First Sunday in Lent: The Light is Fading Fast

Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-10;1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15

The light is fading fast. I really do not like the Season of Lent. I understand why it is there: to prepare for Holy Week and Easter through a season of penitence. But even though I am generally a very introspective person by nature, I do not like the window that Lent not only throws open on my soul but forces me to look into. I don't want to see that, generally. White-washed tomb and all that. I think it is very interesting that the Old Testament lesson is the reestablishment of the covenant between God and the world after the flood. This is sort of a "this is how the world is" moment, as opposed to the "this is how the world used to be" moment of the history leading up to the flood. In the book of Genesis there is one more story in the "this is how the world used to be" sort of moment: the tower of Babel with its common language and common ambition for humanity, neither of which were the case either at the time of the authors nor at the present time.

The new covenant between God and the world established after the flood includes the provision that God will never again destroy the world by water. This is perhaps a reflection of the ancient motif from other flood stories that the gods became disturbed at their own destructive potential, but I'll leave that point aside for now. After Noah makes his sacrifice, God's wrath is appeased, and the relationship is reestablished. That is often how it works, even if it is present fashion to want to downplay notions of God's wrath in favor of God's mercy and care for creation. Especially coming off my recent experience at the environmental responsibility conference, I would tend in this direction as well. God does in fact care for creation, even if God was willing to destroy creation through water because of the sinfulness of humanity. That in itself says something.

But our texts also include Psalm 25, one of the great hymns of trusting in God in the face of many enemies. While this was not the case for Noah, since he and his family were the only humans and so there were not any enemies, soon enough sin and judgment entered back into the world. But for the singer of Psalm 25, trust is cast upon God in the hopes that God will honor that trust and not put the worshiper to shame. The Psalmist also calls God to remember the promises that were given before. Could these promises that God is called to remember include the promise not to destroy the earth by water again? It is certainly possible, for this is indeed a promise of God.

The passage from 1 Peter indicates something similar, specifically from a Christian standpoint. The judgment has come, just like it did with Noah. The judgment that should have been laid on humanity was instead laid upon Jesus. Nevermind the substitutionary atonement potential in this statement; the point is rather that God has hung his war bow up in the sky. God does not desire that anyone should perish, but that all should come to repentance. That is the essence of the Gospel. That is what it really means when Jesus was baptized, and when the Spirit of God descended upon him with God's judgment that he was the beloved. Even the beloved was sacrificed so that there could be redemption. And even the beloved world was sacrificed so that there could be a renewed relationship between God, humanity, and creation. We pray only that God will not remember our previous sins against us, and the ultimate promise of the Gospel is that God forgets. We are now fully into the swing of the dark wood of Lent. And the light from the meadow now has failed. In spite of the wonderful potential that inheres in the willingness of God to forgive even after his punishment and judgment are meted out, still we have to go through the punishment, through the scourging. And even if we do not like what we see when we are forced to look into the darkness of our souls by the window thrown open by Lent, we stay on the path, praying that God will remember us even as he forgets out sin. Amen.