February 15, 2015
Sixth (Last) Sunday After Epiphany
Rev. Amy Welin:
Under the right conditions, snow for Valentine’s Day could be romantic.
Picture the snow quietly falling on the trees and lawn as you gaze out the window, sitting close to your beloved, enjoying a nice cup of cocoa or glass of wine. A glowing fireplace warms the room behind you. You are amazed and uplifted by the overwhelming power of love. Love is enough as it fills your heart and all is right in your world. The romance of fantasy.
The reality of Valentine snow may also be romantic, in another way.
Picture the wind-driven snow blowing across our lawn and driveway, as my beloved and I shovel out the cars. The hills of Connecticut are buried in a cold white shroud. There is a bit of whining. The glow of the spotlight over the garage door illuminates the towering piles of snow. I am amazed and not uplifted by the overwhelming power of nature. Winter is winning and I harbor no charitable thoughts about snowmen or ground hogs. I love Greg enough to shovel the driveway with him. And it is only love that gives us the courage to face the snow, cold, and winter together. The romance of reality.
This snowy Sunday, we might need to sing our alleluias, to remind us that the real love and power of God can transform the grimness of our lives into rejoicing. But we cannot linger in the alleluias, because Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent. We need to move forward, through Lent and toward the new life of Easter.
We end the season of Epiphany with Mark’s account of the transfiguration of Jesus. Up on the unnamed mountain in Galilee (probably Hermon or Tabor), praying with three disciples, Jesus begins to shine with a blinding light. He speaks with Elijah and Moses, the two greatest prophets of Israel. It is clear that Jesus is the beloved Son, the Christ. This is a real alleluia moment in which the identity and powerful love of Jesus are revealed.
Jesus does not want Peter to linger in the alleluias. There will be no shrines or tents, only a long journey into Jerusalem. In the next section of this gospel, Jesus reveals to his followers that he must suffer and die. It is a difficult and unwelcome teaching. Jesus moves forward into the rest of his ministry, and he brings his disciples with him. In Jesus’ eyes, it is not enough that his followers linger in the good feeling of the love that God has for them. They need to, they must share that love with the world.
We are on our own sort of long journey to Jerusalem. We are traveling through a season of uncertainty,
guided only by the light given to us by Christ. We do not know how our personal lives will unfold. We do not know how the story of St John’s will change this year. What we do know is that God is willing to travel with us, guiding us if we are willing to listen and to see. What we do know is that God will give us what we need to sustain our souls, if we are willing to accept that gift.
Here is a Valentine truth: It is good, and still not sufficient, for us to know and delight in the great love God has for us. This has been a good remediation of the poisonous image of a punitive God, and it is not enough. God needs us to return that love in a very real way. God wants us to fall so deeply in love with Christ that we need to share that great love with the world.
We will journey from the alleluias of today into the ashes of Wednesday. Whether we make it to church or not, we begin Lent with an outward reminder of the imperfection of our lives. We let go of the alleluias and we start to walk forward. Our lives will inevitably include elements of suffering and death, which are difficult and painful and unwelcome. And in that dreadful valley, when the alleluias are buried and invisible, still we walk along with Christ, although we may not see his light when we are blinded by our personal season of darkness. It is love that will sustain us in the valley.
And finally we will emerge from the season of ashes and repentance into the season of new life in Christ. This season of resurrection is as inevitable as the spring. New life may emerge when we have stopped looking for it, like crocuses growing through the snow. And the gospel will have a more profound meaning for us. We will experience the alleluias in a very new way, because we will know better how to love God in return.
Cherish the romantic snows of Connecticut, my friends. They point to deep truths about real love, and about the romance in our lives with God.
Amen! Alleluia!