Even if you’re not Irish, and the most Irish thing you’ve ever done is to eat Lucky Charms, you know all about leprechauns. The one thing that everyone knows about leprechauns is that they love gold. Now, according to Irish tradition, gold can be found in great quantities in pots that languish at the “end of the rainbow.” At the end of every rainbow, guarded by a leprechaun, is a legendary “pot of gold.” There is just one problem with this wonderful tradition… this great legend of the Irish… and that is that no one can ever find the end of a rainbow. Have you ever tried to follow a rainbow from one end to the other? Whichever end you choose to pursue always moves beyond where you are and… basically… you can’t get there from here. The leprechaun’s gold is always safe, because none of us can ever find the end of the rainbow.
In the text that Paul read for us this morning, God has made a covenant with every living creature and has sealed that covenant with a rainbow. The rainbow is the only celestial body given divine importance… a divine imprimatur… in the Old Testament. It is God’s bow and God himself has put that bow in the sky as a sign and a seal of God’s covenant with Noah… God’s promise never to destroy the earth by waters of a flood again. It is interesting to note that the rainbow is also the only celestial… or “heavenly”… event that begins and ends upon this earth. The rainbow is the divine, heavenly symbol that intentionally bonds itself to this world, both at its beginning and at its end. Even if we cannot find the end, we know that the end is with us on this earth.
The first Sunday of Lent is usually devoted to looking down the long journey to the still obscure miracle of Easter. We may not be able to see it now, but we know it is coming. No matter how intentional our Lenten meditations… no matter what we may “give up” for Lent… no matter how focused we may be on the tragedy of the crucifixion… we still know we are looking forward… through all of these intermediate steps… to the sunrise of Easter morning… to colored eggs… to spring mornings… and to the transforming joy of the Resurrection. It is hard to pretend that we don’t know how the story ends.
But the fact is that… even though we may know the “rest of the story,” as Paul Harvey used to say… most of us don’t even consider the “middle” of this journey. We don’t think about that part of the story that drives the plot to its glorious conclusion. To understand the full weight of the glory of the resurrection, we need to understand the heart of this divine drama… the day that Jesus died and his descent into hell. That was the day that bought our salvation… the day that he went where we were supposed to go… where we are condemned to go by our own words and deeds… our own thoughts and desires… our own selfish ways in a selfishly wayward world. 2 Corinthians 5 tells us that Christ, the only righteous one, became sin so that we might become righteous. He became sin… he who was pure… and holy… and without blemish… became everything that he was not… so that we could be reconciled to God.
We cannot begin to imagine what he must have suffered in that awful day, when his despair was so great that his cry from the cross was one that still tears at our hearts, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” He took all of our sin on himself and he died… once for all… as our text tells us, in order to bring us to God. Jesus himself said: “Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life for his friends.” And then he said, “You are my friends.” Are we? “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” How simple is that? But do we obey? Do we even try? As we go about our daily tasks, do we even think about our Savior? Do we see his face before us? Do we walk in his footsteps? What would help me remember him? Those corn chips I’ve given up for Lent? Not if they are not there!
I usually avoid temptation by staying away from those things that are most likely to tempt me. I keep the things that I have given up for Lent out of the house so that I will not be tempted. And, in past years, I have even avoided Tex-Mex restaurants during Lent, because many of them put corn chips on the table… and I really don’t have much will power where corn chips are concerned. Last night, it occurred to me that it is pretty easy to give up something you never see… something you don’t think about, because its not there. If I am truly trying to remember my Savior and all that he has done for me, wouldn’t it be better to have those corn chips around me all the time… a bagful in every room? In every drawer of my desk? On top of the TV? Next to my recliner? In my computer case? Would that drive it home? He gave up everything for me… even his life. What have I given up for him? Anything? Come to think of it… corn chips sound kind of trite.
