Thirsty Land, Thirsty People

ON THE CHURCH calendar, the entire month of March is devoted to Lent—a period of self-examination as we follow Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem to confront the powers who have usurped Yahweh’s temple for their own purposes. Examining our own motives and desires, our private resentments and need for control, is one of the hardest tasks we can ever do. But there is no better time than Lent to deal with our own egos as honestly as possible. Time and time again I hear of family members or friends who are estranged from each other over money matters or misunderstandings. It reminds me of C.S. Lewis’ story The Great Divorce, when various characters would rather take the bus back to hell than reconcile with a brother or sister.

Besides interpersonal relationships, there are societal sins in which we participate. What is our responsibility to the community in which we live? What policies would best help the homeless or relieve unnecessary cruelty in the criminal justice system? How much should we change our lifestyles because of impending climate change? How does love of money and power affect our relationship with Jesus who laid them aside to identify with “the least of these”? Our lectionary readings for this Lenten period of self-examination range across both testaments and different genres of literature. References to sin and law are prominent—but so are the antidotes: confession, repentance, forgiveness, and grace.

March 1

Repentance Is Hard

TEMPTATION, SIN, CONFESSION, repentance, and forgiveness—or resisting temptation from the start? For those who engage Lent as a time of self-examination, these readings provide two examples, one from each testament. Psalm 32, attributed to King David, most likely refers to his own sins of adultery and murder. But after David repented and experienced forgiveness, he was able to eloquently express both the misery of the conviction of sin, and the rush of relief and wild joy that accompanied confession and repentance. You would think people would try repenting more often.

In Matthew 4:1-11, we learn that even the most intense temptations were resisted by Jesus, the “Son of David.” In the wilderness, Jesus confronted the voices within. “Use your power for yourself!” the tempter urged. “Change these stones into bread—like Yahweh made manna in the desert!” “Show your power to those big shots in Jerusalem! Then come up the mountain, and I will show you all the kingdoms of the world. They can all be yours ... if you worship me.” Don’t think the human Son of David did not struggle hard against these thoughts. At that very moment, Roman soldiers were occupying his land. What aspiring king, president, or politician could have turned down such an offer?

Truly repenting of sin is hard. Resisting temptation is hard. When have you repented of a sinful act and found forgiveness? When have you found the support—of friends or angels—to resist temptation?

March 8

Singing Migrant Songs

SOMETIMES A BRIEF text like Genesis 12:1-4 cries out for a larger literary context. Before Yahweh calls Abram to migrate, Abram’s father Terah has already moved the extended family from “Ur of the Chaldeans” to Haran in northern Mesopotamia. Perhaps with such an extravagant promise of national greatness (verse 2) to a childless couple, the second move was easier.

The following paragraph (12:5-9) depicts Abram’s entire household gradually migrating south through the land of Canaan, building altars to Yahweh at sacred sites they encounter. We must imagine a small crowd constantly making and breaking camp, pitching and collapsing tents carried by donkeys, searching for food and water for livestock, watching for hostile locals. And walking, walking, walking ... on dusty, stony paths with calloused feet bereft of Nikes. The paragraph ends with Abram setting “out toward the arid southern plain, making and breaking camp as he went” (12:9).

The founders of the Jewish people were migrants following a promise far vaguer than the hopes of current migrants and refugees fleeing famine and violence in search of better lives in Europe or America. But even as Lady Liberty lifts her torch to welcome immigrants to America after walking many miles, they meet border walls, an ICE-y greeting, and detention camps where families are separated.

Psalm 121 is a song of pilgrimage. “The Lord will protect you on your journeys, whether going or coming” (verse 8). How can the people of Yahweh—migrant or local—fulfill God’s promises today?

March 15

On the Jesus Trail

OUR LENTEN SELF-EXAMINATION should include reflecting on our capacity for compassion. How deeply can we share in the lives and suffering of others? In Exodus 17:1-7, the Israelites are walking through a desert and complaining to Moses that they are dying of thirst. “Is Yahweh with us or not?” they ask. After conferring with Yahweh, Moses takes his miracle rod and strikes the rock for abundant water.

Although this text criticizes the Israelites for arguing with and testing God, I cringed at a much harsher account of this event in Psalm 95. “For forty years I despised that generation!” rants Yahweh. “These people have twisted hearts!” (verse 10). Where’s the compassion?

Last April I walked the 65-kilometer “Jesus Trail” in the Galilee region of northern Israel. On the first day, between Nazareth and Cana, I nearly collapsed from dehydration. My partner made me rest and drink lots of water before we continued. Since that physically demanding hike, I now can identify with Israelites in the desert, as well as with Jesus and his disciples traveling everywhere on foot (without water bottles?).

When Jesus stopped by Jacob’s well at noon and asked a Samaritan woman for a drink (John 4:5-42), he was probably as exhausted and dehydrated as I was. I doubt his first thought was about class, gender, or theology. Water from that well enabled Jesus to engage this woman in a profound reflection on living water.

Use these Lenten texts to examine your own ability to empathize with others.

March 22

A Humorous Break

THE STORIES OF Samuel anointing David and Jesus’ healing of the blind man can serve two purposes. They provide a humorous break in our serious Lenten self-examination—as well as a reminder to comfortable Christians that “the last will be first, and the first will be last” (Matthew 20:16).

In 1 Samuel, the prophet’s expectations of who should succeed Saul as king were all wrong. Yahweh chooses that grubby teenager hanging out with his family’s flocks and thinking about how to compose Psalm 23!

Following this theme, the blind man healed by Jesus proves to be the most self-assured and witty character in John’s gospel! As a beggar, he is a drag on the local economy. Worse, the townspeople and even the disciples view his disability as evidence of sin (9:2). The process of healing takes several steps of “blind faith,” but the man returns from washing mud off his eyes, not knowing who healed him but ecstatic that he can now see. Then begins an intricate dance of reversals between those who are blind and those who can see. Read the six scenes from John 9:8-41. The detective work of the Pharisees proceeds with increasing humor as they keep losing the debate. “I already told you,” says the man to the Pharisees, “and you didn’t listen! Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples too?” (verse 27). Don’t miss Jesus’ clever retort to the Pharisees (verse 41).

March 29

Sibling Discipleship

IN 597 B.C.E., the prophet Ezekiel was deported to Babylon in the first wave of Jewish exiles. The vision of scattered bones coming alive became a metaphor encouraging the scattered Israelites to rise again as the people of Yahweh. Perhaps, we are familiar with James Weldon Johnson’s version of “Dem Dry Bones,” a song that gave hope to enslaved Christians and their descendants in the American South.

Ezekiel 37 is often read in connection with Jesus’ raising of Lazarus in John 11. Yet the latter is not written as metaphor, but as an integral part of the plot leading to Jesus’ historical death and resurrection. Deep emotion and irony pervade this long narrative dominated by Martha and Mary. Only Jesus’ most intimate disciples dare reproach him for not getting there in time to save their brother (verses 21, 32). In this gospel, Martha, not Peter, first names him “Messiah” (verse 27).

But if this dramatic miracle is historical, why do the synoptic gospels omit it? New Testament scholar Richard Bauckham suggests a political reason. The Jewish temple leaders also wish to kill Lazarus (John 12:9-11) because of their hatred of Jesus, so Mark, the earliest gospel, omits the story for his safety. Using Mark, Matthew and Luke also omit it. Written years later, after that generation has died, John’s gospel can freely portray how Lazarus became a harbinger of Jesus’ own bodily resurrection.

For self-examination: Ponder the mutual love between Jesus and these siblings (Martha, Mary, and Lazarus). How intimate is your relationship with the risen Jesus?