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Psalm 46
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns. The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; God utters God's voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Come, behold the works of the Lord; see what desolations God has brought on the earth. God makes wars cease to the end of the earth; God breaks the bow, and shatters the spear; God burns the shields with fire. “Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth.” The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Mark 1:9-15
In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness for forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”


Each Friday night after work, Joe would fire up his outdoor grill and cook some venison steak. All of Joe's neighbors were Catholic, and when Lent began, they were forbidden from eating red meat on Fridays. The delicious aroma from the grilled venison steaks was causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their priest. The priest came to visit Joe and suggested that he become a Catholic. After some classes and much study, Joe attended Mass. The priest sprinkled holy water over him and said, “You were born a Baptist, and raised as a Baptist, but now you are Catholic.” Joe's neighbors were greatly relieved, until the next Friday night arrived and the wonderful aroma of grilled venison filled the neighborhood. The priest was called immediately by the neighbors. As the priest rushed into Joe's yard, clutching a rosary and prepared to scold him, he stopped and watched in amazement. There stood Joe, clutching a small bottle of holy water, which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat while saying, “You were born a deer, you were raised as a deer, but now you are a catfish!”
Today is the first Sunday in Lent, the 40 day season – not including Sundays – between Ash Wednesday and Easter. Lent first began as a time of fasting, which is why many Catholics abstain from eating red meat on Fridays. You might also hear people talk about giving something up for Lent – such as chocolate or swearing or television. The idea is that the spiritual practice of sacrifice and self-denial draws one into a closer relationship with God.
Preacher and teacher Barbara Brown Taylor offers one of my favorite descriptions of how and why Lent began. The earliest Christians had their hands full with the Roman government, but once Christianity became a more established and accepted religion, Taylor writes, “Little by little, Christians became devoted to their comforts: the soft couch, the flannel sheets, the leg of lamb roasted with rosemary. These things made them feel safe and cared for - if not by God, then by themselves. They decided there was no contradiction between being comfortable and being Christian, and before long it was very hard to pick them out from the population at large. They no longer distinguished themselves by their bold love for one another. They ceased getting arrested for championing the poor. They blended in. They avoided extremes. They decided to be nice instead of holy, and God moaned out loud.
Hearing that, someone suggested it was time to call Christians back to their senses, and the Bible offered some clues about how to do that. Israel spent 40 years in the wilderness learning to trust the Lord. Elijah spent 40 days there before hearing the still, small voice of God - on the same mountain where Moses spent 40 days listening to God give the law. There was also the Gospel story about Jesus' own 40 days in the wilderness.
So the early church announced a season of Lent, from the old English word lenten, meaning ‘spring' - not only a reference to the season before Easter, but also an invitation to a springtime for the soul.”
I like that description of Lent . . . a “springtime for the soul.” But it seems to contradict our traditional thinking about Lent as a somber, serious, sacrificial time. So what is this season of Lent really all about? Barbara Brown Taylor noted that Lent is based on the Biblical experiences of several people in the wilderness. What comes to mind when you think about wilderness? Is it somewhere deep in a forest, overgrown with trees and vines and branches . . . or somewhere in an arid desert, with only sand as far as the eye can see? Is it even a physical location . . . or is it something hidden deep inside your soul? Is it a frightening place . . . or a place of retreat? In her book, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, Anne Lamott offers this thought about the wilderness. “A number of my friends love it. They love the scary beauty – snakes, lizards, scorpions, the kestrels and hawks. They love the mosaics of water-washed pebbles, small rocks that cast huge shadows, a shoot of vegetation here, a wildflower there. I like it for short periods of time, from inside a car, with the windows rolled up and the doors locked. I prefer beach resorts with room service.”
It is with these various definitions and opinions of wilderness that we approach the passage from Mark's Gospel that Barb read. “And the Spirit immediately drove Jesus out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” From Mark's brief description, we don't really know what Jesus' wilderness experience was like, but we can assume it was not a pleasant retreat. Satan was there. Wild beasts were there. On the other hand, angels were also there. And let's not forget about what Jesus heard right before entering the wilderness. As he came up out of the waters of his baptism, a voice from heaven declared, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Can you imagine how Jesus must have felt to hear those words? So unconditionally loved and cherished by God. As he goes out into the wilderness, those are the words that are on his heart - “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Though Jesus was certainly challenged in an uncomfortable wilderness, those wild beasts could not hold a candle to God's words of grace and truth.
How do we know this? Because of what follows. After his 40 days in the wilderness, Jesus goes to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. Something wonderful happened in that wilderness. It was challenging and tempting, to be sure, but it was also life-giving. Jesus was so transformed by God, so deeply moved by his time in the wilderness, that he could not keep the good news to himself.
So here we are at the first Sunday of Lent, a season of 40 days, like the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness. If you ask me, Lent has come at exactly the right time. My soul could use a little springtime right now. How about yours? These days it seems like our world and our lives are too often in the wilderness. Not the peaceful wilderness, either, with the gently flowing streams and the beautiful wildflowers, but the wilderness that really makes us wish we were at a hotel ordering room service. Many of us experienced the wilderness last week, when we learned that a member of our congregation had died from liver cancer. A couple days later, some of the Westminster youth told me that a school-mate of theirs at Saint Ignatius high in San Francisco had committed suicide. That's wilderness. Countries and people in our nation and our world are waging war instead of practicing peace. That's wilderness. Several in our own community are struggling to pay the bills. That's wilderness.
In the middle of all of this wilderness comes the gift of Lent – the springtime for our souls. Moses, Elijah, and Jesus all encountered God in the wilderness, and the season of Lent reminds us to seek out God in our wilderness. God is our refuge and our strength, the Psalmist tells us. Though the earth should change, though the mountains shake, we will not fear. In the midst of the turmoil that is our lives, God speaks through the Psalmist telling us to “Be still.” Let me say it again. “Be still.” “Be still, and know that I am God.”
During Lent this year, rather than giving up something – or in addition to giving up something, if that's important to you - I want to encourage you to be still. Be still each and every day, multiple times throughout the day. Be still and hear God telling you, “You are my child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Take those words with you into the wilderness. Yes, the economy is struggling, and the consequences of that are frightening. Be still, and know God. We encounter sadness and grief, sickness and death, even just this week, in our own congregation. Be still, and know God. The wilderness just seems to be more than we bear and we are so in need of grace. Be still, and know God. Know God, our refuge and our strength.
I do have to warn you, as Jesus showed us, encounters with God in the midst of the wilderness may radically shake up our lives. God does bring grace to our wilderness, but we are transformed in the process. Lutheran pastor Dr. Luke Bouman describes it like this: “For each encounter with God changes me forever. In the wilderness I cannot escape from who I am, nor can I escape from the One who calls me to be so much more than just who I am. In the wilderness I am laid bare and open to all the things that God calls me to be. In the wilderness we become ever more aware of our dependence on God. In the wilderness we learn to trust God's way of being. In the wilderness we are connected to what God is doing in the world.”
Be still this Lent. Be still and know God. Be still and be open to the transformation that God brings to your life. Be still, and then proclaim the good news. Even in the wilderness, oh God, great is your faithfulness. May our faithfulness also be great. And may this Lenten season truly be a springtime for your soul. Amen.

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