The Fifth Sunday in Lent 2006

This sermon was preached at Saint Matthias Church on the Fifth Sunday in Lent, April 2, 2006 by seminarian Cathy Dempesy.

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer”

One of my favorite sayings comes from J.D. Salinger’s book Franny and Zooey. Franny has come home from college in emotional distress, early adulthood angst as she tries to figure out how to live as Jesus wants her to live. A little tired of this navel gazing, Zooey, her brother, exclaims: you don’t understand we all are carrying the Kingdom of Heaven around with us, inside where we are all too stupid and sentimental and unimaginative to look...” Zooey is saying, Franny stop trying to figure it out—we have it, it is a gift written upon our hearts---accept it. Look it is right here.

Apparently Zooey had been reading Jeremiah: “I will put my law within them and I will write it on their hearts. I will be their God and they shall be my people.” Marcus Borg tells us that the heart is referred to over 1,000 times in the Bible. He reminds us that “heart” is used here as a metaphor for self...just like Zooey said, the Kingdom of Heaven is right here, inside of us---inside each of our selves!

No doubt some of Franny’s confusion may have come from reading the fourth Gospel. Like many beautifully written elegant reads, this Gospel of John can be a little difficult to follow with its allegory and apocalyptic imagery. Not always easy to understand, especially in Sunday morning snippets. But then again, a lot our Christian belief and practice can be confusing. Think about it...even the people in the Gospel reading for today were confused. How can you say you are going to be Lifted up—executed and die—and claim to be the Messiah? What right thinking religion has their Messiah executed in order to be “crowned?”

Today we begin the last full week of Lent. Next Sunday marks Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and suddenly we are in Holy Week facing the cruel reality of Jesus’ suffering and death. A couple of weeks ago I heard a 4^th grader ask, in referring to Holy Week, Why do we do this every year? We know how it is going to end! Ok, truthfully I wanted to say, how I know, I am only in my first year of seminary…but I didn’t. Her question has stayed with me. Why do we, every year, sink into the penitential reflection and quiet of Lent, then suffer through the sadness and violence of Good Friday, the loneliness of Holy Saturday and then rejoice in the Hallelujahs of the Resurrection: we know how it is going to end!

To me the most obvious answer, and one I am sure many of you have already thought, is “so we won’t forget.” Right, so we won’t forget. But the thing is---we do forget. All the time. Even though, as Jeremiah reminds us, this new covenant is written on our hearts, we forget. Even as Jesus tells us earlier in this fourth Gospel: whoever comes to me will never thirst, whoever comes to me will never hunger. We forget. Jesus tells us---I didn’t come as a great high priest or a glorious splendiferous ruler, I came as one of you. To be among you. And I am going to suffer. Not because of you, not in spite of you. But for you. Because you are my children, my beloved. [ “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”]

I can almost hear Jesus sigh a heavy sigh, take a deep breath and try once again to explain: the old way has passed away and a new way is here. Generations will need to hear this story. They will remember. And then they will forget. And then they will need to be reminded again. Listen to me! You need to help people remember. Open your hearts to me because in there is my dwelling place. Let me in! 2000 years later, Zooey, in exasperation, reminds Franny The promise of the new covenant the drawing of all to Him, Jesus, it’s all right here, within us. Where we forget to look.

Today’s Gospel reading offers us the last glimpse of Jesus’ active ministry. His miracles, his healings, his teachings. The action of ministry is stopping as Jesus turns toward what he knows must come to pass. He knows what awaits him in Jerusalem. He knows that he must say good-bye to his friends and his family. He knows it but that won’t stop him from being scared. Or lonely. Or questioning. Jesus—God made man, the incarnate word—Jesus is going to be taunted and insulted. Beaten and spat upon. Crucified and die. Why? So we won’t forget. Why? So we’ll remember. Why? Because the new covenant is inside of us—where we can be imaginative enough to find it, hold it and remember it.

Today we have the Rite 13 liturgy. We have written words of wisdom and support to be presented to these young people. To be written upon their hearts. Like the psalmist asks, we hope that these young people will have a clean heart and that a right spirit will be renewed within them. When they are confirmed in a few weeks we will renew the covenant we made with them at their baptism. We are reminding them---you are marked as Christ’s own forever. Because we all forget, at times, that we are loved. We want them to remember that the kingdom of God is within them. We want the light of Christ to shine upon them. Our journey like theirs and like that of Jesus and his friends, is ongoing. Remember. Let us walk through these last days of Lent remembering that the light of the world is within us, among us, between us, above us, below us. All around us. Walk with the light so that when the inevitable darkness of life visits us, the light within will lead the way.

Let us pray:

Gracious God, light of the world, lead us through these days of goodbyes, to the great hello, the gift of your eternal love, indescribable and precious, which dwells within us all.

Amen.