Led by the Spirit in the Wilderness
The Gospel Reading for the First Sunday in Lent will find us with Jesus in the wilderness. But perhaps a desert landscape is already a familiar place for us after two years of a deadly global pandemic. We don't need a Lenten season to tell us anew about wandering or feeling lost. We may feel stuck in a perpetual Lent, one in which, it seems at times, Easter might not be on the horizon.
The wilderness setting of Jesus's temptation caught my attention this week because of Luke's introduction (Luke 4:1) to the story:
"Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness..."
Does Luke mean to say that the Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness? That the Spirit caused these forty days of wrestling?
or
Does Luke mean that the Spirit led Jesus while he was in the wilderness?
Two different activities of the Spirit there: initiating, controlling, nudging presence or sustaining, nurturing, continual presence.
Perhaps we need both. But, at this particular moment, I'm yearning for that second option: the Spirit's presence in the midst of our wilderness. Much emphasis is placed on Jesus's actions in this story and rightly so. But I'm pondering the role of the Spirit at the very beginning of the passage, before the temptations. "Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit." Newly baptized (Luke 3:21-22). Led by the Spirit.
What does a Spirit-filled and Spirit-led Lent look like?
Lead us, O Spirit, through our wilderness to the waters of life.
Guide us, O Comforter, through our barren lands to the source of hope.
Humans from the Humus
This notion of humanity's origins within the humus occurs in Genesis 3 within a list of punishments given to the serpent (Genesis 3:14-15), the woman (3:16), and the man (3:17-19).
"by the sweat of your face, you will eat bread
until you return to the ground since out of it
you were taken; for dust you are
and to dust you shall return."
The concept of 'returning to the dust' is not viewed here as a divine punishment. Humanity doesn't return to dust because of our disobedient actions in the Garden. The punishment on the man concerns the amount of work he will need to expend in order to bring forth food from the earth.
The phrase instead explains the situation of humanity as a result of the divine creative process. Humanity comes from the ground: 'adam (the Hebrew word for humanity) comes from 'adamah (the Hebrew word for ground). Genesis 3:19 is simply stating "facts" as they are known previously in an earlier chapter. Genesis 2:7 mentions this dust for the first time: "The Living God shaped the human out of dust from the ground and breathed into the human's face breath of life, and the human became a living self." Taken together, Genesis 2-3 envision humanity's origin and destiny as dusty.
The use of this phrase on Ash Wednesday reminds us of our humble origins, as groundlings from the ground, as well as our final fortune. It reminds us of our humanity, our finitude, and ultimately our death. The connection between the phrase, “for dust you are and to dust you shall return,” and death is strong in our contemporary culture. We use these words at funerals, and they are often interpreted on Ash Wednesday in relation to our deaths. But we must remember that the ancient Israelite anthropological vision sees dust, dirt, and earth as connected to our creation as well.
In death, we return to the place where we were formed.
The Lenten season helps us grapple with not just our destination. The emphasis does not have to be on “and to dust you shall return.” There's the initial phrase from our litany as well: "For dust you are." We can focus on “what does it mean to be dust?”
How are we dust formed by the Living God?
Of course, eco-theologians and scientists have been reminding us for years that we are stardust, billions of years in the making, originating from supernovas.
Hear the good news of Ash Wednesday: we are humans from the humus; we are made of stars. Grounded in the good earth, composed of the sky.
Invitation To A Lenten Practice
The succinct words of Jane Shaw invite us into a three-fold Lenten practice:
“we turn to look at our self and our life; at our relationship with God; and at our relationship with others." Jane Shaw, A Practical Christianity: Meditations for the Season of Lent (Morehouse Publishing, 2012), xvi.
It is the third practice that animates this newsletter. During Lent, we turn to our relationship with neighbors and friends, with acquaintances and enemies. Of course, these encounters will only strengthen our relationships with self and God. But it is perhaps a weakness of many Lenten disciplines that they do not include attention to our fellow humans. We are encouraged to connect with ourselves and God, but what about our neighbors? Given our disconnection from so many during this time of isolation and quarantine, I wonder how we might attend to reconnection during this season. I'm looking forward to a Lenten practice of rekindling some face-to-face conversations, of sitting down with family for long conversations.
Perhaps we find God most clearly in the turn toward our neighbor.
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
My colleague at Louisville Seminary, Dr. Justin Reed, has written a helpful commentary on this Deuteronomy passage (the First Reading for the First Sunday in Lent) on the Working Preacher website.
I am particularly struck by these words:
An unforgettable element of this recitation is the role of God in their salvation and blessings. God is the one who hears their cry, acts to save them, and ensures their arrival in “a land flowing with milk and honey” (Deuteronomy 26:7–9). Since God played such a central role, it is only right to show reverence and celebrate God. Of course, all memory is selective. This recitation does not call upon the people to proclaim a history of their ungratefulness and times when God retaliated against them or wanted to abandon them (Exodus 16:2–3; 32:7–9; Numbers 11:18–20, 33). However, it is important to note that this selective recollection is not part of a program of erasing the turbulence of their relationship with God—those details are preserved elsewhere in Deuteronomy (1:26–46; 9:7–29)—but rather a way to emphasize the core of God’s nature. Although God may be many things in many circumstances, this creed highlights God as the God of liberation.
This early recitation of faith by Israel highlights God's responsiveness to God's people. God heard their voice and saw their affliction.
A Benediction (Or Miscellaneous Thoughts)
1. I would appreciate help in spreading the word about this newsletter. So, if you know someone who might like to read it, forward this email to them.
2. Do you know the brilliant work of Cole Arthur Riley?
3. You can read a web version of this issue at www.uncleishmael.com