Psalm 25; Genesis 9:8-17; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-13

It was at this time that Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized in the Jordan by John.  And at once, as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit, like a dove, descending on him.  And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you.’   And at once the Spirit drove him into the desert and he remained there for forty days, and was put to the test by Satan.  He was with the wild animals, and the angels looked after him.  (Mark 1:9-13 NJB) 

When I was but a child of 19, or 20, I had a good friend whose name was Tom.   When we first met he and I were attending a small Episcopal Church in North Minneapolis; St. Andrew’s.  Along with a third “Musketeer”, Frank, we helped each other get through some trying times in our lives.   The truth is though that Tom was more than just a friend.  He was quite a few years older than I, and in many ways he was like an older brother to me.  Yet in some ways, and at certain times, he acted the part of the Christian Father that I never had.  Some times that would manifest in his teaching me something, and sometimes by his rebuking and correcting me.  For years I secretly harbored some small resentment over Tom’s audacity at taking that role with me, but until now, I’ve never publicly admitted to it.  The funny thing is I was never certain which aspect of Christian Fatherhood that I resented more coming from him, the correction or the teaching, until now… 

As I sat thinking about the Gospel for this first Sunday in Lent, I considered what I had written last year, about going to the desert and finding a quiet place for quiet and solitude there to find God.  And then I remembered a book that Tom had given to me thirty years ago.  Written by Catherine de Houck Doherty, “Poustinia: Encountering God in Silence, Solitude and Prayer”, was a book that took me nearly 10 years to really “get”.  I’m not certain that I had ever consciously forgiven Tom for that “gift”, until now. 

Poustinia, is a Russian word which means ‘desert’, a place to meet Christ in silence, solitude and prayer.  But in a sense a Poustinia is also the person who has gone into the desert.  When he gave the book to me, one of the things that Tom commented upon was that the Poustinia differed from the typical hermit in that the Poustinia was never intended to remain in the deserted, solitary place.  Rather he, or she, was there for a time, to be companioned with and taught by God, so that he, or she, could return to the other People of God, and draw them ever closer into relationship and communion with God, also.  For some reason, Tom dropped out of my life a number of years ago, when he moved to Boise, Idaho, a locale that geographically is classified as a “High Desert”.  There does seem to be no small bit of poetic justice in this, as surely Tom served as Poustinia for me. 

What truly struck me as I meditated upon the Scriptures for this Sunday however, is how Jesus was and is the Poustinia par excellance.  Immediately after His Baptism in the Jordan, by John, Jesus was driven by the Spirit out into the desert.  There he communed with His Father, with fasting and prayer.  He discovered great truths about Himself, overcame the temptations of “the world, the flesh, and the devil”, and finally was comforted by the ministering angelic spirits sent from His Father.  And when His time in the desert was done, He returned to the world, there to call all men to repentance and draw all men unto Himself, by stretching forth his arms in a loving embrace, from the hard wood of the cross. 

We who have begun our Lenten pilgrimage, who are now accompanying Jesus along His path up to Jerusalem, must also have our time in the desert.  We need that time out in our lives, where we may quietly and profoundly converse with, not just to, God.  As St Peter reminds us in the Epistle today, by the Grace of God, we have been saved through the holy and life-giving waters of baptism.  But this is only the beginning.  We must learn to feed upon the meat of the Gospel and cease being content with mother’s milk, only.   We must “test our mettle” and grow into maturity for only as mature Christians, “little Christs” can we be Poustinia to our world, and that is precisely our calling. 

O LORD, who for our sake didst fast forty days and forty nights; Give us grace to use such abstinence, that, our flesh being subdued to the Spirit we may ever obey thy godly motions in righteousness, and true holiness, to thy honor and glory, who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen. 

+Randolph 

• Okay, I didn’t write the following, but I will post the Archbishop’s weekly meditations here as I suspect that they will form the basis of some of my future comments. (Archbishop Randolph Brown is seated as the Ordinary of the Diocese of Minnesota and the Upper Midwest for WOCA) -Steve

And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves; and he was transfigured before them, and his garments becuame glistening, intensely white, as no fuller on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Eli’ja with Moses; and they were talking to Jesus. And Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is well that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you and one for Moses and one for Eli’ja.” For he did not know what to say, for they were exceedingly afraid. And a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice came out of the cloud, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” And suddenly looking around they no longer saw any one with them but Jesus only. And as they were coming down the mountain, he charged them to tell no one what they had seen, until the Son of man should have risen from the dead. (Mark 9:2-9 RSV)

Quite a few years ago, I got called for jury duty. Unlike reruns of Matlock, or Perry Mason, it’s really boring. On TV and in the movies, there’s always some big surprise which comes up, and high drama is the order of the day. In reality, it’s often tedious, and repetitive. This is especially true when the case you get assigned to is merely a civil case, such as the one I was picked for. It wasn’t a big case by any means, and in my opinion it probably never should have come to trial. It should have been settled long before it came to taking up the better part of a week of our time. But it wasn’t. So, eight citizens of my county were impaneled as a jury (six members with two alternates), and forced to listen to the testimony given in the case of Used Car Dealership Vs. Small Town Bank.

