March 9, Lent 1 (Psalm 91:1–2, 9–16; Romans 10:8b–13; Luke 4:1–13)
God chooses to draw near—and to draw us out of ourselves.
Nearness is more than proximity. Strangers can stand side by side on a subway platform while remaining galaxies apart. Lovers can be on opposite sides of an ocean and still be one in heart and mind. In this Sunday’s gospel text, Jesus is far away from God. He is in a desert place. He is tempted by the devil. And yet, God still draws near. When Jesus confesses the convictions of his heart, his words are not only enough to keep temptation at bay. They also reveal the nearness of two—Father and Son—who are perfectly aligned and near in a way that transcends proximity.
It is helpful to keep the paradoxical nature of nearness in mind as we turn to this week’s epistle lesson. This text from Romans can be read as a theological reflection on nearness. Through the gift of the Word made flesh, God draws near to us and we—by grace—are bestowed with the capacity to draw near to one another. In six concise verses, Paul reveals who God is and who we—graced by the gift of God’s preeminent Word, Jesus Christ—may now choose to become.
“The word is very near to you,” says Moses (Deut. 30:14). In Paul’s hands this cherished verse implies that God chooses to be something other than spectator or voyeur. A spectator stays seated in the stands. A voyeur remains crouched behind the keyhole. In the Word made flesh, God comes alongside us, close enough to touch. God kneels to wash our feet and then, for us, takes on the cross. When we—in grateful response—take the Word made flesh into our hearts, our whole lives become oriented around a new center. The words of our mouths express our deepest convictions, and this allows us to become more for each other than either acquaintance or stranger. An acquaintance merely glances, while a stranger is free to turn away. Yet with God’s Word in our hearts, we stand face to face. We begin to see one another with the eyes of Christ.
