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Rev. Paul Tellström Irvine United Congregational Church Lent 1C “Choose Something Like a Star” February 25, 2007
Hebrew Reading: Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16 word count: 1,455 Gospel: Luke 4:1-13 poem: 161
The Greek adjective eremos means “empty or desolate”. From this came the noun eremia, or “desert”. Toward the end of the 3rd century, it became common for Christians in Egypt to go into the desert, where they lived a solitary life of contemplation and asceticism. A person who did this was known as an eremite (ERR-uh-mite). St. Anthony, the founder of Christian monasticism, went into the desert in emulation of Jesus’ forty days of temptation and desolation. St. Jerome, who made the first translation of the Bible from Hebrew into Latin, also spent a number of years as an eremite, which has become the word, “hermit”. What caused them to choose a life of such steadfast and simple purpose was influenced by the scripture we heard today: “Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished.” The story goes on to tell of Jesus’ temptations regarding his own personal nourishment, power, and even his status with God, as he is taken to the pinnacle of the temple, where the devil, who knows scripture, quotes the 91st psalm: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” As a kid growing up in a very middle-of-the-road church in conservative upstate New York, references to the devil were explained as metaphors—the devil was a symbol of all that was evil—a presence working in the world that we could not see, but if we could, it might look a certain way; the depictions of evil personified have been painted by artists throughout history with much relish and color, and Milton has filled in the blanks for us regarding his character. We still sing that great hymn of the church, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God”, and we get hit with that stanza: “For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe, his craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate, on earth without an equal.” William Sloane Coffin once said, “People were right in the pre-scientific world to personify evil. Evil should be personified imaginatively if we experience it as a power working against us as a people; the corporate structures today that split and subdue our spirits and tear at our sense of world security. If evil arises within us, we experience it as something stronger than us, and we allow it to rise and overtake us.” From 1964-1974, the belief in God dropped 8%, while belief in the devil rose 11%, close to where it is today—fully two-thirds of Americans believe in an anthropomorphic devil. Today, 78% of liberal Protestants believe in the devil, while only 70% of Catholics profess such a belief.1 These beliefs are undoubtedly historically related to times of great social change when things are going in unanticipated and unwanted directions. Uncertain times produce fanaticism, and fanaticism knows no religious, political or social boundaries. It seeks and attaches its own meanings to truth and claims it for its own. I like to think that the stories in the Bible were given to us to relate to and to find truth in for our lives today. The temptations in the wilderness are the temptations in front of humankind represented in Christ’s facing of all that is evil, all that tempts us, not always from afar, but also from within. Christ is tempted with food after a fast of forty days. We are tempted throughout our lives to fill ourselves with the things of this world in place of our spiritual nourishment, even as others have nothing. Christ is tempted with power—it should be easy to see how that relates to us as people just by watching the struggles for power at home and around the world throughout history, and what we will bargain with to get that power. Christ is tempted to test God. We hear voices all around us testing God by their assurances that they are the ones whom God favors, whether that means a “favored” ideology, creed, or nation. The choir has brought us Robert Frost today, and Rob asked me to read the text to “Choose Something Like a Star” to begin our Lenten season. Last October, Carl and I walked in a Vermont autumn rain through the graveyard of the Old Bennington Congregational Church to pay our respects to Robert Frost, whose stone was covered with wet, fresh, yellow and red leaves, some of which I took with me in my pockets, and others we swept away to read his epitaph: “I had a lover’s quarrel with the world.” Set to music by Randall Thompson, Frost’s poem can be seen as a metaphor for how we come to know “truth”, and begins with an approach, “O Star, the fairest one in sight.” There is the light, the source—distant, far. We ask so much of it. We bargain, we flatter—“We grant your loftiness the right to some obscurity of cloud.” Then those of us who want to reduce truth to simple creeds have their voice: “Say something to us we can learn by heart and when alone repeat.” The voices become more emphatic: “Say something.” And the star simply says, “I burn.” For those who dwell only on statistics and facts, this is not enough: “But say with what degree of heat. Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade. Use language we can comprehend. Tell us what elements you blend.” And here Frost compares the star to that steadfast hermit that wanders the desert in emulation of Christ’s temptations in the wilderness. And where are we on that walk? How do we respond to the temptations that pull us into viewing the world through skewed eyes? How have many of us in our own lifetimes have seen “truth” co-opted by extremes and interpreted to favor one group over another? And so “truth” the “fairest star” invites us: “It asks a little of us here. It asks of us a certain height, so when at times the mob is swayed to carry praise or blame too far, we may choose something like a star to stay our minds on and be staid.” Do we stay our minds on something like a star and be staid, like the gentle, craggy and insistent Elie Wiesel, who recently said, “Respect is the contradiction of fanaticism. Information leads to knowledge, and knowledge to sensitivity, and sensitivity to commitment.2 Do we stay our minds on something like a star and be staid, like Cardinal OMalley, who also recently said “What people lack and need is a sense of calling, of vocation. I am speaking not of religious calling only, or mainly, but of a sense of purpose, of direction in life, of the investment of life in something of meaning and depth and power, of letting their lives speak.” 3 Do we stay our minds on something like a star and be staid with the words of theologian N.T. Wright, who said, “Made for spirituality, we wallow in introspection. Made for joy, we settle for pleasure. Made for justice, we clamor for vengeance. Made for beauty, we are satisfied with sentiment. But new creation has already begun. The sun has begun to rise. It is time, in the power of the Spirit, to take up our proper role, our fully human role, as agents, heralds, and stewards of the new day that is dawning. Do we stay our minds on something like a star and be staid with the words of theologian Marcus Borg, who last Monday night at a dinner I attended, told us that when 90% of the world was desperately poor, the greatest focus of the biblical sense of justice was care for those most needy. The bible is not an argument about who is sanctified or saved, but shows instead a direction in which justice can be done. We are a people walking in the wilderness in search of meaning and rebirth amongst the temptations that are shown us by those that can even occasionally throw scripture at us, or the temptations that arise from within; the rebirth of faith in something larger than we can imagine, something that when asked to describe itself, simply said, “I AM THAT I AM,” like the star that said, “I burn”, and asks a little of us here. It asks of us a certain height. O Star (the fairest one
in sight), Say something to us we
can learn It gives us strangely
little aid,
Sermon Resources 1. 1974 national survey conducted by the Center for Policy Research. 2. 10/23/2006 RAH lecture notes, as spoken by Dean Robert Allan Hill, November 12, 2006 Marsh Chapel Boston University 3. 10/24/2006 RAH lecture notes, as spoken by Dean Robert Allan Hill, November 12, 2006 Marsh Chapel Boston University 4. Wright, N.T., “Simply Christian” p.229, as quoted by Robert Allan Hill, November 12, 2006 Marsh Chapel Boston University Scripture for Sunday, February 25, 2007 Lent 1 C
Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16
You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.” Because you have made the Lord your refuge, the Most High your dwelling place, no evil shall befall you, no scourge come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the adder, the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot. Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name. When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will rescue them and honor them. With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation.
Luke 4:1-13
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’” Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time. |