Monday, March 10, 2014

Sermon: "You are my hiding-place" (Mar. 8, 2014, Lent 1)

Lent 1A
March 9, 2014
Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7; Matthew 4:1-11; Psalm 32
  
            I remember a night last year when I was so overwhelmed by the inevitability of having a second major surgery in the course of four months, and of the sacrifices that this surgery would require, that I just wanted to hide. I was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. I couldn’t settle my thoughts. I just wanted my situation to go away. Without consciously thinking about it – in fact, out of instinct more than anything else – I pulled the covers over my head, hiding myself from the world, and, I hoped, my emotions.
While there was some satisfaction in that, of course it didn’t really hide me from anything. But it was such a human response to struggle and pain, wasn’t it? Even as I did it, I knew it wouldn’t really help anything, but at least giving myself the illusion of hiding from everything on my heart provided temporary consolation. Hiding made me feel safe.
Hiding has that power, doesn’t it? The power to make us feel safe? But the story we hear today from Genesis makes us think differently about hiding. It’s a familiar story – the story of the Fall, just after Adam and Eve are created. The story in which God tells them they can eat of any tree except this one, and then a crafty serpent comes along and convinces them that it wouldn’t be so bad to eat of that tree, and in fact, it would be good! They would know good and evil if they did, they would be more like God! And so they do, and in that moment their blissful blindness falls away. Suddenly they do know good and evil, and they name their own nakedness as bad. And so they immediately sew together fig leaves to – you got it – hide themselves, hide their vulnerability, hide their nakedness, hide their potential for being hurt or embarrassed or teased or judged. They hide themselves. And then to hit home the point, when they hear God later that evening walking through the Garden, they hide not only from each other and from themselves, but they also hide themselves from God.

It’s powerful stuff, and while I’m guessing you’ve never felt the need to sew together fig leaves as protection from the elements or from judgmental eyes, who has never tried to hide something from others? Who has never wanted to hide something from God? Perhaps, we think, if I never admit it explicitly to myself, then no one, not even God, has to know about my weaknesses, my faults, my mistakes. I’ll just keep them hidden, and no one has to know, and I can pretend they don’t exist.
So the first question to ask ourselves is, what do you feel the need to hide? What can no one know, not even God? What are those things that, when we come here week after week and do confession, you can never quite bring yourself to mention, even in silence?
The next question is, what are you hiding behind? In Genesis, it says that Adam and Eve sewed fig leaves together, and hid among the trees of the garden. What are your fig leaves? What are your forests?
            Our Gospel text can shed some light on this. The first Sunday of Lent always includes hearing an account of the temptation of Jesus. At first it seems that what the devil offers to tempt Jesus with has no bearing on our real lives. After all, who has ever been offered rule over all the kingdoms of the world? (Furthermore, who would ever want that job?!) But below the surface, these are temptations we are quite familiar with: turning stones into bread becomes a temptation for security and self-sufficiency; throwing himself off a pinnacle so that God’s angels will save him becomes a temptation for acceptance, as this act will prove that he is, in fact, the Son of God, and everyone will see his importance; and offering him rule over all the kingdoms in the world, of course, becomes a temptation for power and leadership. Security, acceptance, and power – now these are things we understand!
In addition to temptations, are they not also sometimes the fig leaves we hide behind? If I can show people how secure I am, I can hide from them my insecurity. If I can show people how important I am, I can hide from them my fear that I won’t be accepted as I am. If I can show people how powerful I am, I can hide from them my doubts. They never have to see my nakedness.
            But I suspect these are not all that we hide behind. We surround ourselves with many hiding places – working too many hours, academic degrees, awards on the wall, our age, gender, or race, over-booked calendars and busy-ness, a constant need to make jokes, boisterous conversation, nice cars, other material goods, the balance in our bank account… So many things to show the world that hide our insecurities, so many fig leaves to hide behind.
            I don’t think God wants us to hide. Or more accurately, God doesn’t want us to hide from God. Rather, God wants us to hide in God. Look at what our Psalm says: “You are my hiding place; you preserve me from trouble.” What a different image that is, either from my instinct to pull my covers over my head, or from our persistent attempts to hide behind our various fig leaves. Rather than hiding from, where we try to disguise who we are, or be someone different from who we are, hiding in God gives the impression of being exactly who we are, who God made us to be, who God declared us to be in our baptism: beloved and forgiven children of God. Hiding in God means crawling into God’s bosom and remembering that whatever troubles may come upon us, whatever evils may tempt us, whatever wrong turns we may take along the way, God loves us and protects us and forgives us. When we hide in God, we find that our fig leaves are unnecessary, for God is the only hiding place that we need.
            Rather than me continuing merely to tell you about this, let’s do something that will show it. You may have noticed that we did not start this morning with confession and forgiveness as we normally do. We will move into this time now. In your bulletin you will find a piece of rice paper, and our ushers will hand out some pens. Take some time right now to think about what some of your fig leaves are – what are you hiding behind – or, what it is you are hiding. Write it down on your rice paper. No one will ever see this but you and God, so be honest. When you’ve written something, come forward here to the font, to the place where God promised us that our sins are forgiven and that we are God’s claimed and beloved children. As you put your paper into the font, hiding it in God’s promise, ask God for forgiveness, and watch what God does with your sin.
            And now, brothers and sisters in Christ, let us pray as we enter a time of confession before God…
            Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
            Let us confess to God those things we keep hidden from others, from ourselves, and even from God, and those things which we hide behind…

[people take time to write on rice paper as background music plays – “You Are My Hiding Place” by Selah]

Brothers and sisters in Christ, God has seen you and knows you. God knows your sitting down and your rising up, and discerns your thoughts from far away. God knows your hiding places and bids you come and hide in Him. Know that you are forgiven. Your sins have been washed away, and you are in Christ.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Amen. Thanks be to God!

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