Lent I                                                                                                    

February 17,  2002                                                                                                  

The Rev. Dr. David M. Wendel                                                                            

Saint Luke’s, Colo. Spgs.

 

Lessons:  Genesis 2:15-17;  3:1-7;  Ps. 32;  Romans 5:12-19;  St. Matthew 4:1-11

 

     Ash Wednesday and the First Sunday in Lent are traditionally times when we’re asking ourselves, “Well, what am I going to do for Lent?”  Yes, we probably should’ve been thinking about that BEFORE Lent began, but hey, better late than never, and we have plenty of Lent to go, so, if you haven’t already, go right ahead and ask, “What AM I going to do for Lent?”

     I have to admit, I get a little frustrated with the whole business.  On the one hand, I hear people making a big deal out of what they’re going to deny themselves of, during Lent.  The big one, of course, is chocolate.  A lot of folks tell me they’re giving up chocolate for Lent.  I’ve heard others talk about giving up ice cream, or fast-food, one family gave up renting videos.  On the one hand, Lent has come to be understood as a season of denying oneself pleasure, so people come up with all kinds of pleasurable things to give up for Lent.  On the other hand, the pop-religious culture is trying to be more positive these days, so in pastor’s sermons, and in newsletter articles, even at our pastor’s theological conference a couple weeks ago, I heard suggestions that instead of denying ourselves; instead of giving up something for Lent, why not take on something—why not take on a spiritual discipline, a devotional exercise:  why not, during Lent, make it a habit to read the bible daily, or to pray morning prayer every day, or to put aside a little money for the poor and needy each day.  Because the traditional Lenten practice of denying oneself something pleasurable, seems so negative, to some today, the idea of taking on some spiritual practice seems more upbeat, if not more modern.  So, that’s another way to think about the question… “What am I going to do for Lent this year?”

     Now, I’m not criticizing either approach, necessarily.  I don’t mean to belittle you for giving up chocolate, if that’s what you’re doing for Lent, and I certainly don’t intend to discourage you from trying to adopt daily bible reading, is that’s what you’ve chosen to take on for Lent.   If you’re settled into a good Lenten discipline, whatever it might be, I applaud you, and encourage you to be faithful in your observance of it.  What I would like to suggest, if you haven’t decided yet, or if you’re not quite sure you see the value in Lenten practice, as it’s most often understood today;  what I’d like to suggest to you, then—is this--an even older Lenten discipline than giving up chocolate or meat;  a more traditional understanding of Lent than denying yourself something pleasurable;  perhaps an even more fruitful discipline than doing daily Lenten devotions!  And what could that possibly be? 

     What I would suggest we do for Lent this year?  Give up sin;  take on God’s forgiveness!

     How absurd, you might say!  How simplistic!  How un-necessary!  Why, we confess our sin regularly, when we say the prayer of confession at the beginning of worship each Sunday—or at least on the Sundays when we show up for worship.  We say that we confess our sin, and then the called and ordained pastor assures us of forgiveness.  Why would anyone suggest that during Lent, we “give up sin, and take on God’s forgiveness, as our Lenten discipline”?  Maybe because participating in the rite of confession of sin on Sunday, is not the same as disciplining ourselves, to give up sin.  Maybe because even when God’s forgiveness is declared to us on Sunday morning, the guilt we feel inside, causes us to say to ourselves, “Well, pastor doesn’t know about me—surely, God wouldn’t forgive ME!”  The fact is, for all of our society’s pre-occupation with positive-thinking, and do whatever you want so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, and I’m OK, you’re OK, we sure still seem to struggle with feelings of shame, unworthiness and guilt.  We sure still seem to carry around with us all kinds of baggage about what we’ve done wrong, whom we’ve hurt, and why we feel we don’t measure up.  We still are not able to experience God’s forgiveness in a way that sets us free, and empowers us to “go, and sin no more!”  And that’s why Lent has always been a time for committing ourselves, seriously, to trying to “give up sin, and truly receive God’s forgiveness”.  That’s why our Lent would be well spent, really focusing on not sinning, confessing ALL our sin, disobedience and broken-ness, so that hearing God’s word of forgiveness, we will know, KNOW that we are forgiven!  And how do we do that?  Giving up burgers and fries, or ice cream sundaes is a concrete, easily evaluated Lenten discipline.  As is daily devotions—you’ve either done your devotions today, or you haven’t.  How do we make a Lenten discipline out of “giving up sin, and taking on God’s forgiveness”?  Our  lessons give us some pointers.

