Sermon on Mark 1:9-15

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

As we begin Lent, we’re back to the beginning of the Gospel of Mark. We’ll be traveling with Jesus this season from the beginning of his earthly ministry to his death, and then, well, you know what comes next.

But for now, Jesus gets baptized by John, spends time in the wilderness, and then begins proclaiming the good news around Galilee. In the next verses, he’ll collect some followers, get attention for his ability to cast out demons and cure people, and we’ll see him begin that action and reflection cycle we talked about a couple weeks ago. He’ll take time alone to pray and reflect away from the crowds he ministered to and will come away with a stronger sense of his mission and next steps.

His earthly ministry starts, though, with his baptism. God tears open the sky and speaks Jesus’ identity to him: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

As we talked about at the very beginning of this year, Jesus hadn’t done anything yet at this point, and yet God was well pleased with him. His identity, not his actions, made him Beloved.

It’s only when Jesus is grounded in his beloved identity in baptism that he can withstand what he experienced in the wilderness. The Gospel of Mark doesn’t give us many details the way the Gospel of Matthew does. Mark simply says, “He was in the wilderness forty days, tested by Satan, and he was with the wild beasts, and the angels waited on him.”

The concept of wilderness is important in the Bible: from Hagar and her son Ishmael running away from Sarah and Abraham into the wildernessto the Israelites wandering in the wilderness for forty years to Elijah fleeing into the wilderness to save his life and many more stories. And all these people encountered God in the wilderness.

As much as our reading names Satan and wild beasts and angels as Jesus’ companions in the wilderness, it’s the Spirit that drives him out there. So, God’s presence is surely there with him too. The wilderness is a place where people encounter God.

In the wilderness, the distractions of daily life are stripped away, and our reliance on God is made clear. Now that Jesus had affirmation of his identity and belovedness, he was ready to spend time focused on God.

And we see what comes of it: when Jesus returned, he “came to Galilee proclaiming the good news of God and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’”He knows what he’s here for, and he’s ready to begin his mission of sharing the good news of God with the people around him. And after this, he’s ready to start teaching others to do the same.

It's only once Jesus was grounded in his identity as Beloved and had spent time focused on God that he dove headfirst into his mission of spreading the good news.

We, too, need that grounding in our identity as beloved children of God and that clarity of mission that comes through time spent in prayer and discernment.

Living fully into God’s mission for us isn’t easy. It goes against the grain of so much in the culture around us. It’s costly and difficult. Loving our neighbor is way easier said than done.And still, we each have a unique contribution to the Beloved Community, Jesus’ way of justice, love, and abundance.

It's easier to live your life from day to day, going with the flow, doing what’s expected of you without question than it is to slow down and carve out time to really listen to what God has in store for you and then to do that.

Lent can be a wilderness for us. It can be a wilderness in time instead of space, and we can seek to quiet the distractions of our ordinary lives. We spend a lot of time trying not to be alone with our thoughts. How often do we pull out our phoneswhen in line at the store or put on music while doing the dishes or busy ourselves with pretty much anything so that we don’t have to be alone with ourselves?

Let’s find some simplicity this season—not for simplicity’s sake, but to counteract the noise and busyness in the world around us and in our own heads. When we stop filling the silence, we can make intentional choices about what to spend our time, energy, and resources on.

Instead of seeing Lent as a time of deprivation or restriction, let’s look at it as a time of simplicity for the sake of orienting ourselves toward what God has in mind for us.

We can use Lent to practice meeting God in the wilderness—as free as possible from the distractions we fill our lives with.Like Elijah, once the cacophony of the world around us quiets, we might find God in the still small voice.

Whatever happens this season (or any season), remember that you are a beloved child of God, and nothing can change that. It’s a truth you can hold onto in the wilderness times of your life.

And when you are in a wilderness time, whether it’s the season of Lent or a period of difficult circumstances or an existential crisis, it’s okay to wrestle with God. It’s okay to have questions, doubts, and frustrations. Having good questions is a mark of strong faith, because you’re curious and not willing to simply accept what you’ve been told. It’s good and faithful to wrestle with God.

In that wrestling, you might figure out your unique contribution to the Beloved Community, to making earth a little more as it is in heaven right now. There are so many amazing people in this room and among us virtually. You all have such important qualities that the world needs, like compassion, generosity, honesty, insight, and creativity. This season is about listening to God about why your gifts are needed in this place and this time.

And it’s a lot easier to listen to God when we pause some of the distractions that fill our lives. People of faith have been using practices that help with that for millennia. Sacred reading practices, meditation, ways to move our bodies in prayerful ways—there are so many tools that can help us slow down and listen to God. Let’s explore some of them this season, together and individually.

