Lent 2

            Today's scriptures are rich in the essence and reality of what it means to be spending time in our spiritual wilderness, in penance and discernment. They’re perfect for Lent.

            First we have Abram and Sarai's opportunity to stop laughing at God and celebrate the unexpected gifts and future blessings. Then the Psalmist shifts from being personally forsaken by God to praising God for God's faithfulness to future generations. And Paul's letter highlighting what happens to those who practice righteousness of faith. Our scriptures remind us to think more about God than about ourselves; and to focus on the future more than the past. And while that's easy to say, sometimes it can be difficult to live. That was the case in the Gospel passage, which I'll delve into with much more depth.

            It starts with Jesus really laying it out for his followers, speaking openly and plainly. He will suffer greatly, he will rejected by his closest friends (the people he's directly addressing!), he will die, and then will rise again.

            Now, for folks - like Peter - who I think missed the last little bit of his speech, they only hear bad news. Yet Jesus is meant to bring GOOD news. No one wants to hear about death, especially if their hearts are not fully prepared for the promise of resurrection. So Peter rejects Jesus’ words. Who can blame him? He likes how things are going, he’s comfortable with it. This is another Peter-preservation moment - another mountaintop "It is GOOD for us to be HERE!"

            Well, we recall that the first time Peter tried this approach, he got a gentle re-direction: God's voice from the cloud instructed him to listen to Jesus.

            ... and that's the exact opposite of what Peter does today. No wonder Jesus immediately calls him a shockingly bold name, in front of everyone, to point out his shortcoming.

            I'm going to pause for a moment here, on WHAT Jesus calls Peter: Satan.

            Ouch. That's an insult and then some! As the adage goes, with friends like that who needs enemies!

            Well, it's an insult to our ears - because our 21st century imaginations conjure images of Satan as some pudgy little red dude with horns, a tail, and a pitchfork, sitting in a fiery pit. It’s a powerful image - but not a biblical one.

            The biblical understanding of Satan actually comes from the Old Testament, from the book of Job - where Job is sitting, dejected and alone, and he is hearing the voice of an accuser: Ha-Satan means the accuser - the one who peaks into your life, teasing out the worst feelings and fears, and then exploiting them. Accusing you of your weakest moments, with the hope that by dredging up all that negativity, one will fall back into those patterns and practices.

            So why does Jesus call Peter this? Because Peter is more focused on maintaining the status quo than supporting the mission and ministry of Jesus. He's so inward-looking, that he misses the bigger picture. He's comfortable, he and his 12 friends, so why change anything?

            Ah, Jesus says - because I'm here for the whole world, not just for you.

Jesus rebukes him, needing to get this point strongly and precisely known. He knows his time left is minimal, and Peter really needs to come up to speed. It’s as though he is reminding them all that he has enough enemies from the outside world, what he needs are strong friends and followers.

            So we can hear these words a different way. "Get behind me Satan!" can be heard as "Stop these accusations! I need someone to help, not to hinder. If you're not coming with me into the future, as uncertain and unknown as it may feel, then get behind me - stay in your version of the past. But you'll be alone; I won’t be there."

            Ouch, indeed. And, when we put ourselves into this story, ouch again.

            Yet in this gospel passage - as in all of Jesus' teaching moments - we are invited to hear anew the words that will help us re-orient our lives towards being followers of the Christ, God's anointed, the Messiah. We are invited to constantly and consistently listen to the timeless teaching that the Son of God has for the entirety of the world that he came to save.

            So when Jesus identifies that Peter is focusing on his earthly comforts rather than on the opportunity to build up the kingdom of God, Jesus is also saying that to us.

            And the season of Lent encourages us to spend intentional time reflecting on how we are Peter, living in fear - and on how we might change our hearts to boldly embrace the future, in a sure and certain hope of the resurrection.

            When Jesus speaks to the entire community and invites them to deny themselves, to take up their cross, and to follow him, he is speaking to all of us, as community.

            And Lent gives us the time and space to come together in prayer and fasting to seek new ways to engage our broader community, to ensure that our realities reflect our priorities, that we live in action and not just intention.

            When Jesus highlights the selfish behaviours that people keep for the sake of their own creature comforts, he addresses the very human nature of a "me first" mentality.

            And Lent draws us out of that space, into the truth of what it means to be a community of Christ-followers, authentically caring for one another as we want to be cared for, giving generously because we know that we have received much more from our God.

            When Jesus challenges the people to consider the value of their eternal life, in temporary worldly terms, he articulates the dilemma for us all.

            And Lent evokes the response in our hearts to this: how many things would we trade for our life? How much money is our life worth? How much would we do and give for someone else's life? What would we sacrifice to maintain things exactly as they are in this life?

            Lent is exactly the time for us to ponder. To pray. To discern. To prepare.

            Where are we in these scriptures? Where are we in the crowd of Jesus followers? What about our families and friends? What about our beloved church and community?

            This is OUR opportunity of Lent: not to point our fingers at someone or something else, but to look deeply at ourselves, to hold up the mirror to our souls, to silence the accuser, to re-orient ourselves in community, to look confidently to the future.

            Lent is a time to recognise that we can be so caught on past systems and structures that should those crumble, so would we. It's a time to embrace the reality that truly living means letting go of control and trusting in the hope and power and grace of God.  It means becoming okay with an ongoing cycle of change, so long as that change is focused on heaven. It means accepting that we need to be comfortable with being UNcomfortable, because carrying our cross for the sake of the Gospel is not meant to be an easy journey.

            This week, that means that for some it's a time of standing up against gun violence, even against NRA-supported politicians, like many of the Parkland shooting survivors. For some, it's a time of declaring solidarity with our indigenous brothers and sisters, so we never have another Colton Boushie. For some, it's a time for denouncing racist legal systems like that which failed Tina Fontaine. For some, it's a time to advocate for the homeless on our streets so that we never need another "Coldest night of the Year." For us, it's a time to ... ... well, that's for ongoing discernment, for careful and prayerful consideration of looking inward and heavenward to figure out where God is leading us: individually, and as a church.

            But through all this, what sustains us through Lent is the knowledge that we are meant to live in hope. We are meant to live in peace. We are meant to live in the comfort of all that Christ promises us. We are meant to live in the present, and to keep our focus on the future.                For death is an earthly truth; but resurrection is a divine promise.