Second Sunday in Lent: Genesis 17:1-7,15-16 and Mark 8:31-end
In yesterday’s Guardian, Monica Heisey explores what she calls the ‘joyless trudge’ or the British obsession with ‘going for a walk’. She captures the refrain that perhaps we recognise from our childhood or being amongst friends: Where are we going? On a walk!
In lockdown, walking - without a particular destination in mind - has been a way to exercise, spend time with a friend, get away from the computer screen and relax. Whether it’s on the Heath, at the Welsh Harp or a circuit of Sunny Hill Park, we’re spoilt for choice when it comes to walking
Yet, Heisey, such activities are aimless - ‘no destination, only journey.’
At this early point in Lent we are invited to walk: to walk before God; to walk the way of the cross.
And perhaps, like the journalist, we worry that that can be a joyless trudge; and yet our readings are inviting us to stay with the journey, even when the destination is uncertain or even unpalatable.
We’re invited to in the way of the cross; and to allow its light to be good news.
Abraham and Sarah - Marc Chagall
Today we are invited to walk with Abram and Sarai as they face a new beginning.
The journey begins at an unexpected and unlikely moment.
Their journey thus far has included the companionship of the life together; but also the reality of childlessness. Whether through choice or circumstance, the social pressures and expectations of parenthood are still recognisable to us today - for men and for women.
The ‘I am’ of God speaks into this place of ageing at a time when life seems short; when the light of hope grows dim.
I am God. I am God inviting you to walk before me.
To walk with me; to be with me; to be blameless. To let go of shame and fear; of stigma and isolation. And to walk.
To begin a new journey.
Image: artist unknown, found here
This invitation to walk doesn’t have a clear destination; but it full of promise.
This covenant is exceeds all that Abram and Sarai could count or imagine.
Where life seemed limited, now there is an everlasting covenant.
Where hope grew dim, now there blazes a multitude of possibilities.
One couple, becoming exceedingly numerous.
An old man, an ancestor to a multitude of nations.
An old woman, blessed mother of many peoples.
I am God. Walk before me.
Be blameless: love, trust, hope. Walk.
This is the covenant of God: a commitment to mercy and blessing and life.
That commitment to walk in God’s way of love are not always comfortable or straightforward.
Peter discovers that in a painful way today. A few moments before the conversation we hear today, Peter had placed his faith and trust in Jesus - he had declared who he was.
He named Jesus as Messiah; the I am of almighty God in our midst.
But then Jesus begins to teach the disciples that this way of being with us, of walking with us, would involve suffering.
He speaks of rejection, suffering and death.
Peter protests.
He speaks from the heart.
He speaks out of the human instinct to protect the one he’s chosen to follow, listened to, and place his hope in.
He speaks of the human instinct to hold on to his understanding of what it meant to be Messiah; to the image of saviour as an all-conquering hero.
This is a painful moment. Peter rebukes Jesus because he cannot bear to hear let alone understand what is being said; to register the shock of this suffering love is hard.
It is a painful moment. Jesus rebukes Peter - but also keeping the disciples and each one of us in his gaze. For it is too easy and tempting to set our hearts and minds on human things.
Jesus takes up the cross: image here
Jesus is inviting us to think afresh about the ways of God; about the way God’s very self is revealed in vulnerability.
It is only by focusing on the person of Jesus that a relationship begins; that we can come with our misunderstandings and questions, hopes and desires.
And here, in the company of the one who is God with us, glimpse mercy and truth. Catch the drift of the radical change he brings.
For hear we see God at the heart of the world; at the heart of what we experience. God is at the heart of the suffering, pain, confusion and uncertainty.
God is there and, in the words of Rowan Williams, is transforming it ‘by the sheer indestructible energy of his mercy’.
The cross bearers of Holy Week: image source here
Like Peter, we are invited to keep going. However hard it is at times to make sense; however many questions we have, we are called to follow.
To follow the energy of this mercy, and there to find life.
To let go of the dazzling prizes of the world, and to find life.
To recognise the force of God’s love, and to find in it new life.
The God who invited Abram and Sarai to walk before him, is the God who is the ground of our being.
Today, we are invited to see the ways in which Jesus changes what can be said about God.
If this is where God is - walking the way of the cross - then God’s love and mercy cannot be overcome or squeezed out by injustice, suffering and loneliness.
Is walking this way a ‘joyless trudge’? No.
Is there no destination, but only journey? No.
This walk, this journey is infused with the light of God’s light.
A steady light that sheds light on the world around us.
A light that calls us to recognise the dignity of every human being; and to trust in the energy of God’s mercy.
Walking in cross light reminds as that in Jesus, God goes to the very heart of human experience; and there, at our weak point, brings life.
Walking in cross light delivers us from the circumstances or choices which bring sorrow; and instead invites us to be part of a story that speaks of good news and a new world.
God comes to the weak point and says this is not the end; comes to the place of sorrow and embraces us; to the place of regret and forgives us.
We are to walk - remembering God’s tender mercies and loving kindness.
We are to walk - remembering that God’s mercy and love bring life, hope and forgiveness.
Let us pray to the trice holy God to have mercy on us as we walk in cross light.
Holy God.
Holy and strong.
Holy and immortal.
Have mercy on us.
© Julie Gittoes 2021