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. Luke 4:1-2

As Lent begins, we have repented, and have been marked as a sign of our desire to lead a new life. There has been a recognition of our mortality; life will not last forever, new life will. The mistakes of the past will not determine our future.

Hungry for God, we stand face to face with the extent of the brokenness in our lives. Our thirst for control, power, and to prove something is stronger than we thought. The mark on our foreheads has already worn out, no longer visible, yet still at work in us. The Spirit is leading us through this wilderness. We are not alone!

How do we resist these ingrained tendencies and voices?

Jesus knew the rhythms of his religious tradition. He knew the words, movements and actions that had been time tested for generations. The saints that had gone before had made their mark, even to the present day.

Liturgy is repetitive — it has to be! In that repetition the rhythms and movement of the Christian faith become a part of of who we are, become the instrument of healing the deep brokenness. Dan Benedict says it this way:

In the Liturgy we know God and experience God’s power to shape our lives and move us from the old selves to participation in the new creation.  (Patterned by Grace, 24-25)

In some ways our participation in the patterns of the liturgical life mirrors Jesus’ wanderings in the desert where the pattern of his community’s worship life guided him in faithful response to the devil’s constant offers of synthetic life.

On Ash Wednesday we were invited to go on this journey. We carry with us the instruments that will guide our way: prayer, fasting, and giving to the poor. On this first Sunday of Lent we know that the liturgy provides us with the cadences needed for this transformative journey. Just as Jesus walked in the wilderness with the Spirit as guide, so do we. We are not alone, and I believe that in the end the pattern of our liturgical life paves the way for our continual encounter with the risen Christ.

As we begin this journey of Lent I invite you to hear carefully the rhythms of your community’s worship:
+ Where are the words that will help you fight off your deepest tendencies towards brokenness?
+ What are the songs, prayers , and movements that come to the forefront in the midst of our times of wilderness?
+ What patterns will pave the way to the risen Christ?

I’m sure it was the same with Mary. Young peasant girl, far removed from the centers of power, easily ignored by most. The promise of salvation was for her too, but her people had waited a while and most had forgotten the promise. The angel comes in to remind and to ask if she wanted to be part of God’s promise. Surprised she says yes! She “believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” (Luke 1:45)

To many she would have been an unusual choice, young, unmarried, powerless. The whole affair a sure scandal, not the way you would want a savior to come. Yet that’s what God chose and that’s what sets this event apart for the ages. The act itself is a turning of the status quo, of the values that this waiting community had settled for, of the ideas of power.

This young woman recognizes this “turning of events.” Songwriter Rory Cooney in Canticle of the Turning (iTunes link) interprets it like this:

The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn,
there are tables spread,
ev’ry mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn.

The salvation that has been promised is one that will turn the world upside down. Here we remember the mountains brought down, the valleys filled up, and the crooked ways made straight. We also remember the cosmic groaning of creation for a new day and the need for our turning around to be fruit bearing.

Mary’s song of praise, of prophesy, of remembrance, bring us to reality. It reminds us that this coming is meant for the renewal/redemption/salvation of the world. And that we, each of us, is called to become the bearers of salvation, the agents of this turning for all of creation.

Maybe we too have forgotten what we are waiting for . . . maybe we too have settled into a way of life. God has not forgotten. The promise of our redemption has been fulfilled, the way has been prepared. As we near the time of celebration let us remember the radical nature of Christ’s coming in the world. More importantly let us be attentive to the re-birth of Christ in each of us, of the invading presence of the Holy Spirit that pushes us into the dangerous territory of Kingdom work.

Only then can we join in Mary’s song:

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

. . . . only then are we ready for the savior!

Enter John the baptizer. He comes into a world where there is the perception that all is well, no change is needed, yet those outside the halls of power were “ripe for change” (Mariam J. Kammell in Feasting on the Word). The prophet calls it like is by telling his hearers: repent, turn around! This is not the message that we are hoping to hear.

