28 February 2010

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18
Psalm 27
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Luke 13:31-35

We are barely into our Lenten journey for 2010; not even at the half-way point between Ash Wednesday and Holy Week.  And as we arrive at this point, we hear three Scripture readings that remind us our entire life of faith is a journey.   The first is related to Abraham, who in his 70’s “believed God” and left his home near what today is the city of Baghdad in Iraq, who is considered to be the Father of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity, who dared to believe, against all evidence, God’s promise that one day his descendants would be as numerous as the stars in heavens. The second is Paul’s message to the Christians in Philippi, urging them to remain strong in their faith in the midst of challenges from “enemies of the cross.”  Their journey is like our own: traveling through this life, sustained by the hope of our “citizenship in heaven.”  The third reading -- the one we just read from the Gospel of Luke puts us smack dab into the journey that Jesus is taking. Here we read that Jesus has been on a journey toward Jerusalem for some time, stopping at a number of places along the way.  At each stop he teaches and preaches about the reign of God that is breaking into the world, urging them to live their lives under God’s rule instead of the values and demands of the Roman Empire.

At some point in the journey, a group of Pharisees comes warning him to change his travel plans and instead of continuing on to Jerusalem to get as far away from that city as he can.  The reason?  Somehow they have knowledge that Herod wants to kill him, just as earlier he put John the Baptist to death in a city known for its rejection of those who spoke on behalf of God.

All of these journey stories remind us that we, too, are on a journey.  Our journey began in baptism and at some point in our lives we realized that we were on a journey in which God was calling us conform our lives to the vision that He has for us in our life on earth.  We do not yet see the when or where our journey ends.  But we do have a foretaste of the feast that awaits us and we come to this place to receive bread for our journey and strength to enable us to move through the roadblocks and detours that sometimes impede our progress and challenge our trust in God’s grace and mercy.

This morning, I’d like to add what might seem to be an unlikely story to go with the Scriptures for the Second Sunday in Lent.  It is a story from the pen of Theodor Geisel, the beloved “Dr. Seuss.”  In 1940, he wrote a book entitled Horton Hatches the Egg.  Last Sunday, I had the opportunity to hear it again in the Adult Forum led by Robin Withers, and I’d like to share it with you this morning as a wonderful parable of the Christian life. ( By the way,  the series of discussions on various Dr. Seuss books continues today and a couple more Sundays;  I highly recommend your being part the class as part of your own Lenten Journey

Horton Hatches the Egg is the story of a gentle, faithful, reliable, dependable elephant. One day, walking along and minding his own business, Horton is talked into sitting on nest to care for an egg belonging to a lazy bird named “Mazie.”  Mazie has decided that she needs a break from the tedium of keeping that little egg warm and asks Horton if he would be willing to do it.  Although he is clearly an unlikely prospect for this task, he promises her he will do this.  After carefully gathering limbs to prop up the skinny tree, he carefully crawls out onto a little limb that should not be able to support his weight.  Without a second thought, he gingerly lowers himself onto sit the fragile egg, never considering the possibility that he might break it or that the whole nest and tree might come tumbling down.  He has made a promise that he will keep that egg safe and warm, and he sits there and sits there and sits there -- for what turns out to a long 51 weeks.  Mazie, you see, having conned Horton into caring for the egg, turns her sabbatical into a permanent leave of absence.

So Horton, who assumed he was only going to be an “interim egg-sitter” continues to sit there faithfully, day after day, through the heat of summer, through the falling leaves of autumn, and through the freezing snow and sleet of winter.  A promise has been made, and again and again he reminds himself of that promise: “I meant what I said and I said what I meant; an elephant’s faithful one hundred percent.”

As happened to Job, when his faith was tested, friends (if you can call them that) show up.  But Horton’s friends do not come to argue theology: they come to ridicule and make fun of him sitting up there on that precarious nest.  Then Enemies show up as well.  Hunters come with rifles intending to shoot Horton, but then decide he’s worth more alive than dead.   So they to take him, tree, nest, and all across the ocean to become part of a traveling circus going across the U.S. from city to city  Eventually, the circus comes to Florida, which by coincidence, is the warm place to which to which Mazie has migrated while Horton has been caring for her egg.  She spys the circus from the air and decides to swoop down and see the show.