait to make our exit.
Power. You and I are invited to participate in Lent's alternative story about power by following the example Jesus set in the wilderness.
We are urged to reject the three ways of using power with which the Devil tempts Jesus . . . and us alike. Listen for those three ways . . . as well as for what they have all have in common . . . as we revisit the Gospel narrative.
(As Snark puts crumpled wax paper sheets and, a napkin on the pulpit, he says:)
I've succumbed to the temptation to use a contemporary translation.
(Snark pulls hood of robe up over his head, and noisily places on the pulpit a covered 7-11 Double Big Gulp containing ice and some water with a straw in it. Now in character as the Devil, he ostentatiously slurps the drink, and sighs with satisfaction)
"Ummm, ummm! That was a good lunch! But I hate how bright it is out here in the wilderness! Give me a shady green lawn in suburbia any day!"
(Putting on his sunglasses, he crumples a sandwich wrapper, which he "litterbugs" in a hook shot toward the acolyte and assisting minister. He pretends it's gone through the basketball hoop.)
"Yesss! Nothing but net!"
(He crumples another sandwich wrapper, finds someone in the front row and shoots the ball to him.)
"Three points! Um, um, um!"
(The Devil slurps his drink again and noisily moves the straw up and down through the plastic lid. Glancing down to foot of the cross, he says to the congregation:)
"Well, look at him on his Serta Perfect Sleeper of rocks . . . down there . . . under that tree with no leaves (gesturing to the cross. Then, in the direction of Jesus, he continues.) Psst! Jesus! . . . No, silly! Up here! . . . Hi ya! . . . Who, me? Oh, I'm just someone who admires you, Jesus. I've been watching you for a long time. But none of this is about me, Jesus . . . it's all about you. Here you are at a turning point in your life . . . trying to figure out what to do. I'm just here to help.
(Again, the Devil takes a loud slurp.)
"I notice you've been going without food for a long time out here in this God-forsaken place. How's that fasting thing working for you, Jesus? Tell you what . . . make that Son of God thing work for you . . . change any of these stones into bread . . . and while you're at it, turn some of the water in that spring up there (pointing toward the altar) into a nice Chianti . . . We can commune together.
(The Devil noisily slurps again.)
"No? Well aren't you the goody two-shoes! If I didn't know better, I'd swear you're one of those Methodists trying to go on to perfection!
"But no matter, Jesus. C'mon up here with me . . . . Sure, there's room for both of us up here . . . there's always room for us both us up here! Look . . . way down there . . . the people . . . they're so small . . . they look like . . . Lutherans!
"Jesus, I know you got transfigured on that other mountain last week. But here on this one, let me show you a real spiritual experience. Look out there . . . even further than you can see . . . it's all mine! As any fool who reads The Washington Post knows . . . I rule it all.
"But, you know, Jesus . . . I'm getting old. Gonna retire soon. I'm looking for someone to take over the family business . . . thought maybe you'd like it. You're a natural. You can have your way with everyone. These nice folks won't have to pray endlessly for the coming of your Kingdom . . . it can be here today! But to be worthy of it, you've got to knock off your quaint, unhealthy obsession with God. Kindly direct your attention to me, instead. After all, who loves ya, Baby!
(The Devil shakes his head in disgust and slurps on his drink.)
"I swear you're light-headed from lack of food to refuse that offer, Jesus! But I'm patient. Here's a suggestion: you really don't have to take such a hard path, you know . . . it'll be so painful . . . maybe even fatal. Instead, work a little magic! Impress the crowds! Do something to get their attention! Let 'em see you jump off the cliff here. God'll help you pull it off, 'cause you're his Messiah. After all, he promised as much to every Joe and Jane Hebrew, saying his angels would hold them up.
"Really! You're the one quoting scripture back at me. Go look it up! It's in . . . um . . . Psalm 91 . . . if my memory serves me!
(Devil takes one last slurp and then sneers:)
"No? Well, I'm a patient guy. I guess you don't want to play with me, so let me leave you with this thought: Jesus, you only go around once! Grab for the gusto! . . . Go big, Jesus . . . or go home! See ya later."
