The Breaking of the Storm

Well, the build-up is on! Lent began on Wednesday and we’re already four and a half days into our relentless journey towards Good Friday and the cross. Only 36 ordinary days and 5 and a half Sundays to go. Only 36 ordinary days and 5 and a half Sundays to go—if we can stand it; if we can hang in there; if we can resist the temptation to rush to the Easter celebration too quickly.

For we’re journeying with Jesus who is well on the road to Jerusalem and well into his ministry. This is the hard slog—the consistent preaching and teaching, healing and transforming, praying and seeking God’s will. This is the journey that keeps going no matter what—no matter that the outcome is clear. This journey is relentless and it moves relentlessly on.

Today, we’re reminded again of Jesus’ baptism, the act that prefigures his intentional ministry, the period of his consistent attempt to hold the kingdom of God before the people of God; and in that reminder, we hear the precursor of the great declaration that we celebrated last week on Transfiguration: "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

And we know that he is impelled into the fullness of his proclamation in word and deed and indeed, in his personhood that "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." It’s not a pretty message, it’s not an easy message, it’s not an obvious message; but Jesus is committed to its proclamation in word and deed and indeed, in his own personhood—all the way to the cross.

We’re in the build-up! And like the build-up of the atmosphere prior to the wet season in the north of Australia, we are waiting, we are yearning for its culmination. Let’s get it over with. Let’s move on. Let’s celebrate the resurrection. Let’s have the rainstorm!

But we cannot do that yet, for we are still in the build-up, the storm hasn’t begun yet even if another storm has broken.

The beginning of Lent marks a break in a storm that we have been riding since Christmas—the celebration of the God who is with us in the joy of a newborn child; in the precariousness of an ancient infant birth; in the day-to-day journey and the beginning of a new year; in the wonderful healing of a miraculous healer.

Here we are at the beginning of Lent and it is not that God is with us is foremost in our seasonal reflections, but the question: “Are we with God?” Are you with God? Are we prepared to make this journey of Lent, this journey towards Jerusalem, this heart-breaking journey to the cross? Are we prepared to give our all for the one who has given all for us? Are you prepared to journey on this relentless journey with Jesus? The storm has broken and we are confronted with a choice—the choice to participate in the next build-up with all its onerousness and inconvenience, with all its hope and disappointment, with all its doubt and fear; or to say “No thanks, I’m happy with the baby in the box and the miraculous healer. I don’t want to go any further. It’s too hard to contemplate a journey to Jerusalem, a journey to the cross. Thanks, but no thanks. I want the easy pleasant Jesus, not the Christ upon the cross.”

Sometimes it’s hard to realise the moments when the storm has broken and we are invited into the change. It’s easier to behave as we were behaving. It’s hard to change our approach to life. If it’s been raining, we know we need our umbrellas and raincoats, but when the sun comes out, we’re quite overdressed. If it’s been sunny, we’re out there in our short sleeves and sun-block—hardly any protection against a lashing storm with occasional hail.

The Seasons of the Spirit material for this Sunday imagines how difficult the transition from storm to new settlement depicted in the story of the landing of the ark would be. When the clouds begin to close in again after they’ve landed, Ham, Noah’s son, wants to get everyone back on board the ark. Noah persuades the boys to change their minds and break the boat up for building materials. The storm has broken, but these boys need a sign. And yes, they get it—in the form of the rainbow, the sign of God’s covenant with humankind.

It would be nice to think we could get back on board the boat of the Christmas wave or even the Transfiguration whirlwind, but God is leading us into a different phase of our lives. This phase requires some hard work—the laying of new foundations, the erecting of new shelters, the establishment of a new community. This phase requires commitment and dedication and stickability. This phase required us to the question, not “Is God with us?” but “Are we with God?” Are we prepared to journey the long, hard road as well as the well-lit boulevards and avenues of Christmas and Transfiguration.

As a sign of our commitment, in Lent, we are asked to give something up or to enter into one discipline of discipleship more fully as part of our commitment to Christ’s journey. Perhaps you choose to give up chocolate, save some money and make a donation to the UnitingWorld for the projects that are highlighted as part of Lent Event. Perhaps you will decide to participate in Alpha or Back to the Basis in order to explore our faith further. Perhaps you will choose to make some changes with how you interact with family members or workmates in order to more clearly communicate the call of God on your life. Whatever symbolic act, whatever sign you choose, it is only significant if it is a sign that marks a change a new direction, a renewed commitment, a re-orientation to the way of Christ—the way of the one who is the very demonstration that God is with us; and also the one who asks us to dare to journey with God.

When we hear the affirmation that Jesus is God’s beloved child; and remind ourselves that that affirmation is extended to us because of Jesus; we are also reminded to hear the commission to ministry in that affirmation—the commission to a ministry that is relentless and leads to the cross.

So do we dare? Do you dare, to notice the change in the weather, the change your clothing for something more appropriate and to say, I stand with Christ, I am prepared to walk with Christ. Yes, there has been a break in the storm, but I am prepared to participate in the next build-up, to enter into this season of Lent, and to make the journey of discipleship all the way relentlessly and inevitably, but never too quickly, to the cross.