From the depths of hell, God raised this Jesus from the dead. And exalted him forever. Through our baptism, we participate in the life… death… and resurrection of Jesus Christ… we die to our sins and are raised to new life in him. Coming from water… this symbol of the primordial flood… we are born anew as God, though his Spirit, creates new life out of chaos. Jesus Christ walked this path before us… showing us the way. This stone, which the builders rejected, is now the cornerstone… and we, through our baptism, become heirs with Christ to the Kingdom. Seated on the right hand of God for eternity, Jesus intercedes on our behalf… and we who are the sheep of his fold, sit forever on his right… redeemed by the blood of his sacrifice. We… who have come through the waters… will receive our crown of gold. When we come to the end of our rainbow… we will find our pot of gold. It has been promised to us in God’s covenant… sealed by Christ’s blood.
George Bass, in his book The Tree, The Tomb and The Trumpet, tells this story about his dog, Copper, an Irish Setter. “He is over fourteen years old… nearly blind… partially deaf… has arthritis… and a chronic infection that flares up every now and then. Only his nose seems to work well; it still takes over when I turn him loose in our backyard. But frequently I remember the first time I turned him out into the backyard… he had never been off a leash during the first six months of his life. He gingerly stepped off our back step into the first snow of a Minnesota winter. He took a few tentative steps in the snow and then, suddenly, he discovered that he was not on a leash this time. He began to run wildly, in circles, and he dashed around the large, fenced-in backyard, leaping into the air, twisting and turning in a glorious dance of freedom and joy. He was meant to have this kind of life… free from ropes and leashes… free from people who would not let him run as he was meant to.”
There is a utube video of a dog named Bailey playing in deep snow that is a joy to watch… that puts a smile on my face every time I see it. It has been viewed almost five million times. Why? It is a picture of delightful abandonment… of ecstatic joy. That is the joy that is ours as the children of God… children of the promise. George Bass says that… in the reality of his dog’s old age and infirmity… he carries this picture of his young puppy’s wild dance in the snow in his head. So it is with us. As we grow older, we rest in the promise of our baptism… the promise that we are forever children of God and we can feel the ecstasy of the day we first believed … the day we first knew that we were truly loved… in our hearts. Christ died once for all… and no one can take that away from us. That is God’s promise to us… sealed with water and the Spirit… revealed in the rainbow in the heavens. Through his death on the cross, as George Bass says, “Christ turned the clock back to the very beginning… to the Garden that God created… and has renewed our broken relationship with his Father and ours so that we really have new life in and through him, our Lord.” He gave his all for us. What have we given for him?
When Julian was in seventh grade, we had a yellow lab puppy named Polar Bear. That dog loved water. You could not keep him away from it. If you filled up the bathtub at night and forgot to close the door, it was only a matter of seconds before the rest of your evening was dictated to you. Bear would launch himself from the door of the bathroom into the tub. By the time he was through, there was very little water left in the tub… and the bathroom was an unholy mess. I have often wished that I could capture his joy in that water and somehow share it in every baptism that I do. Would that we could revel in the water that seals our redemption us the way that that dog reveled in any water he ever saw! Most of us don’t even think about our baptism. Yet it is that act that unites us with Jesus Christ and makes us part of the family of God. The water is symbolic of the work of the Holy Spirit which cleanses us and renews us. We are released from the bondage of sin, which… like the dog’s leash… has kept us bound to a life that was not the life that God wants us to share with him. Freed from our sin, we are reconciled with God and begin a new life in Jesus Christ.
This is a gift of God that we cannot buy. This is a gift born of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ that we can never repay. It is a gift that should put a smile on our faces ever day of our lives… leading us to revel in life as Bear would revel in water. It is a gift that comforts us as we approach our final journey… for once received, this gift is ours forever. the prophet Isaiah shares God’s promise in this way: “Do not fear,” says the Lord, “for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you… for I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” Jesus, our Redeemer, has given everything for us… and, on the Last Day, will stand with us as our advocate. That promise was given to us in our baptism… and the waters of baptism are the sign and seal of that gift. Do you believe? Then why aren’t you smiling… laughing… and dancing through every day of your life? Your God loves you. His bow is in the sky. Your Brother has redeemed you. His cross stands before you. He has given everything for you… even his life. What have you given for him? Amen. 1
Peter 3:18-22