WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE - March 1, 2009
Sat, 03/07/2009 - 20:21 — admin
WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE
Mark 1:9-15
When my son Chris was little we enjoyed reading together the wonderful, beautifully illustrated story by Maurice Sendak: Where the Wild Things Are. It’s about a little boy who, in the dark of night, is confronted by the scariest, ugliest wild creatures that one can imagine. He eventually confronts the beasts, stands up to them, and makes them his friends.
It’s not hard to understand why children love this story. It’s about those dreaded figures that terrify children when they are in bed, the light is turned off and objects in the room take on ominous, spectral forms. To confront those nocturnal fears, to stare them down, and make them friends is comforting to young hearts.
Most of us here now are adults. We no longer scream when the lights are turned out and we lie there in the dark. We know that’s not a ghost; it’s only our bathrobe hanging on the door. That’s not a beast crouching, ready to jump; it’s only the chair in the corner. We’re no longer afraid of the dark. We know that there’s nothing in the dark waiting to jump us.
The question is, are we justified in not having a fear of the dark? If we are honest, we admit that in this world there are wild things to fear. They are the shadow side of reality, those deep, dark chaotic forces of evil, sin, suffering, and death that arise from time to time and challenge us. But first they challenged Jesus. He confronted them, stood up to them, defeated them – and we have the assurance that he will help us do the same.
According to Mark’s gospel, immediately after being baptized by John, Jesus was driven into the wilderness, where he found himself side by side with wild beasts and angels.
I picture one of thosenature shows you sometimes see on TV. A lion is stalking an antelope. Suddenly, the lion charges, opens its mouth, and rips into the neck of the antelope. There’s a flash of thrashing limbs; the dust and grass instantly vermilion.
Mark does not describe the wild beasts in any detail, but it’s easy to imagine them, lying in wait, crouching, ready to overwhelm Jesus. Alone, and among wild animals, Jesus faced the violence at the heart of things. He was tested; tempted; tempered for the violence to come.
Yet angels cared for him. I think of the angels in my office: the first one a gift of comfort when I had cancer surgery; others given for encouragement through months of chemotherapy; then more as tokens of celebration for restored health and continued faith. They remind me that while he was in the wilderness, angels took care of Jesus. The angels are as convincing about the love that lives at the heart of things as the lions are about the violence.
Wild beasts and angels – knowing them from the start of his ministry made Jesus a realist, one whose belief squared with the actuality of all that is. Not the bitter belief that there is nothing but cruelty and violence in the world. Not the naïve belief that life is sweetness and light. But the resilient belief of the Gospel: there are terrors, and there are gracious powers to help us face them.
This is the good news for the first Sunday in Lent. Today’s Gospel reminds us that Jesus has come, not only to be our comforter and guide, but also to be our companion and defender when we stand face-to-face with the wild things that threaten to overwhelm us. And Jesus Christ is not only the Son of God, Savior of the world, from the first, he is also the one who confronts and defeats the wild beasts.
When you must walk where the wild things are – the cancer ward, the pain of injustice, the valley of the shadow of death, the places of hate – know this: Jesus was there before you. You do not walk alone.