Psalm 19, NRSV

The heavens are telling the glory of God;
    and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours forth speech,
    and night to night declares knowledge.

There is no speech, nor are there words;
    their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
    and their words to the end of the world.

In the heaven she has set a tent for the sun,
which comes out like a bridegroom from his wedding canopy,
    and like a strong man runs its course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
    and its circuit to the end of them;
    and nothing is hid from its heat.

The law of the Lord is perfect,
    reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
    making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
    rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
    enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
    and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
    even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
    and drippings of the honeycomb.

Moreover by them is your servant warned;
    in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can detect their errors?
    Clear me from hidden faults.
Keep back your servant also from the insolent;
    do not let them have dominion over me.
Then I shall be blameless,
    and innocent of great transgression.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
    be acceptable to you,
    O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

Gold.
Much, fine gold.
The beauties of this world,
catalogued in praise of . . .
the law.

Yet, more than the law, I think.
Perhaps the Word is closer.

The word.

Carries with it
the power to . . .
create,
inhabit,
transform,
cleanse,
heal,
destroy.

And we, too, have words.
And I join mine
with the psalmist,
asking that every word
that pours forth speech
from my mouth
would be worthy
of . . .
the Word.

Amen.

Hebrews 11:1-3, 13-19, the Message

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd.

By faith, we see the world called into existence by God’s word, what we see created by what we don’t see.

Each one of these people of faith died not yet having in hand what was promised, but still believing. How did they do it? They saw it way off in the distance, waved their greeting, and accepted the fact that they were transients in this world. People who live this way make it plain that they are looking for their true home. If they were homesick for the old country, they could have gone back any time they wanted. But they were after a far better country than that—heaven country. You can see why God is so proud of them, and has a City waiting for them.

By faith, Abraham, at the time of testing, offered Isaac back to God. Acting in faith, he was as ready to return the promised son, his only son, as he had been to receive him—and this after he had already been told, “Your descendants shall come from Isaac.” Abraham figured that if God wanted to, he could raise the dead. In a sense, that’s what happened when he received Isaac back, alive from off the altar.

Shadows of Easter,
two weeks into Lent.

We can’t ever tell this story
without it, you know.
Like the fragrance of lilies,
it permeates all the
space inside.

And apparently,
God wanted to.

Raise the dead,
that is.

And here,
in the season
where they’re banned,
I’m just gonna say it:

HALLELUJAH!!

Psalm 105: 1-11, 37-45, The Message

Thank God! Pray to him by name!
    Tell everyone you meet what he has done!
Sing him songs, belt out hymns,
    translate his wonders into music!
Honor his holy name with Hallelujahs,
    you who seek God. Live a happy life!
Keep your eyes open for God, watch for his works;
    be alert for signs of his presence.
Remember the world of wonders he has made,
    his miracles, and the verdicts he’s rendered—
        O seed of Abraham, his servant,
        O child of Jacob, his chosen.

He’s God, our God,
    in charge of the whole earth.
And he remembers, remembers his Covenant—
    for a thousand generations he’s been as good as his word.
It’s the Covenant he made with Abraham,
    the same oath he swore to Isaac,
The very statute he established with Jacob,
    the eternal Covenant with Israel,
Namely, “I give you the land.
    Canaan is your hill-country inheritance.”
When they didn’t count for much,
    a mere handful, and strangers at that,
Wandering from country to country,
    drifting from pillar to post,
He permitted no one to abuse them.
    He told kings to keep their hands off:
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my anointed,
    don’t hurt a hair on the heads of my prophets.”

