From Old
Ways to New Ways: Promised Land, Reconciliation to God, a
Prodigal Hitting Bottom.
Transition
from the old to the new is the focus of the readings for this Sunday. The way things were versus the way things have (or can) become – that is this Lenten
theme.
Joshua 5:9-12.
In the reading
from the Prophets (the historical books = the Former Prophets) the transition
is from the generation of the wilderness age of testing to the age of
self-support in a promised land.
When the
Israelites have miraculously crossed the Jordan River
under Joshua’s leadership (completed in Joshua
4 ), they are initiated into the
possession of the land they have been so long preparing for. The initiation consisted first
(immediately preceding our reading) of circumcising all the males who had been
born in the wilderness, to qualify them for manhood and the status of warriors
in the new land (Joshua 5:2-7). This
circumcision is referred to in our reading as “rolling away…the disgrace of Egypt .”
The verb “roll away” is a play on the
name Gilgal, literally a “circle,” and the first camp site is given that name (verse
9).
The second
act of initiation was to perform the Passover ritual and eat that sacred
meal during the night. Thus, this night
of the Passover is the actual transition between old wilderness world and new
settled world.
The action
immediately following the Passover is given a somewhat emphatic dating: “On the day after the passover, on that very
day…” (verse 11, NRSV )
the Israelites ate unleavened bread.
During the Passover night, the Israelites ate bread made from the grain
of the new land – unleavened bread, since they had no previous dough with which
to leaven the new batch.
Small aside on Unleavened Bread. It takes seven days to make a batch of
leavened dough when you start with grain from a brand new crop. (Moist flour is left out to absorb yeast from
the atmosphere, which is present around the globe, and it takes seven days for
the new dough to ferment.) Therefore,
the festival of Unleavened Bread lasts seven days, starting Passover night! The festival consecrates the new grain crop,
which has to be rigorously separated from any dough of the previous year’s
crop.
At the moment
that the Israelites ate the new grain from the land, the manna that had
sustained them through the wilderness ceased (verse 12). Their eating habits now reflected the
conditions of their new land, and they ate unleavened bread for the seven days
of the battle of Jericho , which
follows in chapter 6.
The
transition from the wilderness to the promised land brings the Israelites into
the fulfillment of the promises made to the ancestors.
Psalm 32.
The change
between the old way and the new way in the Psalm is the experience of sin
and forgiveness, and especially the power and blessing released by
confession of sin directly to God.
What is
pretty much standard language for sin in the psalms is presented in the
two opening verses: (1)
“transgressions,” which need to be forgiven; (2) “sin,” which needs to be
covered; (3) “iniquity,” which needs to be not imputed or “reckoned” to one;
and (4) “deceit,” which must be avoided in one’s spirit (or one’s mouth, in the
Greek translation). The first three
terms are repeated in the speaker’s report of confession to the Lord in verse
5.
The primary
force of the psalm, however, has to be the apparent personal experience
reported. “While I kept silence, my body
wasted away through my groaning all day long” (verse 3, NRSV ). Transgression, sin, and iniquity (sometimes
translated “guilt”) are destructive of vitality, spirit, and health. This speaker finally resolves to confess all
to the Lord – acknowledging sin, not hiding iniquity, and confessing
transgressions. The result: “you forgave the guilt of my sin” (verse 5 NRSV ;
New Jerusalem Bible, “took away my guilt, forgave my sin”).
The rest of
the psalm is lessons learned from this experience, though perhaps in verses 8-9
it is God speaking rather than the forgiven sinner, warning the unrepentant not
to be stubborn as mules who have to be bound and bridled to keep them where
they belong.
II Corinthians 5:16-21.
The change
from a sinful condition to reconciliation with God is the message of the Epistle
reading. The passage is loaded with
powerful phrases, but we will concentrate on the statements about sin and
reconciliation.
First, Paul
distinguishes between knowing someone “from a human point of view” (literally
“according to the flesh”) and knowing someone as “in Christ.”
So if anyone
is in Christ, there is a new creation:
everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! (verse
17, NRSV ).
In this new
state, people have been reconciled to God because God is no longer “counting
their trespasses against them” (verse 19).
This is possible because “for our sake he [God] made him [Christ] to be
sin who knew no sin.” That is, humans
were released from the power of sin because of Christ’s overcoming sin. Sin is understood to be a transcendent power
that grips and controls the wills and abilities of humans, so that they cannot
save themselves.
But “in
Christ” this bondage is broken and humans can become new creations, no longer
having to live “according to the human point of view,” that is, “according to
the flesh.” Even this new creation is
not forced upon people, however, and the apostle must urge his hearers to seize
this opportunity, to “be reconciled to God,” as Christ has made that possible
(verse 20).
The Gospel
reading is the parable of the Prodigal Son.
This parable
is the third and major item in the collection of “parables of the lost” in Luke
15 .
The collection is introduced by the grumbling of the Pharisees and
scribes that, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them” (verse 2, NRSV ). That is, Jesus associates with the “lost
ones.”
We have a
superbly told story. Its emphases, as
indicated by where the narrative spends its time, are on the miserable
condition the prodigal gets himself into, the surprising joy of the father on
the son’s return, and the complaint of the older son who stayed home and
supported the family and its tradition.
The story tells itself – up to the point where we want to apply it to
something else. Only a couple of points
will be highlighted here.
This story is
about the Lost. The whole chapter
is clearly elevating Jesus’ coming to and seeking out the lost – those lost in
the society, lost probably from their own self-esteem, and lost because no one
knows where they are.
These are the
tax collectors and sinners (which includes many disadvantaged but not
necessarily immoral people), from all of whom the Pharisees require segregation
at meals (verses 1-2). All three
parables – the other two are the lost sheep hunted for by the shepherd who
neglects the other ninety-nine, and the woman who searches furiously for one
lost coin while the other nine lie safely in her cash box – all three parables,
I say, give undue (?) attention to the lost ones. They concentrate too much on the ONE
that is lost, to the neglect, we may feel, of what they still have! In the prodigal son story, this is the
apparent injustice to the older son.
But
wait! The stories are not actually about
the Lost; they are about the Found.
And especially are they about the Joy because of the Found. The shepherd and the woman call in friends;
they have a banquet of joy over the recovery of what was lost – as does, of
course, the father of the prodigal.
And
especially is the prodigal one that is found.
At the worst
of his depths, the prodigal son “came to himself” (which is literally what the
Greek says). This was the beginning, the
finding of – himself, the start of the path to the father’s joy.
Finding
himself – in those circumstances
(verses 15-16) – meant a thorough reassessment of his life-style, and a
consequent giving up of self-indulgence and pride of status. It meant a commitment to a new and humbler
definition of his life (verses 17-19!).
This is the kind of awakening Jesus followers may find for themselves in
this devotional season.
And what
should be said of the elder brother, who stayed at home and carried the burden
of the estate to which the prodigal returned?
Is the elder
brother given to us as the particular challenge to those who are still
relatively privileged? To those who have
not been nearly starved and have not ended up eating with the pigs? Surely the point of the parable, as a Lenten
reading, is that we are called to rejoice in the good fortune of the needy who
have recovered – rejoice, even as if it
were our own occasion for celebration.
So the father of the story hopes his elder son will take the occasion of the prodigal’s recovery and return.
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