     First, and this is always important when we’re struggling against sin—remember, you’re not Jesus. The temptation, when we hear the gospel lesson for the first Sunday in Lent, is to think that we’re supposed to “be like Jesus”, resist all temptation, and never sin.  The point of the account of Jesus’ wilderness tempting, couldn’t be further from that.  The message of our gospel lesson, is Jesus is sinless—we’re not.  Jesus is the sinless one….we’re not.  Jesus fought temptation, and won.  We are called to fight temptation—but try as we might, we will always have some successes, and some failures.  To think we can be sinless, like Jesus, is idolatry of the worst kind.  Better for us to accept that we do sin, and look to Jesus, the sinless one, for forgiveness of our sin. 

     Second, we must take responsibility for our sin, and sin it AS, sin.  In our first reading, Adam and Eve, our first parents, are ashamed, because they seen themselves as they really are, and stand naked before God and each other—but they also ought to be ashamed because neither would take responsibility for their own actions.  If we were to read the middle part of this lesson, the part that’s left out of our reading for today, what we would hear would be all kinds of finger pointing and blaming and avoiding of responsibility!  When confronted, Adam blames Eve;  when confronted, Eve blames the serpent!  And that’s what has to stop, as we try to give up sin.  We have to accept personal responsibility for ourselves, and our sin.  We have to admit, as St. Paul writes, in our second lesson, that all have sinned—and that we have sinned.  Which means you and I have to look honestly at ourselves, and at our sin.  Not in some kind of Sunday morning, general, vague confession of sin—but specifically, concretely, realistically.  It may be helpful us to take a few minutes, here, at the beginning of Lent, or at the beginning of each week in Lent, to write down the sin that is most troubling to us, and to others.  It may be that we are abusing alcohol, and that creates problems in our marriage and family relationships.  It may be that we are smoking too much weed, as the young people call it, and it’s changing our personality, and making us hard to live with, because we don’t want to go to school, and do our homework, and fulfill our family responsibilities.  It may be that we are being unfaithful to our spouse, and though we know it’s not right, we’ve rationalized that it’s not hurting anyone, and so we’ve let it continue.  It may be that we’re not being 100% honest in our business dealings, and because we’re covering our tracks, no one has noticed.  It may be that our anger, at times, controls us, and we’ve blamed others for making us angry, as if they deserved to be verbally abused.  Giving up sin, for Lent, means facing up to it, as sin.  Not blaming anyone else;  not shirking responsibility;  standing naked, before God, as it were.  That’s the first step in giving up sin.  Recognizing that it is sin, and admitting that it is sin. 

    And the second step in giving up sin, is repenting of it.  Repenting of it, means, turning away from it.  The Greek word, in the Bible, for repentance, is metanoia, which means a literal, mental and physical , turning away from what you have been doing, turning to a new way of life, a new frame of mind, a new pattern of behavior.  And that, of course, is what takes discipline.  Ending the adulterous relationship.  Turning away from alcohol, completely, and maybe getting into AA.  Learning to control your anger, even if it means beginning counseling.  Deciding that you will only be honest and truthful at work, no matter what.  This kind of repentance, takes discipline.  But, that’s what Lent is all about.  True repentance—that seeks to turn away from sin, and make a new start.  Which, by the way,  makes taking up God’s forgiveness possible.  Because sometimes, the reason that we can’t accept God’s forgiveness, is because we’re holding on to our sin, and having really repented of it.  Because, the two do indeed, go together.  Repentance and forgiveness.  Turning away from sin, and turning toward God.  Leaving sinful behaviors behind, and living, anew, in God’s mercy, love, and grace.  It seems to me, there could be no better preparation for the joy and celebration of Easter, than that.  It seems to me, that Lent could not be better spent, than by investing our energy, time, life’s focus, on repentance and forgiveness;  giving up sin, taking on God’s forgiveness.  So, if you’ve not yet decided what you’re going to do for Lent—or if you’ve not quite sure how giving up chocolate, is spiritual preparation for Easter—then why not commit yourself to this:  for Lent, give up sin, take on God’s forgiveness!