A Call in the Wilderness, a Creation Care Sermon for Lent
On February 21, GIPL's Executive Director, Codi Norred, preached at Druid Hills Presbyterian Church on Mark 1: 9-15 (NRSV). GIPL rebroadcasted the sermon on Tuesday, March 2 via Facebook, and below, Codi shares the manuscript of his sermon.
9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved;[a] with you I am well pleased.” 12 And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. 13 He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. 14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news[b] of God,[c] 15 and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;[d] repent, and believe in the good news.”[e]
We find ourselves here on the first Sunday of Lent. Following the ceremony of Ash Wednesday in which we are reminded that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, or perhaps we are reminded to repent and believe the Gospel. In any case, Ash Wednesday reminds us of our fragility, and we are invited into the arms of God through a period of fasting and reflection. A 40-day Lenten journey has begun.Traditionally this period of 40 days is observed through fasting, of one sort or another. We give up things in our life; most often we give up the pleasantries of life, for a period of 40 days. For some, the tradition of Lent is framed as a period of repentance, and others a period of refocusing on God by removing the comforts we have grown accustomed to.As I was reflecting on this sermon, and the first Sunday in Lent, the irony was not lost on me that we enter the season of lent, a season of fasting, of giving up, after many of us have given up so much over the last year due to the pandemic in which we still sit.
And it struck me as ironic even still that we might insist on doubling down on the Lenten tradition to give up, to sacrifice, to fast, that we might be tempted to feel like we should strip away even more from our lives, despite having lived for almost a year without being able to hug our friends, our family, to see colleagues, to celebrate births and deaths, to gather in holy places together.If you were to ask me to recite the Gospel story we heard this morning, of Jesus in the desert from memory, I would tell it like this. Jesus went into the desert to fast for 40 days and to be tempted by the Devil. And that is the case, if we were reading from Matthew. Yes, in that story, the spirit leads Jesus into the desert to be tempted by the Devil, and he fasted 40 days and 40 nights, and afterward he was hungry, and Satan tempts him to turn stones to bread.And yet, I am struck by the timing of this Markan text.For here in the Gospel reading this morning, we do not find a Jesus who fasts. We do not find a Jesus who moves into the desert to fast and be tempted. Here we find a Jesus who moves into the wilderness. The spirit drives Jesus out in to the wilderness for 40 days, into the very wildness of God’s original creation, to reflect on his calling after the Spirit of God like a dove descended to meet his brow.So this morning, to be true to the Gospel text presented in the lectionary, I would say fasting should not be our focus. Well, at least not the way we might traditionally think about it. No doubt, we are still in the season of Lent, pandemic or not. So for us, we must ask what does that mean?And I would offer that Lent is less about the actual things that we choose to abstain from during this season. Lent isn’t about giving up a specific type of food, or denying ourselves a particular pleasure, in order to become closer to God. It is not the sacrifice itself that brings us close to God.No, I would say that Lent is an invitation to the people of God to carefully examine all the things in our life that we say yes to, or that we get caught up in, without thinking about it. It is to pick up each piece of our life, hold it up to the light, compare it to our calling, and decide whether to keep it, or to get rid of it.
But the invitation to examine these pieces of our lives, and even to eliminate some of them, is primarily an invitation to examine and remove the things in our life that prevent us from living into our calling. The invitation to the wilderness of Lent is an invitation to remember who you are, who you are called to be, because the work of God will be yours after emerging from Lent, from the wilderness.We live in a society that is built on how much you can produce, how much you can consume, how much you can have. Lent is an opportunity to hear the Spirit’s voice in the wilderness asking us to look at our lives, the choices we make, the systems that we are bound up in. Lent is a reminder that we should take some time to step outside of our routines, or our subconscious choices and patterns, of our automatic yes’s and no’s, to remember our calling.Jesus moves into the wilderness after the Holy Spirit descends on him. After he emerges from the desert, Jesus will go on to begin his ministry. He will to Galilee, He will preach the good news. And so too, the time is here that we must do the same.The Lenten season is a season to remember who we are by stripping away the things we are caught up in because life is hard, and complicated, and busy, and fast, and Lent is the time when we are invited to say stop it. Stop all of it. Take a step back. Breathe.We are invited by God to examine the routines and the choices that we are caught up in. To take 40 days, maybe even a little longer, to think about the patterns that we live into everyday as individuals, as families, as church communities, that we don’t think about, but that are antithetical to our calling to love God, and to love neighbor. That are antithetical to our original call to tend the Garden.
