Lent 5B

Even as we come down the homestretch of Lent, even as we realise that next Sunday is Palm/Passion Sunday and the start of Holy Week, the readings for this morning continue the theme of covenant that has been so prevalent this entire Lenten season. At the same time they speak of covenant (particularly the first reading), they also remind us that our faith is not an individualistic faith but one that is lived out in community. The adage says there is strength in numbers; surely there is strength found in a community of believers that can aid the individual during those difficult moments on the faith journey.

The reading from Jeremiah contains the only Hebrew Scripture reference to the new covenant, the way in which God will transform people’s hearts. Jeremiah’s vision of a new future and covenant comes through and beyond the suffering that was the people of Israel’s fate during the Babylonian exile. These hopeful words come from a time of crisis and transition and indicate that God’s response is not one of judgement or condemnation but one of love.

Chapters 31-34 of Jeremiah, the ‘little book of comfort,’ contain announcements of restoration. Jeremiah’s initial words, ‘The days are surely coming,’ stress that whatever happens is a future hope. Referring to the previous covenant made at Mount Sinai following the Exodus (which the people broke), and those with Noah, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Jeremiah reminds the people that all these covenants happened at critical moments in the life of the community. Whenever transitions and changes brought life and faith into doubt, it was time for a new covenant or renewal of the existing one with God. Out of the old comes the new. All involve promise and hope.

Jeremiah’s language is particularly intimate, speaking of God taking the people ‘by the hand,’ as ‘their husband.’ The word that stands at the center of the passage is ‘covenant,’ a special kind of relationship in which both parties pledge themselves to one another. The law is written on the person’s heart. God’s vow is persistent: ‘I will be their God, and they shall be my people.’ All the people had to say in return was, ‘We will be God’s people.’ Making this covenant with God was a communal act, the work of the community of faith. Salvation is worked out in community as much, if not more, than individually.

We have to be clear that though the Hebrew word for ‘covenant,’ ‘berît,’ is translated into the Latin, ‘testamentum,’ from where we get ‘testament,’ Jeremiah’s text is not talking about the new covenant superceding the existing one. His text is not about Jewish/Christian covenants; rather it is about God’s continually seeking to bring God’s people back into relationship with God.

John’s gospel also speaks about a new covenant, a new way of being with God that comes through Jesus’ dying and rising again. Using an agrarian image of the seed falling to the ground, dying and bearing much fruit, then Jesus speaks about his death. His words come at the end of his mortal life. He has shown his followers seven signs, the last one being the resurrection of Lazarus. Now he and his disciples are in Jerusalem. From this point on, Jesus will talk about his impending death and resurrection, deriving from such a difficult message one of hope. Speaking to some Greeks who wish to see Jesus, and be with him, he tells them that when he is lifted from the earth and hung on the cross, he will draw all people to himself, extending to them the universal hope of eternal life found in Christ.

The way to this eternal life is by losing life to find it. The writer of John makes the contrast between earthly and heavenly life. Letting go of those mortal things to find the heavenly is how one finds Christ. Just as Jesus dies to bring others to life, then must also the believer of Christ have to die to those things in life that separate us from Christ so that one may grasp eternal life.

The way we can do this is through our covenant, that of baptism, and in community. It is far harder to let go of things alone than to walk with companion pilgrims, who are trying to do the same.

And the letting go of earthly things is not just material; it is those things that hinder our living out to the fullest the covenant that God has given us. What is this covenant? Simply, ‘I am yours, and you are mine.’ The laws written on our heart, the grains that die to become fruitful, are simply to love God with all our heart, mind and soul, and to love our neighbour as ourselves.

Our vestry spent yesterday morning on retreat. We had a fruitful three hours of talking about what our priorities might be, how might we get there, and how we might live into this new covenant we have established locally, that of a partnership between congregation, priest and diocese. We are living into a new covenant here at Trinity, one that will challenge us, but at the same time, God willing and our hearts being open, will nourish and feed us. You should know that there was a lot of energy around the table as we talked; they vestry worked hard in a short amount of time and modeled transparency for one another. You will be hearing more about our mini-retreat from your vestry members. Feel free to ask them, too! (Vestry, raise your hands.)

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You will hear me talk about Oscar Romero, the archbishop of San Salvador who was slain as he said the mass 29 years ago on the 24th of this month. He is an influential voice for me for his commitment to and love for the people of his country. The verse from the gospel of John, ‘Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit’ is on the top of a large poster/mural that was propped up against the wall in the crypt where Romero’s tomb used to be before officials moved it. It is impossible not to read the words and understand to what extent this man internalised this verse. His message still is universally received—judging from the amount of flowers that are by his tomb each time I visit, Romero still is a powerful guide. He understood that by dying to mortal life, we find an unquenchable hope in eternal life with Christ. The way we come to this hope is through the fruits of justice.

Romero said, ‘When we have spread human dignity, unity and freedom—in a word, all the excellent fruits of nature and our effort—throughout the earth in the spirit of the Lord and in accord with his command, … human nature will be free…, illuminated and transformed…. This hope transforms Christians. We know that every effort to improve society, above all when society is so full of injustice and sin, is an effort that God blesses, that God wants, that God demands of us.’

You and I in our own way, in this community of Trinity, in the larger community of Rutland, and throughout the many circles in which we live, move and breathe, are called to work toward a more just society, a society that operates out of love, not shame; out of justice, not injustice; of accountability, not punishment. When we work for these things, then we die to a life of sin and find a life of grace. The grain dies to bring forth new fruit. The covenant with God is re-established.

Saint Francis had the following conversation with God, recounted in this short poem.

God came to my house and asked for charity.
And I fell on my knees and
cried, ‘Beloved,
what may I
give?’
‘Just give love,’ God said.
‘Just love.’

May God grant us the grace to do the same.


[photo: little by little, I am adding things: here, an icon of the Theotokos of the Streets]