Readings: Exodus 3:1-4, and Mark 1:4-8

“For I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but I believe in order to understand. For this also I believe-that unless I believe I shall not understand.” St. Anselm of Canterbury.

French president Emmanuel Macron said in 2019 when Notre Dame was destroyed by fire, “We will rebuild Notre Dame because that’s what the French people are expecting, because that’s what our history is worthy of. Because that’s our deep destiny.” And, in December 2024, that promise, that destiny was realised when the Cathedral reopened.

In some sense, this burning down and rebuilding is something like our baptism; for in the mystery of God, through our baptism we die to our old self and are reborn to a new life living in the Spirit. In our baptism there is a descent into the grave, a burying of our old self, a burying of our sins in the death of Christ; and a cleansing of our souls by the waters so that we become infants once again relying on a ‘spiritual milk’ as we grow and mature in the faith. (1 Peter 2:2–3).

Yet, as we walk now in the light of Christ, wanderers on the earth, pilgrims on a Highway to Heaven, in His light our wretchedness becomes apparent. No matter how hard we try to be and do good, we see differently with our new eyes. C.S. Lewis said, ‘No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good,’ and this wrestling in the newness of our life ends only in the acceptance of the work done by Jesus on the cross, the acceptance that we cannot save ourselves, and only in Him are we saved. This acceptance and submission to God is our freedom, our freedom to live with Him as new creations, in friendship and with trust.

Moses had been a prince of Egypt, and forty years after his exile, God calls to him through flames of fire.

So Moses thought, “I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up.” (Exodus 3:3). A strange sight because we know and experience the destruction and death caused by fire, including the biblical fires of sacrifice and judgement.

David appeals to the Lord:

To you, Lord, I called;
    to the Lord I cried for mercy:
 “What is gained if I am silenced,
    if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
    Will it proclaim your faithfulness? (Psalm 30:8-9)

And we are reminded, “God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29), yet the bush does not burn; can what is pure be consumed? The plants were made before the sun, on the third day, (Genesis 1:12), symbolising being fed by and depending upon a spiritual light; and leaves move as if following the light of the LORD throughout the day, like the watchman who wait for the dawn.

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. (Isaiah 43:19)

And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

In the discussion on the meaning of the word ‘repent’ or in Greek, metanoia, there are some scriptures that point us toward understanding the cry of John the Baptist, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Matthew 3:2, 4:17, Mark 1:15). Repent is often defined as ‘changing the mind’ and we listen again to the call of Moses, where we find this turning aside, a looking toward and giving of attention to the burning bush.

‘So Moses thought, “I must go over and see this marvellous sight, why the bush is not burning up?“‘ Exodus 3:3.

Moses has reoriented his attention towards seeking, for questions seek answers – and the answer was the God Who is and chose to reveal Himself. Entering into the presence of God, is a recognition of His majesty, ‘take off your sandals’, the Lord says to Moses, (Exodus 3:5) for He reminds us to be humble for we are but dust.

It was a mind turned aside from the world that brought Moses into God’s presence. Yet we also remember the time it took for Moses to be prepared for this moment, working as a Shepherd of his father-in-law Jethro’s flock, a conversion that must have involved a readiness in the heart – for scripture says it is, ‘out of the abundance of the heart a mouth speaks,‘ (Luke 6:45) and it is the tongue that steers or ‘turns’ the whole body toward or away from righteousness, (James 3:1-18).

Therefore the prophetic call to, ‘rend your heart, and not your garments; Return to the LORD your God,’ (Joel 2:13) is like that of the call to repentance, a call to open the heart allowing the Word to split open the stone, and for the kingdom of heaven to come [in our mouths and in our hearts, see also Romans 10:8] like a river of life, with living water, which for John the Baptist is this time coming in the now.

In a previous week we remembered the presentation of the child Jesus in the temple, the meeting of what was, with what is now and is to come, in this scripture all of time has come together as God’s promises to His people are fulfilled. (Lk 2:22-40).

However, St Augustine writes, ‘He who has promised pardon to penitents has not promised tomorrow to sinners; perhaps He will give it, and perhaps He will not.’ And so we are reminded of an exchange between Moses and Pharoah after the second plague of frogs. Moses asks Pharoah when he is to pray to the Lord to clear away the frogs, now I don’t know about you but if my home was filled with a plague of frogs, I would want that to happen straight away, yet Pharoah responds with ‘tomorrow’! (Exodus 8:9-10). So, what are we putting off giving our attention to, what might we be thinking we have the time for? What in prayer and petition to God with and for our neighbour are we putting off for tomorrow? God is pure act, and He wants us to live a life of love in motion; love that begins wherever we are now.  

Tomorrow is promised to no-one. (Proverbs 27:1, James 4:13-15).

St. Sophrony said, ‘“Repent” (Matthew 4.17). We must heed this injunction of Christ’s carefully, radically amend our inner life and our concept of the world; our attitude towards people and every phenomenon in the creature world; not slay our enemies but win them over with love.’

Reminding us that even on the cross, Jesus prayed, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ (Luke 23:34).

“After me comes one more powerful than I, […] I baptize you with water, but he will baptise you with fire.” Jesus tells the disciples and us John the Baptist is Elijah come again. In Elijah’s final earthbound moments, ‘Elijah took his cloak, rolled it up and struck the water with it. The water divided to the right and to the left, and the two of them crossed over on dry ground.’ (2 Kings 2:8). The waters were the river Jordan, the symbolism representing a time of harvest had come (see also Sirach 24:26), a time for repentance, a yes or a no when the wheat and the weeds, the sheep and the goats are divided. Then Elijah was taken up body and soul, in a fire to heaven.

Jesus is the fulfilment of all scripture, fully God, fully man – Emmanuel – God with us. For a short time, He was a little lower than the angels, to demonstrate how precious our humanity is, how much we are loved. Without sin, Jesus leads us showing the way by example – yet His Baptism was also an outward and visible sign of His anointing. Jesus is the golden lampstand prophesied by Zechariah (Zec 4:2-3), Jesus is the light of the world, (John 8:12) and the Holy Spirit is recognised as both oil and fire. (2 Maccabees 1:20, when the eternal fire of the altar was hidden, what was found when rediscovered was a thick oil that blazed with a tremendous flame. ‘And when they reported to us that they had not found fire but only a thick liquid, he ordered them to dip it out and bring it.’)

My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. (John 10:27)

Heaven calls to us every day, we are now a home, we ourselves are temples of the Holy Spirit, the eternal fire burning upon the altar of our hearts. Therefore, as Lent approaches, we remember with penitent and humble hearts that we came from the dust and to the dust we shall return. (Genesis 3:19).

And yet even from this place of penitence we realise our joy in belonging to a vast mystery that is our creation, our life among a universe of stars – a dust once carried by the wind, and yet fully known in an eternal now even before we were born. Nothing we do, or have ever done is a surprise to God, He knows us, and He loves us anyway, longing for us always to stay close in our seeking.

Amen.