It strikes me that this message comes from the wilderness, a place to be feared, a place where nothing good happens. It is this place, not the places of power, that God uses to give us a message of hope. This is also the place that God calls God’s own — to go on a journey, not to stay in exile but to take a chance on going to a home that many have never known.

Advent has become this wilderness for the church. We are fighting it like the Israelites fought going home. The prophet’s social critique fits us well today. He is asking us to repent, to turn around from our ways that in the end leave us in exile. W. Paul Jones, Methodist elder turned Trappist monk, tells it like this: “here [is] a conflict between the Israelites’ craving to go back to a place that was not ‘home,’ versus the courage to escape to a ‘Promised Land’ where they had never been before. So it is with each of us. We live on the bridge.” (from A Season in the Desert: Making Time Holy)

The call to repent is a call to recognize our need to turn around. We were told last week to “stay awake” so that we could recognize the coming of salvation. Now we struggle with what we are told. We have trouble turning around, our so called “home” is comfortable even if it is not the promised land.

Advent forces us to live on this bridge and we are fighting it with all of our being!

If we hear the prophet carefully we know that all stumbling blocks have been removed. The valleys are filled up, the mountains laid low, the crooked paths straightened. All has been made ready. There is no excuse to remain in exile, freedom has been made possible, “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” (Luke 3:6)

Now is the time for us to live into repentance. We need to look towards the wilderness and acknowledge that the work of turning around is difficult but it is our calling. This wilderness is dangerous indeed! Repentance — turning around — is dangerous, not comfortable, it shakes the foundations of who we are and of the communities we are a part of. Letting go of the comforts of exile into the wilderness of salvation is a decision one should not take lightly.

After all, our “way of life” will change if we walk to the other side of this bridge. We are comfortable here, strangers, bound, but comfortable, our surroundings have become our reality, yet that reality as we have it is not what God intended. There is a promise of a new day. We are called to prepare by a total reorientation of life! Our whole being turned towards God, the giver of life.

It’s Christmas everywhere…but we are still preparing. This does not mean we are not looking forward to the celebration. What it means is that we recognize that we cannot jump into the celebration until we are prepared for what Christ’s coming really means. It also means that we, like the prophet, stand in the wilderness and proclaim that all is not well, a turning around is needed, the real home awaits!

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Luke 21:25-28

Most of us will arrive at our congregations on Sunday morning expecting the joy that we experience in the stores, television, and other public places. We are expecting Christmas music blaring, bows & lights, red and green everywhere and the manger scene. Instead we hear about the end of the world and to be watchful. This is not the kind of message that put us in a Christmas mood; this does not sound like “the most wonderful time of the year!”

Advent is a time of waiting for the savior, a time to acknowledge that a savior is needed.

A savior is needed because something is wrong with the world. The whole created order is not functioning as God intended, not living into its fullness. Humanity is not living out its calling to be stewards of all creation and to be part of a society that places the other before the self, and recognizes God as the giver of all things. This problem is cosmic in scope.

A savior is needed because we cannot fix it ourselves. Constantly distracted by our own desires and ways of life we cannot see our own need and the need of the world. We are too busy with life…earning, collecting, hoarding. Too busy to slow down and see the signs that help is needed. Even if we paid attention our first response would be a sense of helplessness. The struggles are so many, the difficulties so large. I can see why we would be paralyzed by those things that we actually see in the world.

Hurrying to Christmas is not what is needed. What the world needs is for the Christian community to stay alert and proclaim the need for a savior. And so, we proclaim:

+ A God who breaks into history to provide for its redemption.
+ The continuing need to resist injustice, oppression and evil in whatever forms they present themselves.
+ That creation continues its groan for the day of salvation.

In Advent we wait in hopeful expectation of God’s in-breaking for the healing of the world. We depend on God’s help to help us “stay the course” and we depend on each other as a community of faith to continue discerning and calling each other to accountability, keeping one another watching, seeking and actively rehearsing the realm of God in the world.

God has brought, is bringing and will bring salvation to the world. We wait in that hope and in waiting we realize that Advent is a “wonderful time” after all!