We are invited into the wilderness, upon remembering that we are dust, formed in the hands of God, breathed into that we might come alive. Originally placed in a wild, thriving, creation with the sole commandment to tend the Garden. I do not think it is coincidence that in this passage, the writer of Mark portrays Jesus as returning to the wilderness, rather than the desert. Jesus is returning to a thriving creation in order to reflect on his calling, to be empowered, to remember who he is to be, and ultimately he leaves that wilderness to begin his ministry.So too we are invited to remember who we are. We are God’s people, commanded to care for Creation, to tend the garden. We are to be prophetic and intentional in the ways we live our everyday lives so that our every action is in alignment with our calling to love God, love neighbor, and to love creation. For that is our first call.So, I invite you to strip away the distractions, the ever-present temptations to consume more, to produce more, to stockpile more, and I invite you to think creatively and boldly about what patterns we might change in ourselves to better be who we are called to be. I invite you to think less about what small things you are giving up for Lent, but rather about the very big things that you are called to invest in as a child of God, where will you put your energy to creatively advance a more just and flourishing Creation?As Executive Director of Georgia Interfaith Power and Light, I would be remiss if I did not ask you to reflect on how your callings intersect with the fact that human beings original calling from God is to care for Creation. So then I ask all of us,
Why is it that we are caught up in decisions that perpetuate violence against God’s very wilderness? Why are we satisfied with accepting dirty energy, driving polluting cars, eating animals that are treated unjustly, harvesting food in a way that destroys and poisons the land, turn a blind eye to how our systems of production require environmental injustices, the pollution of water, of air, of living, breathing neighbors, children of God?So sure, we could give up meat during Lent. Or we could choose to conserve more power by limiting technology for 40 days. And those would be good things. But what God is asking of us is for us to examine our whole lives, and the systems we are complicit in, the systems killing our neighbors and our planet, and to emerge from Lent with the courage, boldness, and inspiration to live differently for the rest of the year. Lent is an opportunity to prepare, to see, to remember who we are. Lent is not the 40 days that we choose to live differently. Lent is the 40 days where we prepare and reflect so that we can more fully live into our calling to live differently for the rest of our lives.Lent invites us to remember who we are and who God has called us to be. And I am reminded that we are crafted out of the ground, to safeguard Creation, to love God and neighbor. Take the time of Lent to strip away the systems that we are complicit in, the things that we are often too busy to examine. Look, see, remember. Because if we remember who we are, when we are confronted by evil, like in the Gospel reading, we can see it plainly, denounce it, walk out of the wilderness, and live the Gospel more fully, more holistically, and in truth. May we emerge from Lent with the boldness to live differently, to take some new risks, to ask deeper questions. So, reflect. Who are you? Who has God called you to be? What of the Garden and the Wilderness?_____________________________________________________________________
As Executive Director, Codi continues to lead all policy, program, and outreach efforts, spending much of his spring at the Capitol during the legislative session. Codi has been involved with environmental justice campaigns and the philosophy of sustainability since college. After working as the Social Justice Coordinator for Samford University, Codi continued his environmental work with Oakleaf Mennonite Farm and Emory University’s Office of Sustainability. Codi remains interested in the intersectional relationships between environmental justice and faith as it relates to broader systems of injustice. He holds a Master of Divinity from Emory University's Candler School of Theology.