A Pattern of Work and Worship and Rest

Homily for Sunday, March 16, 2025
Second Sunday of Lent
Luke 13:31-35
by our seminarian, Allison Brown

Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.

Please be seated.

Today, tomorrow and the next day, a rhythm that guides a particular pattern. Back and forth this phrase creates a rhythm that we enter into during the second Sunday in Lent. It functions much like a Metronome. Today-the dial shifts left clicking, tomorrow the dial shifts right click. The next day-back again on the left. We all have rhythms, ways that shape our journey in life, in liturgical seasons, in this Lenten time. The pace we enter into-working during the week and coming to Trinity Church on Sunday for worship, the practice of self-sacrifice or “taking on” during the week and Sunday resting from that discipline, slowing down and choosing to not speak certain words during Lent until we proclaim them loudly at Eastertide…

We all have rhythms; little ways that mark time as we go through our days. For me, on Tuesday mornings I enter into my office at McLean hospital, turn on the lights and walk to my desk where I turn on the computer, slide off my traveling shoes, place my badge on the desk, unpack my charging chord and place my lotion and Chapstick on the desk. Finding a devotional for the day I reflect and then I enter into the rhythm of the hospital as I go about my clinical hours on the unit visiting patients. Breathing out my metronome shifts to the right and Tuesday evening arrives- I enter into the silence of the darkened chapel at SSJE, slip off my coat and place it on the hard wooden pew next to me, place the black Daily Office book on the pew top; turn to the compline section, bookmark the appointed psalms and hymn and shift settling into my seat before turning my attention to the stone arches. Entering into a new rhythm I wait to join others in prayer. I find myself living into a pattern of work and worship and rest.

Today, tomorrow and the next day shapes our movement. It provides structure to our life. Being shaped into a life of faith is not about one step and its done, rather living a life of faith is about leaning into God’s vision for the world even when it extends beyond this day. You and I do this yes, and even more wonderful is that we have examples of those who lived this pattern well.  Abram is one an example of a faithful life, a life that had room for doubts and wonderings. In our reading this morning we met Abram questioning God if the promise was empty, going before God boldly with honesty about his own hesitation. He demands certainty, perhaps born out of a need for structure, for purpose to his tomorrow and next day. I find Lent to be a time of questioning,of questions being asked of me as well as the ones I carry deep inside before God. It is in the questioning I find room to breathe, to pause and re-center my life aligning back ever more closely into who God calls me to become. And by the end of the reading when Abram puts his trust in God, he re-commits to patterning his life in a rhythm of being in relationship with the God who blessed him.

Likewise,Jesus declares that he will keep working today, tomorrow and the next day. He patterns his life around a ministry that leads towards Jerusalem. We must remember that for Jesus as a first century Jew, this city was the center of the world in a way. He comes from a Jewish family that most likely went to Jerusalem for the annual pilgrimage festivals. As much as this was a usual pattern for him, he knew his life was to get a whole lot harder as his public ministry continues. Jesus leans into God’s vision for the world by choosing to remain faithful even knowing it will get harder, committing to the work until the very end. We hear from the Gospel passage “he set his face to go to Jerusalem,” an urgent journey that we see unfolding in the next several chapters. His recommitment to this rhythm seeks to remind those traveling with him that Jesus’s future was not for Herod to decide, but rather for God to ordain.

Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.

When Jesus speaks, I must be on my way, he is pivoting away from the norm of his day where people stayed in one place for their life. Home for many of us today is a loose geographical term: here today, and another place tomorrow. It is rare to stay in one location or even state in our world today. We cannot truly understand the shift Jesus is making in this statement until we realize land was a crucial part of one’s identity in the ancient world. In those cultures, home was where you were born, die and then pass onto your next generation. In the ancient world giving land as gifts was a gift of home, of identity and of belonging. This explains why Abram was so distraught over not having children to pass his inheritance down to. Land shapes the people who live and work on it. The land itself becomes part of their identity. And Jesus is not denying his identity, his inheritance as tied to land, to the city of Jerusalem. Rather Jesus is suggesting God’s mission is beyond one location, beyond the daily rhythms that tied him to this one city.Today, tomorrow and the next day…a coming and going. It leads me to wonder where we find ourselves on the continuum of this Lenten journey-what are we traveling with that we should leave behind and what is necessary as we journey towards the cross? When Jesus says he must be on his way, he knows exactly what land he must travel. Do we? What is your intention for this season of Lent? Because need an intent to know where we are going on this journey.

Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.

Today, tomorrow, and the next day, I must be on my way, says Jesus in recognition of the fate awaiting him in Jerusalem. The work of today, tomorrow and the next day is the work of healing. As Jesus goes about his daily work of healing and deliverance, he is also aware of his destination. Since the beginning of his ministry in Luke4, this has been the work that Jesus has done. Upon the start he makes his way away from his hometown in Nazareth, another city that rejected him, towards Jerusalem where he will once again face rejection. Jesus’ priority does not seem to be his own safety. He instead is concerned about following the God’s purpose that does not take him away from danger. Rather it leads him directly into it and through it. He knows he is headed to Jerusalem and to his death. But he commits to the healing of people,the feeding of the crowds, the building up of the apostles, the teaching in the Temple. In the daily ministry Jesus sets his mind to the rhythm of God’s ministry, wherever it may lead him.

Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.

During this season of Lent, a common practice towards self-examination is asking what do we long for and desire. When Jesus says,“Jerusalem,” he is longing, and grieving for a city that he loves. Remember Jerusalem was the center of his world. The deep love Jesus carries for the city isn’t without knowing their full story; their sins and their history of killing prophets. Yet he longs to for those people to be safe, to make the part of a blessed community where they could grow and know God’ s love which could only happen if they were willing to let Jesus in. And they were not willing. How that must have broken Jesus’s heart. And so he grieves, he laments as a form of prayer. Part of the rhythm we carry as Christians gives us permission, space to lament. For they are valid prayers heard by God, because we are fragile humans in a broken world. Where might you find space this Lent for the practice or rhythm of lament? Perhaps it is in the prayers of the people during worship you find your heart honest before God. Or maybe it is in the trusted conversation with a dear friend on a morning walk or phone call. Maybe its in the breaking of the bread, as we gather around the table offering ourselves before God. Wherever you may find it, the pattern of joy and lament carries us on towards God’s vision for the world.

We all have rhythms; patterns that shape our journey in life. May we have the courage to set our faces and hearts towards where God is calling us this Lent.

Amen.