Beloved children of God, you are loved beyond measure.

But there are so many in the world who don’t feel loved.

God has given you specific gifts with which to love the world.

Let’s spend this season listening to how God wants us to use those gifts.

Rest in God’s love, slow down enough to listen to God’s dreams for you, andhelp share God’s vision of a justice-seeking and compassion-fueled Beloved Community.

Rest well, embrace the wilderness, and share God’s abundant love.

Lent Sermon on Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

There’s always some irony in reading this passage from the Gospel of Matthew on Ash Wednesday. Jesus encourages us not to show off our spiritual practices but to let them be just between us and God:

Give anonymously, pray privately, fast inconspicuously.

And we read this passage on the one day of the year when we do a spiritual ritual that involves something visible on our foreheads. It’s one of the few days of the year when our faith tradition is most conspicuous—written on our bodies.

Likewise, there’s some irony in Ash Wednesday falling on Valentine’s Day this year. One of our most solemn and somber holy days falls on the day our culture celebrates romantic love.

Our mortality and our sentimentality coexist this year.

But there’s also something fitting about all these contradictions and strange pairings. Because all of it is about relationships.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus teaches us how to relate to God. This isn’t about salvation; Jesus has already taken care of that. God loves us forever and nothing we can do will make God love us any more or any less.

And,now that God has given us that gift, we get to respond. In our reading, Jesus teaches us a way to respond to God’s amazing grace. How we respond by learning about God, delighting in God, and thanking God is called “discipleship:”being a lifelong learner about our grace-filled God. That’s what our reading is about.

Jesus teaches us that discipleship isn’tabout being holier-than-thou with our neighbors. It’s not about making sure we get a pat on the back from our colleagues or making our rivals jealous of how our bodies look after restricting what we eat and calling it fasting. It’s not about how we’re perceived by others. It’s about quality time with God.

This is where there’s some overlap with Valentine’s Day. If I take my spouse out on an elaborate date tonight just so I can post it on social media and make people jealous but I’m not actually doing it out of care, regard, and love for my spouse, that’s going to be pretty obvious to him, and that’s not going to earn me any brownie points. My performance of love is not the same as love.

It's the same as discipleship. Performative discipleship that makes me feel holy and better than other people is not discipleship.

So, let’s set aside some of our expectations of what Lent “should” look like.Let’s let this season be about relationship instead of restriction orshame.

This is all between you and God. You and God get to decide what’s right for you in this season. I have suggestions, but feel free to disregard any of them that don’t feel right.

Feel free to try something new. Do you normally give something up? Try taking something on instead. Or vice versa.

This year at First Lutheran, we’ve been exploring the theme of Sabbath. If you’re inclined to take on a Lenten discipline this year, I encourage you to try different restful practices. See what they do for your well-being and the way you notice God in your life.

Are you feeling physically tired? Maybe finding time for a nap or some meditation or taking time to rub lotion into your tired hands and feet before bed would be helpful.

Are you feeling mentally tired? Maybe do something methodical like doodling while listening to relaxing music or taking a walk.

Are you feeling emotionally tired? Can you call a friend once a week as your Lenten discipline? Or maybe journal for 10 minutes a day as prayer?

Are you feeling spiritually tired? What would it look like to read scripture in a different way? Do you normally read small chunks? Maybe try reading more at a time. Or if you normally read quite a bit, try reading a single verse over and over. Or try a spiritual practice you don’t frequently do:light a candle, pray for your neighborhood on a walk, pray out loud or silently or write it down or draw your prayer.

There are so many options. If you’re having trouble choosing, talk to me—I’d love to brainstorm with you.

My hope is that you’ll find what works and doesn’t work for you, what helps you notice God more and what distracts you from God.

This Lent, how can you slow down and notice how God is working in your life?

Our powerful God created the whole universe and then rested.

God provided for God’s people in the wilderness so they could rest.

God included restful practices in the Law so that God’s people would rest and remember that their freedom came from God.

God in Jesus took time apart from the crowds to rest and pray.

God invites you, too, to rest and to enjoy God’s company.

On this day when we remember both love and mortality, let’s remember to use the time we’ve been given well. Let’s use it for love. I’m going to borrow poet Mary Oliver’s words and ask, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Sermon on Mark 9:2-9

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

The Transfiguration is, in my opinion, one of the weirdest stories in the Gospels—maybe in the whole Bible. We’ve got Jesus lit up like a glow stick, long-dead ancestors in faith, a supernatural cloud and a voice from heaven. And then all of it goes away as quickly as it happened. It’s no wonder Peter, James, and John were a little overwhelmed.

