Scripture:

Today's reading from Genesis tells the story of how God promises to Abram and Sarai that through them, an everlasting covenant will be established. The vision is far reaching. But the reality is that they are both in their 90's, and their child rearing not to mention child bearing days are over. But God insists. And to demonstrate the change that is about to occur, God declares to Abram and Sarai that they shall have new names for they are beginning a new chapter in their lives. Hear now this remarkable proclamation of astonishing hope, as I read from the 17th chapter of Genesis, verses 1-7 and 15-16:

When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the LORD appeared to Abram, and said to him, "I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. [2] And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous." [3] Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, [4] "As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. [5] No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. [6] I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. [7] I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you. . . . [15] God said to Abraham, "As for Sarah your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. [16] I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her."

In the middle of Mark's Gospel, Jesus asks his disciples who they think he is. Amidst their abundant confusion, Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah. It is the first mention of Jesus' identity. What I am about to read immediately follows Peter's declaration. Within moments of being the only one who realizes who Jesus is, Peter's understanding of what it means to be a Messiah is turned on its head. Peter cannot accept that the Messiah will be rejected and killed. He does not understand the cross. And so, although he knows who Jesus is, he has much to learn about what this means. So do we. Hear now the Good News, as it comes to us from the 8th chapter of Mark, beginning with verse 31:

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. [32] He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. [33] But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

[34] He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. [35] For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. [36] For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? [37] Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? [38] Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

SERMON:

Last week the weather channel showed a patch of road in North Dakota, virtually free from the snow and ice which has gripped the region all winter. These were the best conditions in weeks. Then, they interviewed a driver who told a terrifying tale: he had been driving just after dawn on that same stretch of highway when he let down his guard, and suddenly, without warning, his car began to slide sideways on the pavement. Terror erupted made all the more intense because the road had appeared clear. What would he hit? Were other cars behind him? Just as quickly, he re-connected with terra firma and a veneer of security offered passing assurance.

After Peter pronounces that Jesus is the Christ, he suddenly hears that his friend will be rejected, and then he will suffer and be killed. For Peter, it is like hitting a patch of black ice. Attempting to reestablish his sense of control, Peter steers Jesus off to the side. He says in effect: "Hold on; this cannot be. Messiahs aren't treated in this way." Peter tries to convince Jesus that someone had passed him the wrong script.

Jesus' response leaves no room for ambiguity. "You are setting your mind not on divine things, but on human things." Get with the program, Peter and the program is not what you think! Deny yourself . . . take up your cross . . . and follow me!

In today's reading from Genesis, Abram's encounter with God is no less shocking. God promises Abram that in spite of being very old and regardless of his wife Sarai's advanced years they will have a son, a son who will become the father of God's people who will be as numerous as the stars. So ludicrous is this encounter that the old folks are told to name the child "he laughs."

Lent is filled with "black ice" passages teachings, stories, exhortations which come upon us unexpectedly, and spin the world around in the most dangerous of ways. All the landmarks which anchor our lives are suddenly out of reach. Like it or not, the unrelenting paradoxes of God's world are thrust in our face.

Those who would save their life will lose it, and those who would lose their life will save it.

Just when you think you're making progress as a Christian, you hit a "black ice assertion" like this and find yourself skidding out of control. In this second week of Lent, as Jesus gives notice as to his ultimate destination, we encounter the cross. It is the cross which lies at the heart of God, and if we are to understand our God, we must understand the cross. Beyond this, we learn that since the cross is at the heart of God, it also lies at the heart of all who would be disciples of this God.

There is so much from the Christian faith that I, and all of us, embrace as Good News. Can it be that this, too, is Good News? That in the end, our call to be cross-bearers is redemptive?

Were it up to me, I would prefer being a torch-bearer to being a cross-bearer.

• With my torch, I can proclaim hope that the reign of God is upon us.

• With my torch, I can illuminate the dark path that leads from emptiness to fulfillment.

• With my torch I can expose sinister acts of injustice, and inspire a burning commitment to the truth.

But my torch will go out. We don't have to turn to the worlds of CEOs, top flight litigators, or Olympic heroes to find examples of once bright now dark torches. We have ample illustrations right here among those gathered this morning to worship God.

And here, amidst the community gathered for worship, lies the key to this mystery. While there are some among us who gather here on Sunday morning who are blessed with a bright torch, they do not come only to display it; and while there are some among us who are seeking to re-ignite their waning light, they have not come only for inspiration.

What distinguishes those who gather to worship God on Sunday mornings from those who stay home is neither their strength nor their weakness; neither their optimism nor their sense of tragedy; neither their achievement nor their experience of emptiness. We who gather to worship the living God recognize [1] that what lies at the heart of human experience is the cross the bittersweet encounter of conflicting claims of person against person, of human life against life divine. The very structure of the cross symbolizes these thrusts, and reminds us too that in the center, all conflicts are overcome, and unity reigns.

