Lent 5 - Renewal

Already, we are nearly at the end of Lent. Seriously? To me, it seems like the past few weeks have just flown by – there has been time for reflection and penitence, but the time almost seems too short. Much like my hair. For having given up shaving my head for Lent, I sincerely hoped that my cue-ball crown would be covered by a thick rug by now. Granted, parts of it are, but not as much as I would have liked.

Tempus fugit. Time flies. Oh, we how we’ve learned that lesson well. My youngest son celebrated his fourth birthday last week; it seems almost impossible that four years has gone by since an uncomfortable night at the hospital in Saskatoon. My mother says the same thing when she sees me, proud father of (almost) four, holder of two university degrees. Time flies.

It’s a real privilege to serve in a community in which a church has been so long established. The roots of St. Matthew’s stretch back over 120 years in Spruce Grove and the surrounding area; it has been a testimony and a witness to faith. Yet that long tradition also brings with it a downside: religion as tradition, a series of landmarks to plow through: baptism, church, mandatory two years of confirmation (“after that’s done” parents say, “you can choose to come to church or not”), and then not being seen again until Christmas or Easter, a wedding or funeral.

I’m not surprised by a response that I hear often. “Pastor, we keep meaning to come to church more often;” “Pastor, we’ve been thinking about coming more often,” “Pastor, we miss coming but are just so busy.”

And I trust that God is less busy than they are, and finds time for them.

I’m not annoyed, but I find myself sorrowful; what I see is a complication of the life and culture we live in. So many devices and products promise to ‘free up’ more leisure time; then we pay money for over-priced items that are supposed to make leisure time more enjoyable; then we have to work harder to pay for those items. It’s a vicious, vicious cycle. As our lives become focussed on our selves, our time, and our possessions – even our families – they come to control us, and we lose sight of the God who first gave those things to us.

We confess we are captive to sin, and cannot free ourselves.

Remembrance, repentance, re-commitment, restoration; and finally, renewal. The five ‘Rs’ of Lent, five things that we can do, to re-establish and re-affirm our own commitment to the promises we make at baptism and again at confirmation, to live lives dedicated to God. Promising to let our light shine before others, high hopes and expectations and excitement are common feelings.

But time flies. Oh, how time flies.

The Israelites living in Babylon knew how quickly time could pass. A few years of exile, and they could see their young people beginning to forget the old ways, forget what it meant to be called ‘people of God’. Life was a hardscrabble existence and, barely remembering that most of their ancestor’s time in the wilderness was spent wishing they were back in Egypt, the yoke of oppression weighs heavily on their hearts. Jeremiah isn’t called ‘the weeping prophet’ because of his positive outlook on life.

The Israelites in Babylon, you see, blamed their ancestors for their exile. We heard a few weeks ago God speak the words “I the Lord am a jealous God; punishing children for the sins of their parents” (Exodus 20:3). The Israelites looked around, and hearing the stories of how their ancestors sinned before the Lord they came to blame them for their problems.

Of course, if you’ve read the book of Jeremiah, you know that the Israelites in Babylon were in fact no better than their ancestors at keeping the law. But it helps to have someone to blame.

And through Jeremiah, God spoke words of hope to this children: “I will make a new covenant…not lie the old…I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people…I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.”

God’s new covenant is God’s choice to forgive his children, and forget their sins. To see a light that shines in their darkness.

Or, maybe as it says elsewhere in scripture – “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our trangressions from us.” God’s promise that that he will, in fact, create clean hearts in his people, hear their prayers, and grant them life, and salvation. Their hope for renewal becomes their faith in the promises of God; in God’s promise is to give light to the world.

How do we find renewal? In our world, with all its drives and distractions – depression and anxiety, affluence and cult of self-actualization, our centre becomes lost. We sit in Babylon, and lament that we have been cut off from God. Time goes by, and we find to our dismay that, in fact, we’ve come to like Babylon – it’s become what we know.

But we’re not the first people to realize that. A group of Greeks came up to Jerusalem for the Passover festival at the same time Jesus was there. Greece was well-known for its prevalence of philosophers and teachers, but these people were known as “God-fearers”: gentiles who followed the Hebrew teaching and believed in God, but who declined to take the final step of becoming part of the Abrahamic covenant.

They’re in Jerusalem, and they’ve heard about Jesus; so, they come see Philip and ask one simple question: “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

And Philip goes and asks Andrew, and then they go together – maybe along with that group of Greeks – to see Jesus. They have been followers of Jesus for quite some time; they’ve heard his teaching and seen his wonders.

As people who are fairly visible parts of Jesus’ ministry, they’ve probably encountered hundreds of people who ask them that same question. In some other places in scripture, the disciples and followers of Jesus don’t do very well at letting people near. As John says a little later in his gospel – although he had performed so many signs in their presence, they did not believe in him.

But, when Philip and Andrew go to Jesus with the request of another, they experience him very differently. Instead of the rabbi they’ve come to know and trust, they find a confusing parable – those who love their life will lose it, and those who hate their life will keep it for eternal life – and words of hope: and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.

Time is a luxury to Philip and Andrew, and they think they have lots of it left. The truth is, though, they don’t. Jesus’ words cut through their complacency – they have a good life – and, I think, are meant to stir them into action.

In other words, by bringing someone else to Jesus, Philip and Andrew find renewal for themselves. By moving out of their own reality, moving to accept others into their midst and bring them to their teacher, Philip and Andrew find words of challenge and renewal.

Curiously, in church circles renewal is often described as a deep, touchy-feely sense of well-being. But if you’re bring renewal to your home, chances are your preparing for a big change, a lot of sweat, and some uncomfortable times ahead…like using an outhouse because your bathroom renovation takes six weeks.

Seeking renewal is about finding the unexpected, about finding Christ in unexpected ways. It doesn’t seem like Jesus would have granted such words of understanding to Philip and Andrew had they not come with others who were seeking answers – renewal comes through sharing your faith, through risking a comfortable life and comfortable relationship.

No longer will we say to each other ‘know the Lord,’ says Jeremiah, because we will all know the Lord. We’ve remembered, repented, recommitted, sought restoration, and find renewal. You don’t need to share your faith with the imperative and coercive – “know the Lord!” – but with the risk and hope that the greeks bring: “we wish to see Jesus.”

Come, and see. Come, and see the light that shines in the darkness. Come, and see the Son of Man lifted up on the cross and know that he draws all people to himself: even you.

When people are baptised here at St. Matthew’s, we give them a candle (lit from the Christ candle) with the words, “let your light shine before others so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

You are given that light. Renew yourselves: share it; hold it up – and see Christ draw all people to himself.

Let the people of God say amen.