Second Sunday in Lent: February 20, 2005.

Genesis 12:1-4a

Psalm 121

Romans 4:1-5, 13-17

John 3:1-17

First Reading

Genesis 12 marks a shift from primeval history to the stories of the patriarchs. Abram, son of Terah, husband of Sarai, father of Ishmael and Isaac, is the first of these and, as such, the founder of a new people borne out of faithful response to the promise of Yahweh. The primary source for the introductory material on the patriarchs is the Yahwist, although some harmonization and other editorial work have been done by the Priestly tradition. We are introduced to Abram in 11:27, along with his brothers Nahor and Haran, the father of Lot. Nahor and his wife Milcah would later be identified as the grandparents of Rebekah. And it is announced, even before Abram's call, that Sarai is barren.

The family home is identified as Ur of the Chaldaeans, a city in lower Mesopotamia. (The reference to the Chaldaeans is seen as evidence of a later editor modifying the Yahwistic original for readers in the neo-Babylonian period.) We are told that it was originally Terah's intent to take part of his family and move to Canaan. However, upon arrival in Haran (an area that the Yahwist seems to indicate is the family home), Terah and his clan settle down. This original migration is thus disputed by some scholars. But there were significant religious and commercial relationships between Ur and Haran at the beginning of the second millennium B.C.E., so such relocation is not out of the question.

The call of Abram consists of demand and promise. The demand of God (12:1) requires separation from whatever family, social, religious, and economic ties Abram had accumulated by his establishment in Haran. The risk in stepping away from these attachments should not be minimized; they were understood as the basis for the survival of the clan. Letting go of them is the first act of faith that may be attributed to the patriarch. The promise that God gives is threefold. There will be a homeland; there will be descendants sufficient to people a great nation; there will be participation in the divine purpose as Abram becomes the means through which God's saving grace will bless all the families of the earth.

Psalm 121 is the second in a series of songs of ascent (Psalms 120-134) thought to have been sung by pilgrims coming to Jerusalem for the great feasts. In our appointed song, Yahweh is celebrated as Israel's trusted guardian not only for the road to Zion but for the road of life's journey. Indeed, it is not clear to which hills the psalmist lifts his eyes. This opening proposition may be an expression of concern about the brigands and thieves that could well await the traveling party making its way to Jerusalem. Or it may be that in thanksgiving, those approaching Jerusalem have fixed their eyes at last on Mt. Zion. In either case, the thesis of the psalm is stated with confidence that our help is firmly in God's hands.

This introduction is followed by an elaboration of the premise in three parts. The one who keeps Israel will not sleep on the job; Yahweh is actively engaged with the people who have been chosen. God is the shade under which we are protected from sun and moon, perhaps to be interpreted as protection from those who worship the heavenly bodies as deities and thus disparage Israel's devotion to the unseen Yahweh. Finally, God is celebrated as the author and sustainer of human life within whom all our walks and ways are sheltered.

In Romans 4, and on the heels of his argument for righteousness as a result of grace received through faith, Paul brings forth Abraham as an example. This citation is powerful for two reasons. First, Paul argues that the righteousness usually attributed to Abraham as the result of his steadfastness in trial and in the keeping of the covenant doesn't reach back far enough into the scriptural record. Abraham is accounted righteous before God on the basis of the trust that compels him from Haran to Canaan. This is long before he was circumcised (Genesis 17) or tested (Genesis 22). Second, as the bearer of God's blessing to all peoples, Abraham's model becomes normative for those who are his children, i.e., those who share his trust in God. That trust is imputed as righteousness by God who seems unwilling to separate one from the other; those who respond in faith are declared righteous by God and thus are. This providence is a gift of God that cannot be earned and therefore cannot be a vehicle for human pride. Thus, the law by which righteousness had traditionally been measured is, in fact, preceded by and rests on faith. Its sole purpose is to serve as a measure by which the extent and nature of sin may be known and so cannot be salvific. Paul closes this portion of his argument with a reminder of who we're dealing with here. Remember, Paul seems to say, that the foundation for this grace is the same God who brings the dead to life and calls all creation into being ex nihilo. What may be outside the scope of human ability is obviously not beyond the possible for such a One as this.

Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night. This conversation under the cover of darkness, a motif that fits well within the symbology of light and darkness employed throughout the Fourth Gospel, is a sign of both the secrecy that this Teacher of Israel wishes to maintain and of the ignorance and misunderstanding in which he operates. Nicodemus professes to know that Jesus is a great teacher sent from God but cannot yet comprehend the nature of that teaching or how it will be embodied by Jesus in his lifting up from the earth.

Listening in on the conversation that takes place between Jesus and Nicodemus, one is struck by how little they seem to actually communicate. Obviously we are not tuned into an historical dialogue; indeed, some scholars suggest that Nicodemus is little more than a literary contrivance by which the author allows Jesus to make theological pronouncements--in this case, rebirth into the coming reign of God and the nature of Jesus' own mission. It could be argued that the heart of the material before us is either a homily by the evangelist or a confession of faith from some early catechetical material (note the use of plural pronouns in v. 11). That does not discount, however, the possibility that Nicodemus did exist. The name is certainly well attested among first-century Jews, and it is likely that Jesus had won some hesitant following even among the ruling class.

A few additional observations: John's propensity toward dualism is evident in the comparisons between flesh and spirit, earthly things and heavenly things, and the ascending and descending of the Son of Humanity. Verses 14-15 argue for the necessity of Jesus' saving death by reference to Moses' use of the bronze serpent (Numbers 21). This Old Testament symbol gives way to God's broader purpose in Christ, that all the world gain eternal life through faith in Jesus. Finally, this is the first in a Lenten series of conversations with Jesus as we journey through John's Gospel during this season. While these incidents are inherent in the structure of the evangelist's writing, they may also offer the opportunity for some additional, intentional study with the congregation during this season.

Pastoral Reflection

Hey, Abe, how'd you like to hit the road;

See the world from a whole different point of view?

Hey, Abe, how'd you like to be the guy;

You and Sarai be the couple that I'm workin' through?

All you got to do is open up your heart, and let the Spirit lead the way.

Then together we can make another start, and give the world a brand new day.

Hey, Nick, how'd you like to let it go;

Crawl out from under all the weight you haul around?

Step back and let the cooling breezes blow;

Look up and see a new tomorrow comin' down!

All you got to do is open up your heart, and let the Spirit lead the way.

Then together we can make another start, and give the world a brand new day.

For God so loved the world he gave his only Son,

And the blessing promised long ago through Abram's race is won!

Hey, you, what ya' doin' with your life?

Are you ready to believe in somethin' truly great?

Jesus came to claim the world the Father loves;

Now our sin can never God and humans separate.

All you got to do is open up your heart, and let the Spirit lead the way.

Then together we can make another start, and give the world a brand new day.

(to be sung as a shuffle, at a comfortable, walking tempo ... [B.sup.b] major.) DLN