Sermons
First Sunday in Lent
Sunday 25 February at 8am
Simon Cowling
Readings: 2 Corinthians 6. 1-10; Matthew 4. 1-11
An old man was asked, 'How can I find God?' He replied,
'In fasting, in watching, in labours, in devotion, and above all, in discernment.
I tell you, many have injured their bodies without discernment and have
gone away from us having achieved nothing. Our mouths smell bad through
fasting, we know the Scriptures by heart, we can recite all the psalms of
David, but we have not that which God seeks: love and humility.'
We are at the beginning of Lent, when self-denial and discipline
are high on the agenda of Christians and indeed a surprising number of non-Christians.
But as those words with which I began suggest self-denial and discipline
are only means to an end, the end being the love and humility that God seeks
from us. The words echo a number of Old Testament passages which condemn
fasting for its own sake: there's no point in fasting if all you do is look
gloomy and give yourself a hard time; it's of no use to you and is certainly
of no use to anyone else. The words with which I began actually come from
one of the fourth century Desert Fathers, Egyptian monks who went in their
thousands to the north African desert to emulate Jesus' wilderness experience.
In Matthew's account of this time, it is clear that the forty days he spent
alone in the desert brought our Lord closer to his heavenly Father. Thus
we can see the whole experience as a necessary prelude to his ministry of
loving and humble service, a refining of his mission and his purpose.
In his poem Ash Wednesday T.S.Eliot writes about 'the time
of tension between dying and birth/The place of solitude where three dreams
cross between blue rocks'. So how can we use the solitude of Lent? How can
we most effectively inhabit this place of tension? How will God judge our
fasting? The Jesus who spent time in the wilderness was human, as we are
human; indeed as the letter to the Hebrews says, in every respect he has
been tempted as we are. So Lent is, first of all, a chance for us, as Christians,
to take seriously our call to be human. We can rejoice that God has given
us the freedom to refuse to assent to evil, the evil of which we know ourselves
to be capable as well as the collective evil of humankind that is so often
at the root of disease and hunger, the desperation and squalor and terror
of the lives so many in our world are condemned to live; we can reject the
destructive temptation to grasp at equality with God, to impose our will
by might on others, to accept casually the consequences of war as mere collateral
damage; we can, if we will it, use the solitude of Lent to begin to glimpse
within ourselves that which we were truly created to be: people created
in love by God in God's own image and likeness. Yet if and when we fail
to live up to this call, this responsibility to be human, we can be certain
that God will not let us go. Time and again God will call us back to himself
in the person of Jesus whose human arms stretch out from the cross to embrace
the whole of humankind in an act of divine love. For although Jesus was
tempted as we are, he was without sin. Truly human yet truly God, loving
us back into our true shape.
May your Lent be richly blessed. Amen.
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©
St Edmund's Church, Roundhay
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22 April, 2007