Second Sunday of Lent: Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35
The authors of scripture were, like many of us, often anxious and afraid. The world was uncertain. In today’s reading from Genesis, the Lord speaks to Abram in a vision. The focus is on Abram’s anxiety about his legacy. He is childless, yet the Lord still promises Abram that he will be succeeded by his own child. He tells him to “look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Abram’s descendants will be as many as the stars. Abram believed this, unimaginable though it might be. Then the Lord promises Abram the land he was in “to possess”. After Abram offers a sacrifice, the Lord makes a covenant that Abram and his descendants will hold all the land from “the river of Egypt” to the Euphrates.
I read this with a sinking heart. There are many wars around the world, most over who possesses, or controls, the land. Is Ukraine part of Russia? How would we know? What are the appropriate borders of Israel? What rights have people who live as minorities in nations around the world? These struggles take place in the context of nation states, entities which largely emerged in the 19th century, swallowing smaller political units with different linguistic, cultural and religious traditions. As a historian, I know that there is nothing about thinking God has provided land to you which has been good for the world.
Today’s Psalm takes on fear and anxiety in another way, focused on trusting God: this is not about conquest and possession, but surrender to God. “One thing have I asked of the Lord; on thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life . . . The Lord will sustain me . . .O tarry and await the Lord’s pleasure; be strong and he shall comfort your heart.” (Ps. 27:5, 14, 18) This is another way to imagine a covenant with God: not as offering possession, but offering protection and comfort.
The image of protection recurs in the Gospel. Luke has Jesus foretelling his death, while telling the Pharisees it is not yet time. Unlike most of us, at this point Jesus is not driven by fear, just by his understanding of time. And then he offers the lament: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem . . . how often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing.” (Luke 13:34)
We are seeing terrible scenes of destruction in Ukraine; while Ukraine is not the only place suffering from war and destruction, its location in Europe has made it a focus of greater attention than other such struggles. The battle for possession is one that leads to violence and grief. If we think of the Lord offering shelter and comfort in the psalm, or Jesus as a hen seeking to shelter her children, we are offered a way to engage with these conflicts. How can we help? What can we do to offer help, shelter, and comfort? The Psalmist hopes that,”In the day of trouble, he shall keep me safe in his shelter.” Can we too be like a hen gathering her brood to protect them? God acts through us; it is our job to find ways to act for God.