Then Israel entered Egypt,
    Jacob immigrated to the Land of Ham.
God gave his people lots of babies;
    soon their numbers alarmed their foes.
He turned the Egyptians against his people;
    they abused and cheated God’s servants.
Then he sent his servant Moses,
    and Aaron, whom he also chose.
They worked marvels in that spiritual wasteland,
    miracles in the Land of Ham.
He spoke, “Darkness!” and it turned dark—
    they couldn’t see what they were doing.
He turned all their water to blood
    so that all their fish died;
He made frogs swarm through the land,
    even into the king’s bedroom;
He gave the word and flies swarmed,
    gnats filled the air.
He substituted hail for rain,
    he stabbed their land with lightning;
He wasted their vines and fig trees,
    smashed their groves of trees to splinters;
With a word he brought in locusts,
    millions of locusts, armies of locusts;
They consumed every blade of grass in the country
    and picked the ground clean of produce;
He struck down every firstborn in the land,
    the first fruits of their virile powers.
He led Israel out, their arms filled with loot,
    and not one among his tribes even stumbled.
Egypt was glad to have them go—
    they were scared to death of them.
God spread a cloud to keep them cool through the day
    and a fire to light their way through the night;
They prayed and he brought quail,
    filled them with the bread of heaven;
He opened the rock and water poured out;
    it flowed like a river through that desert—
All because he remembered his Covenant,
    his promise to Abraham, his servant.

Remember this! He led his people out singing for joy;
    his chosen people marched, singing their hearts out!
He made them a gift of the country they entered,
    helped them seize the wealth of the nations
So they could do everything he told them—
    could follow his instructions to the letter.

Hallelujah!

Belt it out!
Being possessed of
a big voice,
I love that line.

There aren’t many places
in life where
we’re given permission
to be loud.

But right here,
in the opening days
of what many think
a dark season,
we find these
fun, loud words.

Even in the desert,
we can find reason
to sing for all
we’re worth.

Try it!

Mark 9:2-9, The Message

Six days later, three of them did see it. Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus.

Peter interrupted, “Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let’s build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing.

Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.”

The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus.

Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you’re free to talk.” They puzzled over that, wondering what on earth “rising from the dead” meant.

Wouldn’t you love
to have been there?

Of all the biblical stories,
this is the one I’d
like to enter.

And sometimes,
when the sky looks like
this one,
I think I come close.

Do you?

(And I love the way
this encounter ends . . . 
‘seeing nothing but Jesus,
only Jesus . . .

Yea, Lord. May it be so.)

Genesis 16:7-15, The Living Bible

The Angel of the Lord found her beside a desert spring along the road to Shur.

The Angel: “Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from, and where are you going?”

Hagar: “I am running away from my mistress.”

The Angel: “Return to your mistress and act as you should, for I will make you into a great nation. Yes, you are pregnant and your baby will be a son, and you are to name him Ishmael (‘God hears’), because God has heard your woes. This son of yours will be a wild one—free and untamed as a wild ass! He will be against everyone, and everyone will feel the same toward him. But he will live near the rest of his kin.”

Thereafter Hagar spoke of Jehovah—for it was he who appeared to her—as “the God who looked upon me,” for she thought, “I saw God and lived to tell it.”

Later that well was named “The Well of the Living One Who Sees Me.” It lies between Kadesh and Bered.

So Hagar gave Abram a son, and Abram named him Ishmael.

‘Beside a desert spring.’
In more ways than one,
I’ll wager.

It is never an easy job
to be anyone’s servant.
Never.

But back then?
I cannot even imagine.

But this feisty girl knew her limits,
and she got outta there.
Fast.
She was alone, however.
In the desert.
Pregnant.

And then something
strange and wonderful
happens:

She is seen.
She is heard.

Is there any gift on earth
better than that one?

Even when the word is
‘return,’
even when that is the
very last thing
she wants.

Still.

The gift was being seen.

 

Matthew 4:1-11, NRSV

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” But he answered, “It is written,

One does not live by bread alone,
    but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,

He will command his angels concerning you,’
    and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
    so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”

Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.”Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,

Worship the Lord your God,
    and serve only him.’”

Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

Sometimes I wonder
about those angels.
I’m pretty sure they
didn’t look like this one.

I’m guessing they looked a lot
like desert nomads,
carrying skins filled with water,
and dried camel meat.

But those guys don’t show up
again in the life of our Lord.
At least, we’re not told about
any more angels — except that one
in the garden,
offering strength
in the midst of
struggle.

But that is all.
After that, there will be no more
rescue, succor, heavenly food.

The rest of this story
is terribly earth-bound.

Thank God.