A backdrop is a painted cloth hung behind the area on a stage where
the action in the play occurs. It provides a setting or a context to help us
understand what is being acted out in front of us. Sometimes a play can be
produced without backdrop and with a minimal stage set. Then the audience must use imagination
to supply context.
However, biblical passages usually have a backdrop of other passages to help
us understand them. We use study
Bibles to aid us in seeing what the context of the passage might be. Sermons should also address such
context. Last week I said that one
context for the story of Jesus' transfiguration on the mountain with Moses and
Elijah was the story of his baptism we heard this morning. Could the voice
speaking from the cloud at the Transfiguration saying to listen to Jesus have
been the same voice calling Jesus in today's gospel, “my Son, the
Beloved?” The writer of the Gospel
of Mark appears to believe it was.
Today's gospel serves as a backdrop not only for the story of the
Transfiguration but also for the whole of Jesus' ministry. What Jesus saw and heard as he came out
of the baptismal water set him on a path that would lead from the waters of the
Jordan river back to a ministry in Galilee and finally to Jerusalem where he
would be executed by the Romans.
The Roman authorities feared a Jewish uprising and executed anyone who
appeared to threaten political stability.
Even though it is Sunday—and we know every Sunday is a feast day of
our Lord's resurrection—we can't ignore the backdrop of this penitential season
of Lent. To turn the title of a
book by evangelical preacher, Tony Campolo, on its head: “It's Sunday, but Friday's
coming.” We prepare during Lent
for Easter, yes; but we prepare against the backdrop of Jesus'
crucifixion. He willing went to
the cross out of love for us so that evil, sin and death could do their
worst—and then be defeated.
Yes, it's Sunday, but Friday's coming. To prepare Jesus for what lay ahead, the Spirit of God drove
Jesus into the wilderness. What
happened in the wilderness also serves as a backdrop for the rest of his
ministry. Although Mark does less
with this episode than either Matthew or Luke, I believe Jesus’ time in the
wilderness was essential to understanding his life. I also believe it can become an important backdrop for
understanding our own wilderness times.
I strongly dislike the concept that God tests us with troubles. But our lives do provide us with times
of feeling empty, times of feeling lost, times of feeling alone and without
what we need, times of feeling overwhelmed by troubles or danger. How we
navigate those times becomes critical for our wellbeing—for our feeling of being whole
or complete. In them we can learn
to accept God's love for us and God's care for us, often given to us through
other people—just as Jesus accepted the angels caring for him. Navigating our wilderness times well,
recognizing what we can learn from these times and how we can gain strength
from these times, may be a gift to others as well.
Verlyn Klinkenborg, an editorial writer for the New York Times, wrote a short op-ed piece published last Sunday
entitled, “In a Lenten Season.” He
asserted that observing a “Lenten” discipline as a time in the wilderness can
be life giving, even to those who chose a secular life style. Here is what he said:
“But what if
this were really a season for renunciation, even for non-believers? In the
ancestral stories of nearly every culture, wisdom comes from the bare places,
from deserts and dry mountains. The season of Lent itself is based on a
“wilderness” — the one in which Jesus fasted for 40 days after his baptism.
It’s common to read this story and others like
it as though the wilderness were little more than a blank [italics mine] backdrop. I read it a different way.
Wisdom comes from the bare places because they force humility upon us. In these
Lenten places, where life thrives on almost nothing, we can see clearly how
large a shadow modern life and consumption cast upon the earth. In secular
terms, Lent seems the opposite of Christmas — “What are you giving up?” versus
“What are you getting?” Perhaps it might be a season in which to learn the
value of abstention and to consider how to let the bare places flourish, or
even simply to exist.”
Yes, it's Sunday, but Friday's coming. Yet let us not fear the bare places in
our lives. Jesus flourished in the
wilderness. Despite Satan's
temptations and the terror of the wild beasts, he became strengthened to face
what lay ahead for him, crucifixion on the Friday we call “good.” We can flourish in our wilderness times
as well. We can learn the humility
of saying “no” when we are tempted to act as if fulfilling a certain, specific
desire defines our wellbeing. We can learn the humility of saying “no” when we
are tempted to believe only we know what is best for ourselves or for others. In fact, our humble flourishing in
wilderness times can be so strong a witness to our faith that, through it,
others may discover Christ.
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