On Wednesday, as the disciples of Jesus, we begin our annual Lenten journey with him towards Jerusalem.  Already, the long shadow of the cross casts itself in our direction from the hill of Calvary.  Already, the distant horizon of Holy Week is in view, and we are beaconed to enter the dusty road with our fellow pilgrims and make our way once more towards the source of our faith. 

Behind the shadow of the cross is the brilliant light of eternity, shining forth from the throne of God Himself, and drawing us towards an immortal and transcendent destiny more glorious than anything that we can imagine.  But how do we get there from here?  And once there, being the flawed and earthly beings that we are, how do we stand in the presence of the Ancient of Days?  How do we stand and behold the glory of the One that formed countless billions of suns in His mighty hands, then cast them out across eternity that we might look up at them at night and be reminded of just how small, and petty, and insignificant we really are.  And how many universes does He have that lie beyond this one that is still incomprehensible to us? 

This is the source of our faith.  This is the One that created us and placed us here and gave us the free will to either find our way back to Him, or perish in the delusions of our own grandeur that this same free will allows us. It is these delusions of grandeur that convince so many that humanity is at the center of its own universe, and that the goal of humankind’s existence upon the earth is to exploit every creature, every person, and even the very planet itself to the selfish benefit of the few that are in control:  Those that set themselves up as gods and enslave the rest of the world for their own material benefit:  Those that sit in the seats of worldly power wearing gloves of velvet that we might not behold their fists of iron:  Those that stand in opposition to the truths that we have known since Adam roamed the world and tell us lies:  That sin is relative to the situation, that the end justifies the means, that physical pleasure is the goal of human existence, that there is such a thing as a just war. 

When the complaint arises that this goes against the teaching of God, they respond by twisting the tools of science into a secular religion of their own making that denies the very existence of God.  And so, they convert theologians to this religion of “humanism” and proclaim to us that God, the source of our faith, is dead.  And so, many believe and many turn away from the source of our faith, and we witness a world that sinks ever deeper into the excrement of its own depravation; a world where money is worshipped, where sin of the most heinous kind is regarded as virtue, and where life could not be any cheaper.

 Now it is Lent once again, and Jesus gathers us, his disciples, and prepares us for the journey to the cross.  Its is he that has been sent to lead us back to the source of our faith, to the God that for some unfathomable reason loves us so much that he became manifest among us in the form of his own son that we might be saved:  The God that loves us so much that he took all the sins of the world upon himself and off of our shoulders, that we might be able to stand up before the throne of the Mighty One Himself and not perish before His true grandeur. 

And so we follow Jesus to the cross and we watch in horror as he dies for us; as he accepts the sentence that we deserve and sheds his Precious Blood that our sins might be washed away.  And as we stand there in awe, the shadow of the cross disappears and the brilliant light of God shines forth around us, envelopes us, and as our eyes adjust to the light of eternity we see Jesus standing with us and we are home, reunited forever with the source of our faith.

This is the answer to the second question that I asked, “…how do we stand in the presence of the Ancient of Days?”  We stand before God because Christ stands with us.  Knowing this, we can now ask Jesus himself the first question, “But how do we get there from here?”  He has already answered this for us in tonight’s Gospel, which begins, “Jesus said to his disciples…”  And who are his disciples?  All of us that have chosen to follow him and who now make this Lenten pilgrimage with him to Jerusalem and the cross:  Those of us who join with him tonight in this Passover supper in which he once again offers himself up for us, as he has promised he will do, until he comes to take us home to his Father and ours – the source of our faith, forever and ever.  Amen.

The lesson that he teaches us is that in response to his promise, the promise of the cross that leads us to life eternal, he expects us to live in imitation of the love that he has shown us:  To turn the other cheek, to bless those that curse us, to give more than what is asked, to offer mercy without limit and forgiveness without end, and to love unconditionally absolutely everyone – both friend and foe – to the utmost of our ability. 

He expects us to do this, and the source of our faith requires it.
 

Luke 6: 27-38

27

¹² "But to you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,

28

bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.

29

To the person who strikes you on one cheek, offer the other one as well, and from the person who takes your cloak, do not withhold even your tunic.

30

Give to everyone who asks of you, and from the one who takes what is yours do not demand it back.

31

Do to others as you would have them do to you.

32

For if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them.

33

And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do the same.

34

If you lend money to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit (is) that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, and get back the same amount.

35

But rather, love your enemies and do good to them, and lend expecting nothing back; then your reward will be great and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.

36

Be merciful, just as (also) your Father is merciful.

37

¹³ "Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven.

38

Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you."