There is always something intriguing about a ghost story for young and old alike.  Shakespeare in his Hamlet days knew that and so do the reigning moguls in Hollywood, USA.  We tell them around campfires from the days of our youth, and continue to tell them at cocktail parties and social gatherings.  Perhaps we hope these tales will tell us about our lives beyond the funeral parlor. And perhaps we tell them because they bear a bit of our hope/belief that there is something more than what we can just see out there.  Namely this truth: Our lives, somehow, are caught up in a story that does not end with our death, even though we don’t know how, even though, while in the middle of them, we can’t be sure how it will turn out. 

On that count, the Transfiguration arguably is the most important ghost story ever told. In that moment on the mountain, Christ allows us a peek at our transformed selves.  Though it was not the ghost of Jesus they were looking at, certainly Christ in his glory, accompanied by Moses and Elijah was NOT something they had ever seen before, nor would they again.  It was a moment when they KNEW that there is something MORE to this world than can be experienced on this side of eternity.  And, in addition to looking on Christ's majesty, the disciples caught a glimpse at what their own future state would be - a condition we hopefully will share.  

But before the disciples could get too wrapped up in that vision of ‘heaven’ - Jesus tells them in no uncertain terms – don’t share the vision till after the son of man had risen from the dead.  And his disciples didn’t get it.  We want it to always be like this.  No doubts, no fears, no questions.  And Jesus says – no dice.  Life does not work like that.  Either you trust because you trust, or you don’t.  

Abraham and Isaac learn that lesson.  Abraham knew two truths.  God had promised him to be the father of countless generations in faith, granting him the gift of Isaac at an impossible age.  And that same God was asking him to sacrifice his only son.  This sacrifice of Isaac is called the AKEDAH or BINDING of Isaac in the Jewish tradition. When you think about this story, in your mind’s eye, how old is Isaac?  There is a line of Jewish thought in some of the extra-testamental literature, that Isaac is a grown man when this happens  About 30.  He carries the wood himself.  He consents to be sacrificed.  He has Abram bind his arms so he can’t resist.  This sacrifice takes place at Passover time on the site of the current temple mount.  Abraham’s prayer is that because of his obedience and Isaac’s consent, God will remember and bless their descendents.  But facing his son on that altar, -all he could ‘know’, all he could hope for, all he could believe was that he was part of a bigger story, who’s end he could not see, and the how of which, seemed to be beyond his understanding.   

Because of their faith, we hear the promise given to him.  “I will make your descendents as numerous as the stars in the heavens.”  Though I have no Jewish blood in me at all, I can stand before you and tell you that I am descendent of Abraham.  For every believer there comes a moment when you have to make that same risk of faith that Abraham did.  Where you have to make the same commitment as Isaac did – to trust in God when you don’t see.  For Abraham and Isaac’s testing is our testing.  Will you believe in something that you cannot see, in a future that will only be found in the dying of your will and the rising into God’s trust and love?   

Abraham trusted that there was a future beyond what he could see or figure out.  The disciples got a glimpse of it, but were told that the path lies through suffering and death.  You and I are invited to that same trust, in very concrete ways this Lent.  Will you trust God, even in the darkness, even when you can’t see how it will turn out?  Will you sacrifice how you think it has to be, so as to follow God’s plan and not your own, in great love and trust?  It’s easy to ask that question.  It is hard to live it in the dark.  Some say it is easier to believe in ghosts…

Mark ’s gospel gives us the readers digest version of the temptation in the wilderness.  There is no ‘recorded’ conversation of the devil and Jesus, no ‘bread to stones’, ‘throwing yourself from the top of the temple’ nor ‘prostrating before Satan’ to be found.  In fact there is not much of a prelude to the event before Jesus is in the midst of his struggle.  However, there are eight key words that make it all work in Mark’s gospel.  “The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert.”  And for Mark, that is all you need to know about that experience.   

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert.  What a fascinating line to pray into.  Fresh from hearing that voice that He longed to hear since the day of his birth, - the voice that each of us longs to hear from our birth, if we are honest: “that we are loved by our Father” – the Spirit steps in.  Almost as if to say:  “Jesus, don’t let your identity as the ‘beloved of God’ tempt you in the wrong way.  Don’t let it become “all about you”.  Rather, reflect, pray, fast, purify – do all the things that a harsh physical climate can do for you, in terms of putting everything into perspective. Then you’ll understand what it means to be the beloved son.  Then you’ll know what I want for you on your journey.”  So the Spirit DRIVES Jesus into the harshness of the desert so that he can put what his baptism means into perspective.     

And what do you notice when he comes back from that retreat?  What happened to him in the desert:  “The kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent and believe in the good news.”  Notice, there is not a word in Jesus’ inaugural address about Jesus.  It is all focused on announcing what God is doing, all focused on proclaiming the kingdom and calling everyone to accept what that means in their lives.  The Spirit DRIVES Jesus to that place of testing so that he can understand what being the beloved means.   

And that is true for us as well if we let this lent be for us the time of grace God wishes it to be.  We are to be DRIVEN into our own wildernesses, our own deserts – there to be purified.  In our own deserts, we are to learn what our Baptisms mean – what it means to follow Christ unto to the end.  This morning, in a few minutes, we are going to call forward those who are preparing for Baptism, as well as those preparing for reception into the church and those preparing for confirmation.  We’ll send them to the Cathedral – there to be ‘chosen by the church for the Easter Sacraments’ – there to pray and reflect about what this movement of faith means for them.  Like Jesus, these whom the Father is calling by name, are invited to uncover the mission behind their status as God’s sons and daughters.   

Into what deserts do you need to go to this lent?  Physically, that is hard for us to do in this city with three rivers and sometimes too much water.  But let me suggest three other kinds of deserts: 

There’s the desert of unforgiveness – either with yourself or a neighbor or family member: the mistake that cost us our job, the wrong word spoken at the wrong time, the petty feud that started over something trivial but now has built itself into a deafening silence.  Spend some time in that desert land to seek or to give the forgiveness that is necessary. 

There’s the desert of self-denial.  Some of that is being forced upon us in the changes in our global economy – we realize we can no longer afford everything our heart desires.  But go a further step – that step of sacrificing something that you want and CAN afford – and give that money to a needy family for tuition assistance, or to a homeless shelter or a food line. 

The desert of discipline in our prayer life.  Perhaps the hardest of all – this is the desert that invites us to continue to pray even when it is inconvenient or we think we’ve exhausted all that God wants to teach us.  Make the choice to stay an extra 5 minutes in that time of prayer – asking specifically to be shown what God’s mission is for you. 

The Spirit DROVE Jesus out into the desert.  Might we go with him…