(Snark removes his dark glasses, hood and places cup under pulpit and ad libs: Wow! That was frightening! It's scary how easy it is to be the Devil!)
It seems to me that the real evil in all the Devil's temptations is this: he would have us become smaller than we really are by convincing us that it's all about us . . . that who we are is simply and solely defined by our ego. Accordingly, he directs all of his temptations there.
Of course, we need a good, strong ego in order to find ways to meet our survival needs . . . food, shelter, and safety.
But the ego has a problem. Just like the old cartoon character, Mr. McGoo, it's exceedingly near-sighted. You could say that the ego has an "I" problem. By itself, the ego cannot see the other person with their own cares and needs. The ego takes only a short-term view, looking solely at its own bottom line.
I think it's as though the Devil, just like a bully on the school playground, maneuvers us into a small, cramped space where we're cut off from our allies.
That's why the Devil tempts our egos: it's so we become locked up within the narrow confines of our own, near-sighted self-interest. But, when that happens, we actually begin to lose our power.
Consider that for a moment. Did you ever notice how, when you became very self-involved, you began to focus increasingly on how you're doing . . . with whether you're safe enough . . . rich enough . . . pretty enough . . . important enough . . . worthy enough . . . .
Maybe you began to feel anxious . . . concerned . . . edgy. On your climb to the top, do you sometimes worry about falling off the mountain? Exhausting, isn't it!
Paradoxically, by pumping up our egos, we actually let the air out of our lives. We run out of power very quickly . . . and no energy drink in the world can restore it!
God, on the other hand, wants us to live large . . . to have genuine power . . . to inhabit more fully the other part of who we already are . . . the part of you and me that is created in God's . . . own . . . image. That's the part down inside of us where God lives.
It's who we most fundamentally are . . . as though it's woven within the double helix of our DNA.
Our larger, God-Self isn't near-sighted like the ego. Its capacity to see is wide and far-reaching. It's the part of us that can genuinely care for someone else. Even strangers. Even enemies! When we inhabit this part of who we already are, we begin to share in God's power . . . just like Jesus.
Again, consider your own experience: the more your concern goes beyond your own self . . . as it moves out toward others . . . the more you begin to feel really, really good . . . a warm expansiveness grows inside your chest . . . oddly, you feel relaxed . . . and secure in your own skin.
The Franciscan friar, Richard Rohr, gives this description of what happens when we inhabit this inner dwelling place of God:
"Once you know that your "I" is great and one with God, you can . . . ironically . . . be quite content with a small and ordinary "I." No grandstanding is necessary. Any question (about) your own importance or dignity has already been resolved once, and for all, and forever. (Then,) it's a gift to joyfully recognize and accept your own smallness and ordinariness. Then you are free . . . with nothing to live up to, nothing to prove, and nothing to protect. Such freedom," he says, "is my best description of Christian maturity."
-- Adapted from Richard Rohr, Letting Go: A Spirituality of Subtraction, p. 255.
Did you catch his word "ordinary?" That's the third word for today.
One of the aspects of this congregation I most admire is our general lack of pretense and pomposity. Oh sure . . . we have our moments! But, most of the time, most of us behave simply as ordinary people.
Ordinary. The world's power narrative tells us that "ordinary" is a weak word . . . that we've got to be extra-ordinary. But we Christians know better! We have a different story. We know that "ordinary" is a power word . . . a holy word.
In a few minutes we're going to celebrate being God's ordinary people as we gather around the familiar meal of ordinary bread and wine. Perhaps in the future, if we're very lucky, we will gather around chocolate and coffee instead! But they're just other examples of the ordinary, everyday type of food with which Jesus identified himself.
In eating this ordinary food, we remember him . . . and experience God's extra-ordinary, Living Presence.
Ordinary food . . . but an extra-ordinary meal . . . it's our liturgical "Power Lunch." Ordinary food for ordinary people . . . ordinary people who are EMPOWERED TO GROW UP into Christian maturity by GIVING UP the soul-shrinking temptations of power . . . ordinary people who choose to say "Yes!" to the Power that forms who we most truly are . . . ordinary people who are filled with . . . who are centered in . . . and who become . . . instruments of God's extraordinary power called love.
Amen.
