Jesus Set His Face
The following reflection was written for the Eagle Wing, a quarterly publication of Groomsport Presbyterian Church.
During the season of Lent, the church enters a time of reflection and repentance as we walk with Jesus along the road that leads to Jerusalem. We are all too familiar with the end of the road, for this is the road that leads to the events surrounding Jesus’ death on the cross on Good Friday and victory on Easter Morning. It can be tempting to gloss over the journey and focus on the destination; to gloss over the hardship and trial, and focus on the victory and glory. For many of us, we would much rather sing the triumphant chorus of Jesus Christ is Risen Today than the somber Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?
The call of Lent, however, is to spend time on the journey; to walk along the hard and dirty road. In Luke’s telling of the Gospel we hear that, “When the days drew near for him [Jesus] to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” (Lk 9:51, NRSV) For the next ten chapters we follow Jesus as he makes his way, teaching and healing. In the midst of all the activity, it can be easy to forget that Jesus has set his face to Jerusalem; some commentators draw the link to a passage from the prophet Isaiah, where we are told, “The Lord God helps me…therefore I have set my face like flint.” (Is 50:7, NRSV) Jesus has steadfastly determined his path; he knows his calling, and what it will cost him. Simply put, he knows this journey will cost him his life.
In 2012, hymn writer Gregg DeMey set this journey to music in his new hymn Jesus Set His Face. Using the Carmina Gadelica, a book on ancient Celtic poems, alongside new writing, he wrote of Jesus’ trial along the path. DeMey writes in the verses:
“Coming down from heaven above, coming down to earth from glory,
coming down from heaven above, coming down to grief and worry.
Singing psalms, the pilgrims climb, reenact the ancient story.
Singing psalms the people climb; lamb and bread, redemption’s story.
Crying for the children lost, crying for the lonely, sorry.
Crying for a city lost, crying for the pained and gory.
Walking down the lonely path, footsteps fall with premonition.
Walking down the lonely path, full of purpose, hope and vision.
Rising up to Calvary’s hill, up the mount of shame and glory.
Rising up Golgotha hill, up to claim the final victory.”
Even Jesus’ closest disciples didn’t understand the path they were walking, even when he was very clear at the cost.
I wonder if we make the same mistake. Do we fully understand the cost of the path of discipleship? Do we have the ability to see where the path we are following may lead? For in this Lenten season, my friends, let us be clear: the path of Christ leads to death. For most of us, God willing, it will not be a martyrs death on a cross, but rather a spiritual death. It will be the death of our old selves; those parts of us that cling tightly to the values of this broken and pain-filled world. It is the death that we see symbolized in the waters of baptism, where the old life is washed away, and where we rise to new life.
So, in this Lenten season, will you set your face to Jerusalem? Will you be determined to see what goodness and grace God has waiting just around the next bend in the road? Will your path be full of purpose, hope, and vision? It will not be an easy road, but we need not walk it alone, for Jesus has already walked the way, and he will be our strength and guide. Come, for the road is waiting for you!