A Homily for the Fourth Sunday in Lent
Rejoice ye with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all
ye that love her: rejoice for joy with
her, all ye that mourn for her.
—Isaiah 66:10
Among
the names given to this mid-Lenten Sunday is “Laetare
Sunday,” from the first word of the introit in Latin. The introit is taken from the sixty-sixth (and
final) chapter of the book of Isaiah the prophet. The prophet compares Jerusalem to a mother who feeds and cares for
her children:
Rejoice with Jerusalem
and be glad because of her, all you who love her; exult, exult with her, all
you who were mourning over her! . .
. For thus says the LORD: Lo, I
will spread prosperity over her like a river, and the wealth of the nations
like an overflowing torrent. As nurslings, you shall be carried in her arms,
and fondled in her lap; as a mother comforts her son, so will I comfort you; in
Jerusalem you
shall find your comfort.
The prophet’s imagery is echoed
by the Epistle lesson, taken from Saint
Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Paul tells his readers, the Galatians and us, that
Hagar, the mother of Ishmael, allegorically represents the Jerusalem that now
is; and that Sarah, the mother of Isaac, allegorically represents the Jerusalem
which is above, which is the mother of us all.
Four
weeks ago, on the Sunday before Lent, we read in the Gospel lesson that Jesus
said to his disciples, “Behold, we go up to Jerusalem.”
Lent is a journey to Jerusalem. We began the journey in Galilee, in our
Galilee, in the ordinary, everyday places and occupations of our life; and,
through Lent, we are going up to Jerusalem. Today we reach the midpoint of our journey,
and we are bidden to rest a bit, to relax our Lenten austerity just a bit, and
to contemplate the goal of our journey.
Behold,
we go up to Jerusalem. But to which Jerusalem? To the Jerusalem
which now is, and is in bondage with her children? Or to the Jerusalem which is above, which is the mother
of us all? Jesus told his disciples that
they were going up to Jerusalem, and that there he would be mocked and
spitefully used, scourged and put to death.
All that would happen in the Jerusalem
which now is. But he also promised that
on the third day he would rise again; and by that rising he would open the way
to the Jerusalem
which is above.
Our
Lenten journey necessarily takes us to the Jerusalem that now is. The passion and the cross cannot be
avoided. But, ultimately, the goal of
our journey is the new Jerusalem, the Jerusalem which is
above. That is the heavenly Jerusalem which the
Apostle John saw in his apocalyptic vision, and of which, in poetic language,
he wrote:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The former
heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. I also saw the holy city, a new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared
as a bride adorned for her husband.
. . . It gleamed with the splendor of God. Its radiance was like
that of a precious stone, like diamond, clear as crystal. . . . The wall was constructed of diamond, while
the city was pure gold, clear as glass. . . .
The twelve gates were twelve pearls, . . . and
the street of the city was of pure gold, transparent as glass. I saw no temple in the city, for its temple
is the Lord God almighty and the Lamb.
The city had no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God
gave it light, and its lamp was the Lamb.
The nations will walk by its light, and to it the kings of the earth
will bring their treasure.
In the imagery of revelation, the
heavenly Jerusalem represents the kingdom of God,
and it is this heavenly Jerusalem that Saint Paul calls “the
mother of us all.” And it is to this
heavenly city, the Jerusalem
which is above, that Isaiah’s prophecy points us. But the holy city seen of John also
represents the Church, which is at once the mystical
body of Christ and the blessed company of all faithful people. The Church is the incursion of the kingdom of God into the secular world, a foretaste
of the heavenly city.
We
are, however, subject to a temptation to make the goal of our journey not the
Jerusalem which is above, but the Jerusalem which now is—even though, now, as
always, she is in bondage with her children.
This is the temptation to seek salvation in the secular realms of politics,
economics, or science.
We
are not meant to understand, by the phrase “the Jerusalem
which now is,” only the city of Jerusalem
as it was in the first century, when Paul wrote. But that real city is an apt allegory for the
present world, with all its false promises.
Between David’s time and Paul’s time, a period of just over a thousand
years, Jerusalem was captured at least three times and destroyed at least once;
between Paul’s time and ours, Jerusalem has been captured at least five more times
and destroyed at least twice more. Today
it is at the center of a political controversy, and is frequently the site of
demonstrations, riots, and suicide bombings.
At
the time Paul wrote his letter to the Galatians, there were those who looked
for salvation to Jerusalem
and its temple, and to the ordinances and rituals centered there—even though
the city was under Roman military occupation.
Paul and the other apostles had brought to many countries, including Galatia, the
good news that salvation was freely available to all who would believe, and
that the sacrifices of the temple had been superseded by a greater sacrifice,
the one oblation, once offered. But
there were those in Galatia
who still thought they could work out their own salvation in this world.
It
is not so very different in our own times.
There are not many today who think that salvation can be attained by the
works of the Hebrew law, that is, of the Old Testament. But there are very many who believe that
salvation can be attained by works. For many,
it seems, the Jerusalem
which now is is the State: whatever is wrong in our individual and
collective lives can be solved by the correct political program, by better
laws, by one-world government, or in some other way by the proper application
of political power.
For
some, the Jerusalem
which now is is economics. Salvation is to be achieved through
prosperity, and prosperity through a more equitable distribution of
wealth. For more, the Jerusalem which now is is
science. Science can save the
planet. Science can offer eternal life
through the conquering of disease, the reversal of aging, the modification of
DNA. All that prevents science from
saving us from death is a superstitious reverence for life.
But
the Jerusalem
which now is is in bondage, and will always be in
bondage. True freedom exists only in the
Jerusalem which
is above, which is the mother of us all.
And so our Lenten journey, and our life’s journey, are
taking us onward, from the Galilee of our everyday lives to the heavenly Jerusalem: where, like nurslings we shall be carried in
her arms and fondled in her lap; where God himself is the light and the
nighttime never comes.
Of
that heavenly City, we have a foretaste in the Church, and, for that reason, Jerusalem is also an
image of the Church. The Church is both
the mystical body of Christ and the blessed company of all faithful
people. It is an incursion of the heavenly
Jerusalem into our earthly
world. And maybe we do not see, in our
church building, the walls of diamond and floors of gold; but even so, as
members of the Church we are citizens of that heavenly city, the Jerusalem which is above.
It
is altogether fitting, therefore, that the Church should be fed with heavenly food, that we should eat the bread of the angels and drink
the cup of salvation. Let us recall the
Psalmist’s words:
What reward shall I give unto the LORD for all the
benefits that he hath done unto me?
I will receive the cup of salvation, and call upon the
Name of the LORD. . . .
Behold, O LORD, how that I am thy servant;
I am thy servant, and the son of thine
handmaid; thou hast broken my bonds in sunder.
I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving,
and will call upon the Name of the LORD.
I will pay my vows unto the LORD, in the sight of all
his people,
in the courts of the LORD’S house; even in the midst of
thee, O Jerusalem.
Praise the LORD.
Church of Saint Mary Magdalene
Orange, California
26
March 2006
Go
to a list of the deacon’s homilies.