No. 47. >> The suffering servant is a powerful image of Lent. How can it help us to lead people on a spiritual journey during the solemn season? >>DR. DANIEL L. GARD: In some ways the church seems to have lost the power of Lent as a season. And at least in my view, that's a tragic loss. While repentance is certainly to be a theme throughout the church year, just as Easter is not confined to a single Sunday but, in fact, dominates through every occasion of preaching, every occasion that God's people gather. And in fact, fills everybody's life from morning to evening and through the night that Jesus Christ is risen. Nonetheless, we sometimes relegate these things to other more contemporary issues. I saw one listing, for example, of alternative Sundays of different kinds of celebrations ranging from everything from LWML Sunday to Life Sunday and many, many others. Some very noble. Some perhaps less so. And it would be entirely possible to go through and almost a complete church year and never acknowledge the historical seasons of the church. I hope that our churches can again find the renewal, the spiritual journey, that pilgrimage that is to be Lent. That 40 days prior to Easter. During that season, texts like Isaiah 53 play a huge role. Because they set before God's people the image of God as the redeemer. And the price of that redemption. The liturgical color throughout Lent is purple, the color of penitence. And in fact, on Good Friday, that deepest and darkest day of the Lenten season, the color from red or from purple to black. Or if you don't have black paraments, the altar is simply stripped of any kind of paraments. The lights go out. And the darkness that was Calvary is set before people. Those days leading up to Holy Week are hugely significant. My children seem to think that the main point of penitence in Lent is that you have to go to church on Wednesday as well as Sunday. Now perhaps you have members also who see it that way. But there's much more to it. It's a daily reminder of the cost of our salvation. Isaiah 53, again, is a text that does speak to this Lenten season. And to be honest with you, I always approach that part of the church year with a little trepidation of my own. Because I know that I, like most people, in fact, probably all people, need Lent. Whether I want -- whether I want it or not. We need to be confronted with the eternal truth about ourselves and about God. That produces some real conflicts within us as we deal with God's righteous demands and our own inadequacies. But it is in that conflict that we begin to understand and appreciate what it is that Isaiah the prophet spoke of in Isaiah 53. At the core and center of our life as Christians, we find comfort and hope in words which are to be written on the heart of all who would be called Christian. Words like: He was wounded for our transgressions. Notice how Isaiah points to all that is event. And labels it our weakness. Our grief. Our transgressions. Our inequities. Not Christ's. But our's. We are, according to Isaiah, like sheep that have gone astray. Turning to our own way. Here is where the first conflict of Lent arrives. We are not permitted by the Holy Spirit to rewrite the words and say it is their weaknesses, their sorrow, their transgressions or their inequities. God will permit no one from turning these words around as if he were talking about somebody else or something else. These words are what Martin Luther called the thunderbolt of the law. That thunderbolt that strikes at the heart of the sinner. We cannot divert nor deflect the power of Isaiah's words. When we see that Isaiah speaks of us, we begin to see the world and its forces for what they are. They are not benign. They are not comforting. But they are poisonous and condemning. A world like ours. Where war, crime, abortion and other evils flourish is the result of people just like us. We are divided from each other. And as the corruption of our human nature manifests itself, yet even more than that is the separation which sin brings between the human being and God. That's the great gulf that no one can cross. God is holy and yet we're sinful. That's no small issue. It's the matter of life and death. That is life and death eternal. Saint Paul the great apostle wrote: O, wretched man that I am. Who will deliver me from this body of death? As that thunderbolt of the law strikes, as it strikes, it condemns us all. It hits home. Then we cry out with Paul and look to God for an answer. That answer was also given by Isaiah. All of our weakness and grief and transgressions and inequity was placed on someone else. It's one thing to have said -- to say: I have sinned. And quite another to say: My sin is on the Lamb of God. Yet this is the only release that there is for us. Sin brings death. And must be paid for. No ifs, ands or buts about that. But sin has been paid for by one who has made an offering for sin. Not his. But ours. And as Isaiah said, Jesus was wounded for our transgressions. Bruised for our inequities. This is how we see the love of God. That while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. This then is the message of the Lenten season. It is true that we have sinned and earned God's eternal wrath. Yet in its place, God has given to us the Christ. The Savior. The one who has redeemed the world. Though we have not desired it, nor have we sought it, God has loved us with a love that has no end. He has willed our salvation. The atonement of the cross in his eternal plan -- rather, is his eternal plan for you and for me. Jesus died to give you eternal life. Now, here, too, is the conflict of Lent. It is a conflict of eternal and, in fact, cosmic proportions. God is at work in us to battle that rebellion to which we are inclined. So often we want to live our lives as if the words wounded for our transgressions were written for the benefit of others rather than us. It's a thought beyond comprehension that our guilt and shame was such that could only be borne by the innocent Son of God. And yet here is the one truth that turns men and women from lost and condemned sinners to righteous saints. The righteous one makes us righteous. Without that, we remain lost. But through faith we are released. Thus, Lent becomes that vital season in the Christian's life where we follow our Savior from the Mount of Transfiguration to the valley and ultimately to the cross. And it's in that valley that one finds richness. Many years ago -- or actually not that many years ago. Several years ago I was allowed by the Navy several times to go to the island of Sicily. And spent many happy weeks in Sicily enjoying the beauty of that island. The particular place where I was was near the city of Catania. And Catania is dominated by Mount Etna. You may have heard of Mount Etna. It's the most active volcano in Europe. Mount Etna is a beautiful, beautiful mountain. Constantly spewing small bits of lava and steam up in a the air. Occasionally Mount Etna will erupt. In recent centuries it's done no serious damage. But the potential is there. And it's a real potential for the people of Catania. One thing you can do is you can climb to the top of Mount Etna. And you can look out once you reach that highest point. You can look out and you can see the ocean. You can see the land. And it is probably the most glorious vision of God's creation that I've ever experienced. It is absolutely wonderful. It's beautiful. I would love to stay up there and just look at that all the time. The problem is when you look around you when you're up there, you see there simply are no plants, no animals, no real water source. In other words, as beautiful as it is at the top of Mount Etna, you can't live there. You're going to die. There's no nutrients. There's nothing to sustain life at the top of that mountain. When you leave the mountain, you go to the valleys, you find soil that has been enriched over the many centuries of Mount Etna's eruptions and is perhaps the most fertile citrus growing area in Europe. Crops grow in amazing ways on Sicily. And it is a very different environment than on the top of Mount Etna. To live you have to leave the mountain. You have to go down into the valley. Because it's down in the valley where there's the richness of the soil. When Jesus took his disciples to the Mount of Transfiguration, they saw a glorious sight. They saw their Lord now speaking with the Old Testament saints. And Peter was so awed and enraptured by what he saw, he wanted to stay there. He even tells Jesus: Let's make some tents and let's all just kind of stay here. But that was not where Jesus was headed. He took his disciples, including Peter, down from that mount and began his trek through the valley to Jerusalem. There the blood that would redeem the world would be shed. Yes, the disciples wanted to stay on that mountain. But they had to go through the valley. Because at the end of the valley is real life. As you and I lead God's people through Lent, we lead them off of a mountain, down into a valley. But just as with those Sicilian valleys, we lead them into a place where there is good, rich soil. Where roots can be sunk. Where nutrients can be gathered. For life is sustained. There will be mountains. And in every Christian life there are moments of just incredible joy. And it seems as if you can see forever. And everything looks beautiful. And I actually like those mountains. But Lent reminds us that that's not what our Christian life is. We follow the Lamb of God. The suffering servant. And yes, he will lead us into the valley. But he leads us there so that we might have life.