Genesis 15: 1 – 12, 17 – 18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3: 17 – 4: 1; Luke 13: 31 – end
In the last week I happen to have had two conversations about Jerusalem. One of my fellow-curates who I trained with was staying with me last week. He had visited the Holy Land earlier this year. The visit started in Jerusalem, where he said he could feel the tension in this place which Christians, Moslems and Jews all claim as their holy city. As a Christian he was struck by the very rigorously patrolled prohibition on praying near the mosque on the Temple mount. When he reached Galilee and Nazareth they seemed much more relaxed. I also had a conversation with a local rabbi, who said that Jerusalem is his favourite city. He talked about a new place of prayer which has been developed recently near the Temple Wall where men and women can pray together instead of having to be segregated. He also spoke about meeting a remarkable Christian woman who is working for reconciliation between the three faiths.
Jerusalem is at the centre of our Gospel today. Jesus has set His face towards the city. The journey may be slow, and full of incidents on the way, but Jerusalem is His goal. It is the place of the Temple, the heart of the faith; also, as He grimly remembers, the place of most resistance to God, where prophets are killed. There’s a sense of both urgency and of danger. But Jesus trusts entirely in His heavenly Father and he continues his journey in obedience.
Taking up the motif of journey, we might ask ourselves. What is our destination this Lent? And where is our trust centred? We could think of Lent as a kind of pilgrimage.
As we heard in our first reading, Abram had been called out from the land of Ur into insecurity. He had become a nomad. Now he has no children and no settled land. He is called to trust God, who promises both that his descendants will be many and that ultimately they will settle in a homeland of God’s choosing. His destination is so far off that he will never see it, although he will see his children.
By contrast, a pilgrimage always has a destination. And we know where we are headed with Lent. We’re called to accompany Jesus through His passion and death to the glory and joy of the Resurrection. On the way there are sure to be incidents of all kinds. Life throws things at us; sometimes very difficult things. We sometimes feel insecure.
But we can also choose to set out on a journey during Lent; perhaps to face our own insecurity or perhaps to confront something that tends to divert us from our journey with Christ. One of the collects talks about this choosing in these words:
“God of glory, the end of our searching,
help us to lay aside all that prevents us from seeking your kingdom,
and to give all that we have to gain the pearl beyond all price…”
Our Psalm today also gives us encouragement:
“One thing I have desired of the Lord which I will require: even that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord and to visit his temple.” (Psalm 27: 4)
Later it talks about the inner prompting to a spiritual journey:
“My heart hath talked of thee, Seek ye my face: Thy face Lord will I seek” (Psalm 27: 9)
You may already have decided what it is that you need to lay aside for Lent. Or perhaps Lent may be more a time for discovering what it is just now that gets in the way of your relationship with God. What are your distractions, the things that take you off up a cul de sac or in the wrong direction however much you are committed to the journey?
If we feel hopelessly distracted just now, we can perhaps take comfort from this writer, who reminds us that, with God, we can always make a fresh start. Here’s what she says:
“My journey is always just beginning, a fresh new day
On an old, old path.
That’s the blessing, that’s where the hope blossoms.
However much I wandered yesterday
I can start again tomorrow…”[1]
Jesus doesn’t seem to have had our tendency to get distracted. What gave Him his sense of urgency, His ability to keep going despite the dangers ahead, was His absolute trust in and obedience to His Heavenly Father. It must have been like an internal compass needle, constantly keeping Him in the centre of His Father’s will. Our Psalm puts it like this:
“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear: the Lord is the strength of my life, of whom then shall I be afraid?” (Psalm 27:1)
So Jesus dismisses the Pharisees’ warning about Herod. They can tell that “fox” about the miracles of healing he’s carrying out. They can tell him that nothing is going to prevent Jesus from finishing His work or reaching His goal. Even His knowledge about Jerusalem, as the city which kills the prophets, while it saddens Him, will not deter him because He shares His heavenly Father’s longing for the city to return to God.
As we continue our own Lenten journeys, let us also take comfort from the words of the Psalmist:
“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear. The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom then shall I be afraid?”
Amen
[1] Mary Fleeson, from Pocket Prayers for Pilgrims, p 27