5 Lent C April 7, 2019
Luther Memorial Church Seattle, WA
The Rev. Julie Hutson
Isaiah 43: 16-21 + Philippians 3:4b-14 + John 12: 1-8
Beloved, grace and peace are yours from the One who loved you even unto death. Amen.
Let’s try something new.
Depending on what it is, this suggestion can spark curiosity or excitement or dread or resistance.
What do you want for dinner? Let’s try something new.
Where do you want to go for spring break? Let’s try something new.
The treatment isn’t working…Let’s try something new.
Or, perhaps to state the obvious in our context….families in our neighborhood don’t have safe homes. There aren’t enough places for them to go. Let’s try something new.
This Friday, the city of Seattle will celebrate with us the something new that is Compass Broadview as the building is dedicated at the Grand Opening. Whenever I tell the story of how this came to be, my spirit pauses as I begin. Because it came to be because God said something to us that God said to the Israelites in the first reading this morning: “Forget the events of the past, ignore the things of long ago. Look, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth – can’t you see it?” Stories that begin with God doing a new thing are sometimes looked at with skepticism….and yet…..
For a long time it was hard to see….hard to imagine. We had to go out and find others who had walked a similar path and hear their stories in order to imagine this new thing. We heard the story of Ronald United Methodist Church as they partnered to build Ronald Commons. We toured Compass on Dexter and heard the stories of the families who live there. We listened to Bellweather Housing and Compass Housing Alliance as they told us the stories of new ways being made in the wilderness.
Today’s readings are about the newness of God. In some ways, this seems an odd emphasis this late in Lent. When we know that what awaits Jesus is a cross and death. But the point about newness is that in order to have it or experience it or receive it, we have to let go of what is old. Or as Isaiah put it, we have to forget the things of the past.
This doesn’t mean that those things were bad or that they didn’t serve a useful purpose at the time. Instead it means that in order to ready our selves to receive the new thing from God, we must allow what is past to remain there. To quote Marie Kondo, we gratefully consider what gifts it brought to us, thank it, and give it away, in order to make space in our lives for what is new.
With this in mind, let’s consider this question: What must die in our own lives, not because it wasn’t good, but because it is no longer useful, in order for God to work a new thing among us?
What must die in our own lives, not because it wasn’t good, but because it is no longer useful, in order for God to work a new thing among us?
Are there answers that immediately come to mind for you?
What must die in our own lives, not because it wasn’t good, but because it is no longer useful, in order for God to work a new thing among us?
In the Isaiah text today we are given the language around forgetting the past and ignoring the things of long ago. In some ways this can seem a harsh and unnecessary instruction. After all, the past holds, among other things, our very best memories. Here, in this place, some of my favorite photos are displayed in a collection from the earliest days of this congregation. And just like we have an entire room filled with archives, I have many photo albums and keepsakes that remind me of the blessings of this life.
For Israel, what needed to die was their life in captivity. This passage prepares them for their release from captivity. Babylon will be defeated and Israel will be free to return to their homeland. But they have learned to live in captivity. They know how to exist there. And if they are unwilling to look ahead at the new thing YHWH is doing, they will be unprepared to leave captivity.
Isaiah never says the past is bad. But in drawing the eyes of God’s people toward the new thing that God is doing, the prophet correctly notes that as long as they are gazing backward, as long as they are looking at what is past, they simply will be unable to see the new thing God has prepared for them.
The faithfulness of God is found in the stories of their past, but the hopefulness of God and God’s plan for their future, resides only in the new thing.
Paul’s story in his letter to the believers at Philippi calls them to move toward the finish line, and not to look back. He uses himself as example: a finer Hebrew one would not find, he was circumcised, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Pharisee, and above reproach when it came to matters of the law. In his context, those were the things that gave him impeccable credentials. But they were not the things that justified him in Christ. In order to truly know Christ, Paul notes, he must consider Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection. (Aha! A hint at what is ahead for us in this Lenten season).
Paul had to give up his identity in order to see and grasp and live into the new thing that God was preparing for him, the high calling of God in Christ Jesus as he names it. All of those things that made his neighbors speak well of him, all of those credentials he brought into the room….he had to let them go, stop looking at them and turn to see what new thing God had prepared for him. It’s worth noting that while new life in Christ Jesus was the new thing, but it was not the easy thing.
And then the Gospel reading gives us the story of Mary of Bethany. Only in John’s Gospel is she named as Mary of Bethany; in the other three Gospels she is an unnamed woman, her identity uncertain. But for John, her relationship to Jesus is a key part of the story. Mary and her siblings Martha and Lazarus loved Jesus. He was a frequent guest in their home and a beloved friend. And on this night, death hangs in the air around them as they gather for this meal. Lazarus is barely alive after Jesus raised him to life again. And Mary and Jesus know what is ahead for Jesus. The authorities are so angry at Jesus’ actions that his death is almost a foregone conclusion. And so Mary serves as prophet in this story: she acts out what the others won’t even speak. That in order to have the new thing God is preparing, new life, death must arrive first. “When Mary stood before Jesus with that pound of pure nard, for a moment – just one moment- it could have gone either way. She could have anointed his head and everyone there could have proclaimed him a king. But she did not do that. When she moved toward him, she dropped to her knees and poured the salve on his feet which could mean only one thing. The only man who got his feet anointed was a dead man, and Jesus knew it.”[1]
Mary would sacrifice her beloved friend for this new thing, even though it broke their hearts in the process. Mary would name it in a way whose extravagance reminded them all that God’s love and mercy are equally extravagant.
Dear Ones, our community has lived in the possibility of this new thing that God has been doing. It has not always been easy. As we have built homes we lost parts of ourselves from the past. A whole fellowship hall and kitchen. Parking. People. But God was doing this new thing and in order for it to happen, we had to ….we have to….keep looking with hope at what God is doing next.
We are moving toward Holy Week, in these last days of Lent. Let us then, ask ourselves, with Isaiah and Paul and Mary of Bethany….what must die in our lives, not because it wasn’t good, but because it is no longer useful, in order for God to work a new thing among us?
Thanks be to God, and let the Church say…Amen.
[1] Taylor, Barbara Brown. “The Prophet Mary” Bread of Angels.