Most of the first day, Monday, was taken up with the actual process of picking a ‘fair’ jury. The pool of prospective jurors was questioned forst by one attorney, then by the other, and finally by the judge presiding over the case. We were asked such questions as, if we had ever worked for or with any of the principals in the case, or whether we have ever had business dealings with any of them. We were then asked questions about our attitudesconcerning car dealers, and banks, etc. Then we were asked if we could honestly weigh all of the evidence presented and impartially come to a verdict, based upon that evidence. Once the actual jury, with the two alternates, was selected, all that was left of that first day was taken up by the opposing counsels presenting their opening arguments. Actual testimony was set to begin on Tuesday morning. The next three days were taken up with listening to one witness after another repetitively stating, over and over, pretty much the same story. The only distinction was that each of them was clearly ’shading’ the truth of his or her testimony to make one side or the other of the case look better and the oponent look worse.

The judge gave the case to us late Thursday afternoon, and we had just enough time to elect a jury foreman, and take a preliminary vote, before we broke for the night. Both sides agreed to allow the two alternates to fully participate in jury deliberations, and this first vote was tied 4-4. At that point, it seemed that the only two things that we could unanimously agree on were that neither party deserved to win, and that nearly everyone had either lied to us, or at least stretched the truth nearly to the point where it became unrecognizable. The next day, we spent almost 6 hours trying to figure out who had been the least dishonest in their testimony, and then trying to assess what proper damages might be. Ultimately the car dealer won the case, but each of us on that jury vowed never to have anything to do with either of the parties, ever. Their word, their testimony, could no be trusted.

That’s the trouble with testifying about something. People do not and should not just take what someone says as ‘gospel’. People judge the truthfulness of what is said against what they already know, or suspect, to be true. They look to their own past experiences to see if there is a common frame of reference to be found there that might reflect positively or negatively upon what the testimony says. And they look at the life and character of the person who testifies to see if there is a pattern or precedent there that can be used to question or confirm truthfulness. The Gospel for today, St. Mark’s record of the Transfiguration brings the Epiphany Season full circle. As it began with the Baptism of Jesus some eight weeks ago, with the descent of the Spirit in the form of a dove, and the voice of the Father, speaking from Heaven, declaring Jesus to be His own beloved Son, so it comes to a close today, with that same voice declaring once again that Jesus is the beloved Son of the Heavenly Father. But the voice from heaven adds one additional statement that was missing from the Baptismal scene at Jordan. Today that voice commands us to also, “…listen to Him.” It isn’t enough to see Jesus glorified, or to hear the testimony of God, Himself, concerning Jesus’ familial relationship. We are commanded of the Father to listen to Jesus; to hear, and learn, and discern the truthfulness of all that He had to say. We are ordered to be still and discover the truth of what St. Paul said when he wrote that “God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself.” We are invited to enter into intimate communication with Him, there to discover the very Mind and Heart of God. As the old saying goes, “The proof of the pudding is in the eating”, and here the Father Himself invites us to prove the worth of His Word; “…to taste and see that the Lord is good!”

Such a message, such an invitation, is especially appropriate this Quinquagesima Sunday, the last Sunday before Great Lent begins. On Wesnesday we begin our annual pilgrimage alongside Jesus, on His final trip up to Jerusalem for the great Feast of Passover. There He will be delivered over into the hands of perverse and wicked men and He will be be scorned, beaten, and put to death for the sins of the whole world. During these forty days Jesus will testify to, and give indisputable proof to, the truthfulness of God’s unlimited love for mankind with every ounce of strength and every drop of blood in His Body. He will confirm the testimony of His Father both by doing all that He has commanded and by laying down his life for the sheep. He will be bruised for our iniquity and take stripes that we might be healed. He, Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, will, for the joy that was set before Him, endure death on the hard wood of the cross. We will see and hear and witness as Jesus makes known God’s commitment to us and demonstrates a Love so amazing, so all encompassing, that death itself cannot contain or constrain it.

During this forty day journey to Golgotha, we, The Church, are called to look honestly at our lives and realize the depth of our personal sinfulness which necessitated so great a Sacrifice. This is the time when we cry out with the Church throughout all ages: “Kyrie eleison!” “Lord, have ,mercy!” It is a time in which we are called to deny ourselves, to fast, pray, and perform works of charity in gratitude to God for all that He has given and sacrificed for us. I invite you therefore to celebrate a holy and life-giving Lent. I encourage you to commit to a strict personal devotion for the Season and to follow along with Jesus, “…to dark Gethsemane”. Just don’t be in a big hurry to get there. He, and we, have a number of stops to make along the way.

O LORD, who hast taught us that all our doings without charity are nothing worth; Send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that mose excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace and of all virtues, without which whosoever liveth is counted dead before thee. Grant this for thine only Son Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.

+Randolph