The Rev. Robert Lundquist Lent II-A 2/20/05 St Paul’s, Fort Collins

“Today I set before you life & death – choose life so that you & your descendants may life”

(Deuteronomy 30:19)

The lessons for today, the second Sunday of Lent, are all about choices. Life and death choices.

I went to seminary in Evanston, IL, just north of Chicago. The main north/south artery along the east coast of the lake is Sheridan Road. There’s a stretch heading south, just before entering Chicago, where the road is pinched between Calvary Cemetery on the right, and Lake Michigan on the left. One is so close to the old, enormous cemetery that the names on the monuments, mausoleums and tombstones are easy to read through the large iron fence. “The stillness of the grave” hangs over the place, where all appears inert, motionless.

To your left, however, is the Lake, nearly large enough to be considered an inland sea. With freighter traffic between the St Lawrence Seaway and Gary or South Chicago, there are always ships visible. Birds are constantly overhead. And the water is never still. The wind often creates waves which break on the rocks beside Sheridan Road and, like as not, baptize the cars with high sprays of mist. The tremendous vitality and vibrancy of Lake Michigan is always on display.

Between these portals thousands of people pass on their daily commute. The symbolism of the choice between life and death is stark in this half-mile stretch of road. It is as if, each day, we look to one side or the other, and make a choice between life and death.

Abram made a decision, of which we hear in our first reading. God calls Abram to pack up and move to a new place, and promises that by doing so Abram will be a blessing to all families. Abram had to decide to follow God’s request, to uproot Sarah and himself to follow God toward new life. For him to stay with the status quo was certainly an option. Abram’s life would have been easier, but not faithful.

In John’s Gospel we learn of the visit of Nicodemus, the patron saint of seekers, to Jesus. Here’s Nicodemus, perhaps dressed in his elaborate robes of office, coming to an itinerant preacher in the dead of night. Maybe, having it all, Nicodemus is wondering, “Is this all there is?” Jesus might have answers for him. But Jesus, as always, is enigmatic. I sometimes think that if Jesus gave everyone a straight answer, the New Testament would be about half its present size. What he traces out for Nicodemus is a choice – to accept birth from above, to embrace new life. You cannot see the City of God unless you permit this new birth from the Spirit. What do you know? What have you seen? asks Jesus. God is active in your life! Simply give witness, to yourself and others, to what is unmistakable – God’s love. So you can choose to see the City of God, or not.

About ten years ago a friend told me about his parents visiting the Holy Land, something they had always wanted to do and for which they’d saved money for some time. When they returned, Bill had an opportunity to ask his father, “Hey Dad, how was your trip?” Oh, it was awful, said his Dad. “It was dirty, everything smelled bad, everyone had a gun – it was a hell of a trip!” A few moments later Bill saw his mother. “What did you think of the Holy Land, Mom?” It was wonderful, she exclaimed. “It was incredible to walk where Jesus had walked, to pray where he had prayed, to stand beneath the olive trees and the cedar trees. It was heavenly!” So Bill asks me, “How can two people take the same trip and have such opposite experiences?” I think it’s the choice between life and death, I told him. One can choose to see that which gives life, or to see that which drains life. One can have either a positive or a negative outlook. “Choose life,” pleads God, “so that you and your descendants may live.” Living has to do with more than eating and sleeping, taking your vitamins and getting enough exercise. We all know people who have given up, who go through the motions but seem dispirited, drained. They have not chosen life.

In this season of Lent, we have this choice between life and death laid out for us. Do we look ahead to the City of God? Or do we look toward the past, giving in to the temptation to nurse hurts and hold old grudges? That’s the way of the world, isn’t it? Look out for number one, and always get even. Is that from Donald Trump?

In Exodus we read the story of Moses and the children of Israel in the Sinai. They have been led by God out of bondage in Egypt – but they hardly seem grateful. They complain bitterly to Moses, saying they would rather live in captivity than die in the desert. Even though they are divinely provided with water, manna and quail meat, they long for the leeks and cucumbers of Egypt. Every evening they would gather on the west edge of their encampment and watch the heart-breaking beauty of the sunset – over Egypt, the land of slavery. They were looking toward the past, and longing for it. Moses decreed that they were to get up in pre-dawn darkness (I’m sure they complained about that too!) to gather on the east edge of camp. As they watched the sun rise over the Promised Land they beheld the glory of the Lord. They were looking toward new life and toward the future where God awaited them.

So it is with us, sisters and brothers. We’re called by God to look ahead, to treasure a future filled with promise. The hard work in which we find ourselves right now is the work of grieving what is past and those who are gone from our midst. Some shy away from grief, because it is admittedly painful. But true grieving is in fact an honoring of what was, and how painful it is to lose it. Grieving allows us to release a burden, and to open our hand to receive new blessings. Ever notice that when you clutch something you don’t want to lose, your fist isn’t open to receive something new? And this is a choice. We choose life or death in the way we deal with our present pain.

We chose life at baptism, you realize. In the water of baptism we are reborn, given new life. We are symbolically drowned and resurrected to new life. We made a choice to “renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God.” It’s a choice we made once upon a time, and which we must make anew each day. It’s said that Martin Luther, before rising to his feet each morning, placed his hand on his head and declared, “I am baptized!” So too, we must never forget who we are, and whose we are, each and every day. We are created in God’s image, and we belong to the God who loves us more than we can fully understand or believe!

I choose God, I choose life. We choose God, and we choose life. We are called by God to work together as a Body, bearing one another’s’ joys and sorrows. The choice is set before us. The faithful option is not the easiest, at least in the short run. But it is truly the most life-giving. We’ve been given each other in this Body of Christ, and it’s a beautiful gift indeed. A gift of life, abundant life.

Amen.