How do we come to recognize that the cross lies at the heart of human experience? This gradual revelation comes in three stages:

• First, we must recognize the presence of the cross throughout all of life;

• Second, we must join in community with others to discern the cross we are being called to bear;

• Finally, we must accept the promise of abundant life which is ours when we welcome God's power in place of our own. Now let me flesh out these three stages.

To acknowledge that the cross lies at the heart of human experience requires of us fearless honesty. In accepting the cruciform nature of reality, we abandon all claim to the nostalgic desire that the world might really be "pure light." We befriend the inevitable realities of death, disease and tragedy; we bid farewell to a world where talent, struggle and commitment will always bring home a gold medal. Reality has a cruciform shape.

Although I know this truth, and believe it in my bones, there is much in me that resists the contradictions; much that attempts to avoid the tension, avoid feeling torn between poles, avoid living on the cross. The Old Testament is full of people who resist God. Even Abraham laughs in God's face when promised that he will become a father. And later, Abraham bargains for Sodom and Gomorrah after God has determined to destroy these cities, and thus wins for Lot his freedom. Abraham's grandson, Jacob, wrestles through the night with God. In the Gospels, no one resists more passionately than Peter, as shown in our reading for today, when he rebukes Jesus upon hearing for the first time about the cross.

I suspect that I'm not the only one in this sanctuary who resists the path God sets before me. But even in our resistance, there is good news. God can use any part of us, including our weakness, to magnify God's power. If we are to learn in this way, like Peter, we must we must undertake some rigorous self-examination of a particular type:

• some refer to it as learning from our shadow side;

• others would say that our best teachers are our most formidable opponents;

• still others would acknowledge that when we become angry or incensed about something just then, we have the greatest opportunity for growth. These paradoxes are also part of the cross.

There is another reason we resist the cross. We want to protect ourselves from those experiences which masquerade as would be crosses, but are not given by God, and appeal to an unhealthy part of ourselves. There is no formula to distinguish valid crosses from those that lead to unending darkness. But I believe that once we acknowledge that the way of life is the way of the cross, and once we engage our natural tendency to resist this truth, an authentic struggle will lead us down an authentic path.

Here it is crucial that we share with others our struggle to identify the nature of the cross we are to bear. If we go it alone, we will fall prey to our greatest weaknesses and temptations. However, such candor between people is rare, even between people who have joined their lives to one another. In my experience, the fearless honesty of which I speak is most often prompted when people recognize that their lives are at stake. Of course, this is what Jesus taught: that our lives are at stake as we attempt to live out a life in the spirit. Outside of Christ's teachings, I would add that people who gather at AA meetings also do this kind of work on a daily basis.

What comes next? If we come to recognize the truth that life has a cruciform shape, and if we are completely honest with ourselves and acknowledge the ways we tend to resist this truth, what comes next? The next step is acceptance acceptance of the cross.

If you have experienced the loss of a loved one, as I have over the past year and a half, perhaps you also experienced this pattern of resistance followed by acceptance. The path of grief leads from resistance to acceptance. Those who follow the way of the cross walk a similar path, because the way of the cross is a way of dying. We are called to lose our lives for Jesus' sake. In accepting this path, our illusions are destroyed; our false dependencies are taken from us; we accept the fact that we are not in control.

In this way, the way of the cross takes us to a place of powerlessness. We relinquish our grip on determining our future, and in so doing, open ourselves to a new form of power the power of powerlessness. This is the great mystery at the heart of the Christian faith. Jesus, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr. each lived out this mystery. So do many of the people in this sanctuary. Accepting the cross involves:

• setting aside our preoccupation with our own powers;
  
  
• placing that preoccupation on the cross that it might die;  
  
  
• and then realizing that there is room within us to allow the power of the Almighty to flow through us.

For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. [36] For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

Life, in all its fullness, takes on new dimensions of meaning when considered in the context of Christ's charge to "take up [our] cross and follow me." The change is similar to the new attitudes and possibilities brought about by Copernicus when he convinced his contemporaries that the sun, not the earth, was at the center. No longer is the notion of "life" burdened with the weight of being "ours."

• The "abundant" life promised by Jesus Christ (John 10:10) is a life lived in the confidence of the resurrection.
  
  
• It is a life in which we tap powers even greater than those manifest by Jesus (John 14:12) because we open ourselves to the power of the Almighty which is promised us.
  
  
• And the abundant life is a life poured out for others yet one in which our whole self is also fully affirmed.
  
  

During Lent, we are invited to take up our cross. It is the work of all disciples, initially done by Peter, now turned over to us. Taking up our cross involves three steps: recognizing what this invitation entails; resisting our inclination to accept the call too quickly, so that we might join with others to discern the authenticity of our particular cross; and accepting the promise of abundant life, which is ours when we welcome God's power in place of our own. If we can just begin this journey together, we shall have an exciting Lent indeed!

Footnote:
1. The three part analysis of the way of the cross draws from Parker Palmer's The Promise of Paradox (Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, IN; 1980), pp. 45-57