I get easily disoriented.
I have many memories of things like State Fairs or amusement parks or haunted houses or flight
simulators all involving my being rescued and carried away by my brother or my wife or random
passersby.
I lose track of which way is up or down, which for some reason makes it very hard to remain
upright.
I get easily disoriented.
The season of Lent is about many things.
More than anything it is about disorientation and reorientation.
Our Lenten Gospel lessons are all looking ahead toward the disorientation of the crucifixion of
Christ. Today we hear of the destruction of the temple of Jesus’ body.
Our other lessons are about God reorienting human life in some way. Around the foolishness of
the cross or the 10 words spoken to Moses.
Lent both prepares us for the disorientation of the passion of Christ and invites us to a detailed
accounting, examination and questioning of our lives that we may repent and reorient in the light
of the Gospel.
The connection between the cross and our disorientation is that somehow the disorientation of
our lives is responsible for making the Cross happen.
The cliff notes version is that our lives are messed up and we killed Jesus because of this.
We are disoriented, we do really bad things.
Today we hear the ten words of reorientation, the Decalogue, the Ten Commandments.
We recognize them easily. But do we know them? Do we understand their deep meaning?
They are meant as a gift to a world that is disoriented, that can’t tell up from down.
The core of our dizziness is the absence of worship, of Sabbath keeping and Sabbath making.
Notice in the full version of the commandments that we hear today, that they begin with Gospel,
with Good News, that God brings deliverance from slavery.
Note also that the longest commandment is also about honoring the Sabbath. It is the heart and
soul of the Decalogue. It connects the first three to the last six. The first three are about
honoring God. The last six are about honoring human relationships.
And connecting the two sets is the fourth and longest commandment to honor a specific creature.
The last act of God creating the universe, this commandment is about the seventh day of
creation, the Sabbath Day and keeping it, keeping it holy.
In Sabbath keeping we honor the entire work of God’s creation, and this one day is the pinnacle
of creation. When we lose this beautiful creature, the creature of Sabbath, we lose our
orientation. “Honor this creature that I made, and the Universe will be in harmony. Dishonor
this day, and you won’t be able to tell up from down. You’ll make a mess of things. All creation
will suffer.”
At the center of the Decalogue is worship and hallowing a day, honoring a beautiful creature that
God shares with us, the day of God’s rest, we are to enter into God’s holy restfulness.
It is the unique role of humanity to share this day with God, to do the work of hallowing it, of
keeping it, of making it. We are stewards of the earth, and of one another, but we are also
stewards of the Sabbath. Perhaps part of what makes humanity bear the image of God is that we
share in the work of keeping and hallowing this day with God. Like God we are Sabbath
makers.
Too often I approach the Ten Commandments as a memorization exercise. Can I name them all?
Can I name them in order? Or I approach them in a purely legal or moralistic fashion. Do I
make the cut? Did I break a rule? I suspect I share this problem with most people.
I forget the deep purpose of the commandments, the great gift of the commandments: to reorient
our lives around the Sabbath, of finding the worship of God in caring for this day.
Interesting that Jesus at his most angry was all about how worship had become a market place.
He made a whip. He drove people out like cattle. He caused a stampede of cattle and sheep. A
stampede! Imagine the Running of the Bulls in Spain, but in this case it was the running of
Jesus, chasing the crowds down the street with a whip and frightened cattle. He threw down
other peoples’ money. He turned over the tables.
Jesus was really angry, beyond furious. We don’t really know exactly why, but it had something
to do with forgetting about worshiping God.
When we forget about hallowing a holy space, a holy time, then the Universe loses orientation,
and things fly apart. Jesus takes out his whip and raises holy hell.
It seems lately I’ve heard several people talk about how missing Church just messes things up.
I think they feel deeply the disorientation of a world that can’t tell up from down.
But when we honor the creature of Sabbath, when we care for and keep this beautiful gift of
God, when we make room, when we empty out this time, then we begin to see straight again, we
share with God in this gift of Sabbath making.
The Sabbath, it reorients us, it remakes us, it holds the Decalogue together, it is the pinnacle of
creation.
Jesus said that God made the Sabbath for humanity. God rested and made this day for us. God’s
first gift. God finally had someone to share with, and God shared the Sabbath, the creature that
is God’s place of rest.
No wonder we are so confused. We took this wonderful gift and turned it into just another day to
get things done, rather than the day that all other days get ready for.
How do we prepare for the Sabbath? How do we honor it? Do we find room to worship God?
I’ve begun to see the creature of the Sabbath as this magnificent being, this mighty Stallion, that
if we care for and honor it, then we are carried, lifted up, we can see all creation from atop it.
Can you feel the wind? Do you feel the thundering hooves?
Lent is many things.
It’s like going for a ride on God’s very own untamed, wild horse.
Except it doesn’t make you dizzy. On this ride we can finally see straight.