And at the time for the banquet he sent his servant to say to those who had been invited, "Come, for everything is now ready." - Luke 14:17
Have you ever made something from scratch—a cake, a meal, a table? There is something special about the words “I baked this cake from scratch,” “It’s a family recipe,” or “This is a hand-crafted solid-oak table.” You could have bought the cake from the store, ordered the same meal for delivery, or bought a table from a manufacturer. Still, you gave your time and effort to make it yourself.
God made a savior from scratch. God could have popped into Jerusalem and declared, “Everyone is saved!” Or even had a full-grown man formed out of the dust ride into Jerusalem and get crucified. The gospels would be a lot shorter if this were how God worked. However, all those details about Jesus before the Holy Week accounts tell us something important about God and what He wants us to learn from Jesus.
In Sunday’s gospel reading, you can almost see Jesus rolling his eyes at the disciples’ lack of understanding. James and John act like teenagers in a school cafeteria, trying to reserve the best seats next to the coolest kid.
But Jesus tells them, “You do not know what you are asking.” Jesus shares with them the key to being his followers: it’s not about being first, coolest, or at the top of the hierarchy. It’s about serving.
The cake is special because it was crafted carefully with love for someone special. The meal is delicious because it is cooked with a family recipe passed down from generation to generation through relationships. Jesus is who he is because he built relationships with the disciples and those he met. He sat with the woman at the well, held little children, and went fishing with his friends. Loving relationships led him to the cross to make salvation from scratch.
“So must the Son of Man be lifted up,” Jesus says. There is a double meaning to this. Just as God told Moses to raise a bronze serpent on a pole to effect healing for the Israelites (Numbers 21:4-9), Jesus will be lifted on the pole of the cross. It is a horror to consider this happening to anyone, but so much more when the victim is the perfect Holy One, God in the flesh. It confronts us with our rejection of God, in how we treat other human beings, and in how we dehumanize ourselves by following our sinful impulses—what Ephesians calls “the passions of our flesh” (2:3).
This is not the only meaning of Jesus being “lifted up,” for “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” The cross is more than the humiliation of Jesus; it is also his glorious exaltation. The crucifixion of Jesus is his coronation as Lord of all, who rules by grace and mercy. By defeating death in the resurrection, he will indeed disrupt the status quo of shame, violence, and greed through the power of love, truth, and peace.
This was prefigured in the story of poisonous serpents. When the people looked at the emblem of their sin, a bronze model of the snakes that poisoned them after they grumbled against the Lord, they were healed.
So, when we turn to the Crucified One, we do not find condemnation but salvation. Beholding the Savior lifted up on the cross by our sins, we receive mercy and healing. In the death of Jesus, God forgives and embraces us with eternal life. In the proclamation, prayer, song, and sacraments, we remember and affirm that the crucified yet exalted Christ extends saving love to us and the world.
Just three months ago our country was swept up in its annual homage to getting and spending, once again allowing a consumer culture to define the season and overshadow its gracious and holy center.
The dismay felt by some over the "hostile takeover" of the holy days leading to the celebration of Christ's birth may parallel Jesus' disgust at what he found in the outer courts of the temple during Passover, the holiest season of the year for Jews. Instead of an atmosphere of devotion and reflective preparation, Jesus encountered retailers and profiteers. Holy space and holy time were marred by a misdirection of focus and attention.
Lent provides an opening for Christians to claim holy space and holy time with few distractions from the culture. Intentionally keeping company with God during these forty days can serve to draw us more deeply into the mystery of what it means, or could mean, to live and believe as people baptized into Christ. Personal and communal prayer, regular study of the scriptures, worship, and sharing in the eucharistic meal are all means by which we learn to recognize and welcome the presence of God among us. These disciplines provide a framework for encounters with a God who will outlast our temporary fascinations with all those things that vie for our devotion.
The Israelites who congregated at the foot of Mount Sinai when Moses received the Ten Commandments knew that they stood in the presence of God. In the temple Jesus boldly challenged those who had forgotten that they, too, stood on holy ground, to turn their attention back to the proper object of awe and worship. We, too, may need to hear this challenge—this invitation—as we strive to welcome and honor holy space and holy time this Lent. We do so, knowing that we stand in the gracious company of our risen Lord.
Jesus’ journey to the cross and resurrection begins with His baptism. As the church journeys with Jesus through Lent and toward Easter, we each remember our baptism and our life in Christ is renewed.
At the Jordan River, God the Father stops at nothing to declare Jesus beloved. Not even the sky can cloud the message. The Father tears open the heavens and proclaims it loud and clear. Now, each time we dip our hands into the font or trace the sign of the cross over our bodies, we remember this promise anew: “You are a beloved child of God.” Nothing can separate you from God’s love.
Immediately after baptism, Jesus must contend with Satan and wild beasts in the wilderness. Then, before Jesus’ ministry begins, John is arrested. Mark the Evangelist doesn’t give the fact more than a passing mention at this point in the story, but John’s arrest and subsequent death make for a trauma that comes at a crucial moment in Jesus’ life. How could Jesus begin his ministry after all he had been through? And how are we, who have experienced temptation, torment, or trauma, to journey on?
The journey is not easy for Jesus, nor will it be for us. But it’s amazing what is possible when you know just how beloved you are by God. How long must the voice of the Father have echoed in Jesus’ mind after that baptism day! Perhaps the angels whispered in his ear while waiting on him: “You are beloved. With you God is well pleased.” We return to the waters every Sunday because we can never have too many reminders. When times get tough, we can trust in the promises of God made to us in baptism. This is a flood that saves us. These waters bring new life out of death. God’s love will stop at nothing. Today, remember just how beloved you are!
There are transfiguration moments in everyday life that can absolutely stop us in our tracks with the glory of Christ’s presence: The smell of a new baby. Flowering trees blooming in the spring. The embrace of a friend when we need them most. Voices were raised in cries for justice. The bravery of difficult conversations. The sacred minutes just before death. It may not be Jesus in dazzling clothes or a visit from the ancestors on a mountaintop. Still, by God’s grace, we perceive the love of Christ shining brightly in these ordinary yet holy moments.
When they happen to us, what are we to do? When in the presence of the holy God, it can be difficult to know quite what to say. Peter, grasping at straws, offered to make three dwellings. You can’t blame him—we all make weird choices when terrified! But a voice came from heaven: “Listen.” It is not necessary to do or say anything. This moment is simply a gift. Our job is only to listen to Jesus.
Have you ever spent time just listening? Maybe outdoors, on a hike, or in a park—listening to the sounds of creation. Or during a quiet moment in worship—the sound of cars driving by outside, your neighbor breathing, or your heart beating. Perhaps you have listened compassionately to a loved one who didn’t need advice but needed to be heard.
As people accustomed to doing, we can find it challenging to just listen. We may have learned that it is important for us to have something to say, something to offer, something to provide. But the good news of grace is that Christ’s love has come to us even before we could do anything. That’s why we baptize even helpless infants. That’s why, when we come to communion, we do so with hands outstretched and empty, ready to receive: “This is the body of Christ.” All we can do is listen... and say, “Amen.”
