Today is the first Sunday in Lent, that season in the Church year when we remember Jesus’ own wilderness experience and the temptations he faced during those forty days prior to his entry into Jerusalem. It’s that forty days between Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday when we ourselves are encouraged to examine anew the choices we are making in our lives and seek to be more open and attentive to God’s way. It’s interesting that our first lectionary scripture for this particular Sunday is the story about Adam and Eve. Many Christians view this as "the Fall" or the "Original Sin" that has been transmitted to the whole human race. And they see it as the basis for the redemption and atonement theologies centered in the sacrifice of Jesus. The concept of Original Sin is actually attributed to Augustine at about 400 C.E. Augustine, who has been described as a brilliant but troubled early theologian of the Church, saw the original sin as being associated with lust. We can’t help but think that this is in part a projection out of his own earlier life of sexual dissipation. But unfortunately for many of the early Church Fathers, and for many today this is still associated with and transmitted through our sexuality. This is why the idea of the virgin birth is seen as so important in preserving the sanctity of Jesus’ birth. This thinking , of course, spills over into issues of the use of birth control and condoms and family planning. I say, "good for Colin Powell speaking up on the issue of condoms and AIDS prevention." But this and other stories in the first eleven chapters of Genesis are ancient Israel’s stories of the world’s beginnings – stories that were created to try to explain how things came to be the way they are, including why we don’t live forever, why we have to work, and why women experience pain in childbirth, why snakes crawl on the ground, etc. Biblical scholar, Marcus Borg, speaks of these stories as myths and metaphorical narratives, not literally true, but containing profound truths about human nature, the human condition, and the origin of evil. The story of Adam and Eve, their sin and banishment from paradise is followed by the stories of Cain and Abel, Noah and the flood, and the Tower of Babel, which are meant to explain why pain and suffering, violence and disharmony exist in our world. These writings are saying that something has gone wrong in this world. It’s not the harmonious interdependency of all creation that God intends. And over the centuries the Church and Jewish and Christian scholars and theologians have put forth various understandings of what went wrong. Some emphasize disobedience, others point to hubris or pride and self-centeredness – self-deification and thinking we can go it alone, trying to be like God and exceeding our limits and denying our mortality. This thinking gets mixed up with how far we should go with our human ingenuity and creativity, from whether we should try to fly or split the atom to the current debate over stem cell research and cloning. Other thinkers point to sloth or laziness or "leaving it to the snake," which means to uncritically accept someone else’s idea about how to live. And still others see this as a story about the dawning of human consciousness. We don’t know that the Hebrew storyteller meant one more than the other, but it’s clear that there are many meanings that we can take from this story. And we can assume that the writer is writing from his own self-consciousness, self-knowledge and experience, as well as his observation of the disordered and fragmented world around him. What can we take from this story today as we enter into this Lenten season, this time of looking at ourselves and the world around us, at our relationships with God and one another? We have here a talking snake, which, by the way, was an evil image for the Hebrew people, because snakes played an important role in the fertility religion and worship ceremonies of the Canaanites, Israel’s ancient enemy. So this was an ideal image for the biblical writer. Well, this snake says to the woman, "You will not die. In fact, when you eat of this tree of knowledge, your eyes will be opened and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." And when she saw that the tree was good for food, and a delight to the eyes, and would make one wise, she took some of its fruit and ate it and gave some to her husband. One person in our bible study group this last Tuesday spoke for many of us when she said, "Isn’t that a good thing, knowing good from evil and becoming wise?" There is an important message if you read a little further. It’s a message about personal responsibility, about hiding, blaming and betrayal, and broken relationship. They heard the Lord God walking in the garden, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God. But the Lord God called to the man and said, "Where are you?". And Adam says. "I hid from you because I was afraid." "Have you eaten from the tree which I commanded you not to eat?" Then, Adam really does a bad thing that will seriously hurt his relationship with Eve. He points the finger at Eve and says, "Well, the woman you gave me, she gave me the fruit from the tree." Then the Lord God turns to the woman and says, "What have you done?" And she blames the snake and says, "But the serpent tricked me." And the rest is history! So, the ancient story addresses the fact that something has gone wrong, the fruits of which are alienation, suffering and disorder in our relationships and our world. And the rest of the Bible is largely a story of this human predicament and the need for deliverance; the need to return and reconnect and be restored to wholeness, and to learn justice, mercy and peace (Marcus Borg). Something has gone wrong. It’s all there in the papers this week.
And so it goes. The ancient writers are right – something is wrong! So, Lent is a time for us personally and as a people to take inventory on how we live and exercise the freedom and responsibility we have been given. It’s a time to move beyond avoidance and neglect and become more aware of those things that separate us from God and from one another and keep us from being whole. The Psalm today reminds us of the distress that comes with covering up, and the forgiveness and deliverance that come with acknowledgement and facing up to those things which keep us from experiencing restoration and renewal in our lives and our relationships. So, in the days ahead, these final days of our own wilderness experience, let us be opening our hearts and minds, refocusing on and learning from Jesus. He invited all who would follow him to abide in his love, to participate in the healing of brokenness, to break down the barriers that separate us, and build the beloved, inclusive community. He promises that our love, like his, will bear fruit that will last and transform lives. Eating together was an important part of his inclusive ministry, bringing together any who would come, and often those on the margins. What they experienced in him was love, acceptance, belonging and value. And he calls us to his table, a table that’s open to all, because the love he reveals is a love that reaches out to all and counts all as kin. And it’s a love that casts out fear and makes us whole. The bread of life and the cup of the new covenant of which we are about to partake, are signs of love and forgiveness. Nourished by these elements and our fellowship together, we can experience ourselves as part of that community of love, the family of God. And may this prepare us to experience again the newness of life that comes with Easter. Amen |