But let’s start at the beginning. Our reading opens with the words, “six days later.” Whenever we see a context clue like that, it’s worth reading back a little to see what it’s talking about.

In this case, Jesus had been walking around with his disciples, and he asked them about what people were saying about him and then what the disciples said about him. Peter had his glorious moment and said, “You are the Messiah.” If Peter felt half as good as I feel when I give the right answer when called on in class, he must have been feeling amazing.

That is, until Jesus started telling his disciples that he would suffer and die and rise again. Peter, perhaps emboldened by his correct insight, wasn’t having it. And Jesus said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Ouch.

Jesus then went on to address his followers with a teaching about denying oneself and taking up one’s cross to follow him.

Our reading today begins six days after these conversations.

Poor Peter never did anything in moderation. He went from correctly and reverently naming Jesus’ identity to getting scolded for trying to derail his mission.

Maybe getting invited, along with James and John, to go on a hike up a mountain with Jesus took a little of the sting away. Or maybe it felt like getting marched to the principal’s office.

When they made it to the top, we could perhaps say “all heaven broke loose.” Jesus started glowing and had a conversation with Moses and Elijah. I wonder if Peter, James, and John thought the air was a little thin up there and they were hallucinating.

They, understandably, started freaking out. It says, “[Peter] did not know what to say, for they were terrified.” But, instead of saying nothing, Peter blurted out, “’Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us set up three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’”

And yet again, poor Peter got scolded—this time by a suddenly-appearing cloud and a heavenly voice. “’This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’” This echoes what the heavenly voice said at Jesus’ baptism, but instead of talking to Jesus, saying “you are,” this time the voice spoke to the disciples, saying “this is my Son, the Beloved.”

And then, everything suddenly went back to normal. They went back down the mountain, and Jesus swore them to secrecy until after he had died and risen again.

Like I said: weird story.

But what stuck out to me this time, in light of our Sabbath theme, was Peter’s anxiety.

Poor Peter just couldn’t contain his anxiety about what was going on in front of him. He couldn’t just stand there and watch—he needed to do something.

So, he makes up a job for himself. “Let me set up some tents for you!”

But in doing so, he’s deciding how Jesus should be honored, when instead God’s voice says, “listen to him.”

Instead of taking in this amazing conversation and being awed by everything he’s witnessing, Peter makes the experience about “doing” instead of “being.”

Peter would miss out on a once-in-history event if he went foraging for materials to make tents.

What God asks instead is that Peter and James and John listen to Jesus instead of guessing what he would like from them.

How often do we guess what God wants from us instead of slowing down and listening to God?

We read last week about Jesus taking some time by himself to pray and coming away with a fresh understanding of the next steps toward his mission. Maybe Peter and James and John needed to follow Jesus’ example.

And maybe we do, too.

Most of us won’t experience a “mountaintop” encounter with God as dramatic as the one in our story.

But as we end this season after Epiphany, when God made Godself known in Jesus, what if we expect to experience God in our daily lives? How would we move through our day differently? Would we slow down and pay more attention? Would we look with extra kindness at the people we encounter if we expect to see Jesus reflected in their eyes? Would we treat the sunset like the gift from God it is?

I heard about an artist who set up an event space outdoors with a red carpet and chairs. People lined up and took their seats… and then watched the sun set.

If we had to buy a ticket and get dressed up, we might pay more attention to the sunset. If it only happened once a year, we would clear our calendars. If it only happened once a generation, we would take vacation time and travel to a mountain peak to watch that breathtaking moment. But we forget the beauty that is around us every day. It becomes commonplace.

Sometimes, just changing the way we perceive something—like having a red carpet for a sunset—can help us appreciate it and the One who created it.

And sometimes, like Peter, our urge to do something instead of just soaking it in can cause us to miss out on the wonders of the universe we live in.

One of my favorite movies is Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium about a magical toy shop and its quirky owner. At one point, he and his assistant are waiting 37 seconds before something is going to happen.

The assistant says, “Now we wait.”

And Mr. Magorium responds, “No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.”

We can’t actually appreciate every single second of our lives. We would probably crumple under the pressure of paying that close attention.

But,what if we tried to be 1% more attentive today to the world around us? What if we opened ourselves to awe just the tiniest bit?

It could change our lives. It could change the world.

And it doesn’t require doing anything. In fact, quite the opposite: it requires not doing.

As we transition from learning about Sabbath this season to practicing Sabbath rest during Lent, don’t let doing get in the way of being. Listen to Jesus, the Beloved. Let yourself be moved by awe.

Pause, notice, wonder, and be in awe of our beautiful Savior.