Making the Good Confession -- A Lectionary Reflection for Lent 1
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Romans 10:8b-13
Luke 4:1-13
Making the Good
Confession
Lent has begun, and for the next forty days and forty nights
we will receive reminders to look inwardly and discern the nature of our
faith. To whom do we give our trust? Who is it that defines for us the right
course in life? What does it mean to be
a disciple, a follower of Jesus? On Ash
Wednesday we began the journey by making confession of sin and receiving the
mark of mourning (ash) on our foreheads.
We don’t do this to wallow in self-pity, but as to remind ourselves that
the path forward requires a companion, a guide, so that we might experience a
hopeful present and future. And who is
this guide, it is the Holy Spirit, who leads Jesus in to the wilderness, but
doesn’t abandon him there.
The story from the gospel reading, as is true on all first
Sunday’s of Lent, tells the story of Jesus’ Wilderness Ordeal. It defines for us the parameters of the season,
but in this cycle we also attend to texts that call upon us to make confession
of faith. They ask us to entrust our
lives to God and pursue that calling in ways that transform us into the people of
God.
We begin with Deuteronomy 26, which offers instructions to
the people of God. Our text calls for
the people to make offerings of thanksgiving because they have received their
inheritance. They have entered the
Promised Land – though the passage is written in a way that suggests that this
takes place in the future. Instructions
are given for how to give thanks, once one crosses the river. This offering is a confession of faith. It serves to announce that they have arrived in
the Land the Lord promised them. The confession
of faith that accompanies the offering is a recital of the story of a people
who live in covenant relationship with God.
And so as the offering is made, the worshiper declares: “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor . . .”
(NRSV). That reference to Abraham sets
the beginning of the story. The ancestor
is a wanderer, a nomad, a family without a place to call their own. A promise is made – a home will be provided –
but until that point, this was a wandering people – dependent on God (and
neighbor). The idea that the Hebrews
were a nomadic people is well-known, but I’m intrigued, by the rending in the
Common English Bible. It reads: “My
father was a starving Aramean.” Like
Jesus, wandering in the wilderness, Abraham was starving, but not only Abraham,
but his descendants face the same fate.
Remember that the progeny of Abraham and Sarah, specifically the family
of Jacob moves to Egypt due to famine, but in the course of time, they become
enslaved, and are oppressed and forced to perform hard labor. It’s from that enslavement they have now
been freed. They no longer must wander
(and starve), for they have found a home. They can bring an offering from the
produce of that Promised Land, and in bringing this offering the worshiper
celebrates God’s provision.
There is something in this passage that needs highlighting,
because it speaks directly to issues at hand – at this moment in time -- in the
land of my birth and my residence. In
the confession the worshiper remembers that the ancestors were immigrants, but
became a great nation. It was for this
reason that they were eventually enslaved and oppressed – there was fear of the
immigrant present in Egypt. At this
moment there is much conversation in political circles, concerning
comprehensive immigration reform. The
President called for action to be taken in his State of the Union Address. Groups are meeting on Capitol Hill to discuss
it. I don’t know what the final bill
will look like. There’s a lot of give and take going on, with many opponents,
who fear that immigration will “change” the nation. We (Euro-Americans) will, some say, soon be
outnumbered. Our way of life is
threatened, and so we must put a stop to this inflow of undesirables. This reading, therefore, is an apt one. The people of God are reminded that they are descendents
of immigrants, and therefore, they should include the immigrants (resident
aliens) in their worship. If we are to
be faithful in our confession of faith, then surely we must act justly
regarding those who wander, those who starve, those who are oppressed. That is the vision of God, and it is the confession
of faith made before God we’re asked to make.
Paul offers us a different form of the confession of
faith. It’s briefer than the one found
in Deuteronomy, and it’s focused on Jesus.
The message that Paul preaches is this:
If we wish to be saved, made whole, experience the restoration of our
relationship with God; then we must verbally confess “Jesus is Lord,” was well
as believe in our hearts that God has raised him from the dead. This seems to be is a pretty straightforward
evangelical definition of the way of salvation.
Trust in Jesus and you will be saved. Although seemingly different from the
Deuteronomy passage, both declare that salvation or deliverance will come from
God. Although it’s easy to miss, there’s
another element of similarity between these two passages. Even as Deuteronomy makes provision for the
immigrant or resident alien, Paul makes it clear that there’s no distinction to
be made between Jew and Greek. In
Christ, nationalism is put aside. As Nicole
Johnson warns us, we should take care “lest we fall prey to nationalisms, racisms,
or other forms of distinction inappropriate for the community called ‘church,’
contemporary Christians must heed Paul’s injunction not to distinguish between
‘Jew’ and ‘Greek’.” Of course we do make
these distinctions. We seem unable to
stop ourselves from dividing everyone up according to this stereotype or
another. Still, that is not the way it
should be. And so Johnson, continues her
challenge, rephrasing Paul’s message for us.
We could substitute our own current word pairs to bring Paul’s point home to our own contexts: ‘For there is no distinction between [black and white, male and female, gay and straight, American and immigrant, rich and poor, old and young}; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. For, ‘Everyone [indeed, EVERYONE!} who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved’” (vv. 12-13). [Preaching God’s Transforming Justice, Year C, p. 126]
Having heard these two confessions of faith and hearing in
them calls to engage in works of justice as an expression of faith, we come to
the story of Jesus’ wilderness ordeal.
He’s been baptized by John, heard God’s claim upon him, and now that he
is “full of the Holy Spirit,” that same Spirit leads him into that
wilderness. For many of us the
wilderness connotes a remote forested area, but for Luke it is a deserted and
barren space. There is nothing to
sustain life – no water, no food. Like
the Hebrews wandering in the desert of Sinai, Jesus finds himself in a truly
deserted place. And for forty days and
forty nights he eats nothing. By the end
of this sojourn he’s starving. I find it
difficult to fast for a couple of meals, but Jesus goes weeks without any
sustenance. Surely he is as weak in
spirit as he is in body. But such is not
the case.
Jesus faces three tests or temptations. 1) Make bread from stones; 2) exchange
worship for a crown; 3) and show off a bit by jumping from the pinnacle of the
Temple – knowing all the time that the angels will rescue him. The tests are put to him by the devil. Each of the tests either quotes from or makes
an assumption based on words of Scripture, but Jesus doesn’t bite. He’s not a proof-texter of that sort. He knows that Scripture can be abused and
used. So he doesn’t give in. He won’t make bread from stones, because
“People don’t live only by bread – instead the unspoken message is that one
leaves by “every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.” He will continue to trust God, not
self-serving abilities.
Luke ends this encounter with these words: ‘the devil departed from him until the next
opportunity.” Whatever your theology of
the devil, Luke makes it clear that this is only the first of many encounters
that Jesus will face in life to forgo his calling. Remember that in the Garden, Jesus
prays: “Father, if you are willing,
remove this cup from me.” The temptation
to turn back is there, but then Jesus goes on – “by not my will, but yours be
done” (Luke 22:42).
So, as we begin the journey of Lent, what is God’s call? What is God’s desire? And what will be our profession of
faith? Will we continue to follow the
Spirit, even through the Wilderness?
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