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alive, beginnings, Celtic Treasure, Christ, Easter, faith, Holy Week, hope, Jesus, John Philip Newell, Lent, love, new life, promise, solace, sorrow, stay the course, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, turmoil
For so many people I have encountered in so many places recently, life seems to be a continual walk in the dark. For Christians who are following the path of Lent, walking with Jesus ever closer to the events of what we call Holy Week, the heaviness of these days can be an opportunity even as we find our energy sapped by news of a world in deep turmoil. Another school shooting yesterday, panic in Austin, Texas over serial bomb explosions, wildly destructive coastal storms and personal tragedies or disappointments leave us wondering when and how it will all end. Will Easter bring us solace and the promise of new life?
Today it is a prayer from John Philip Newell’s book, Celtic Treasure, that calls me to consciousness. May it be a reminder and an encouragement for us to “stay the course” in hope, clinging to the transformative power of faith and love.
You are within and among us, O Christ, as the one who is alive for ever. In the sorrows and sufferings of our lives you are with us as the one who holds the keys of new beginnings. There is no ending in the world, there is no fear in our lives, there is no despair in our hearts, that your living presence cannot unlock. You are within and among us, O Christ, as the one who is alive for ever. (p. 214)
Sometimes I think we can get carried away doing penance during Lent. I must admit that for many years I refused to talk about the need for repentance because I thought life held enough challenge and people I knew needed nothing more to feed their poor self-esteem. I have now come, I hope, to a healthier place where admission of imperfection lives in concert with a willingness to reform. This is the message that stands out to me in the lectionary readings for today, clarifying God’s desire for us and urging us on from the very first words.
Two things occur to me as I read the lectionary texts for this First Sunday of Lent. Initially, as the sky clears after a night of snow here, Genesis announces God’s promise of the covenant that never again shall all bodily creatures be destroyed by the waters of a flood. I muse that I haven’t seen a rainbow – that amazing sign of God’s covenant – for a very long time. It’s not that I haven’t looked, nor do I think God has had a change of mind, but it does make one wonder – in light of all the devastating floods this past year – if we are paying enough attention. Happily we now know the vastness of the world as well as the cooperation that has been manifested after each tragedy, allowing the restoration of stricken areas through generosity and teamwork.
In the wake of another mass shooting in a high school yesterday where all reports were of a system that was prepared for such an incident, it seems futile to talk about all the security measures that were in place. How was a single gunman able to kill 17 people? Will we ever be able to stop such things from happening by shoring up our defenses? Are we not called for something more transformative? Isaiah thinks so.
As the curtain opens on another season of Lent and we gear up for repentance and renewal, the prophet Joel is way out ahead of us announcing God’s invitation. “Even now,” God says…”Even now,” the poet Christopher Fry writes in the play, A Sleep of Prisoners, “when wrong comes up to face us till we take the longest stride of soul we ever took…” 
My first thoughts on this fifth Sunday of Lent centered around my relatively low level of attention for what (in my experience anyway) was always called “the holy season of Lent.” I do not disparage that title; more Christians are likely aware of religious practice during these six weeks than at any other time in the year. It makes me wonder, however, why the fervor doesn’t often last throughout the fifty days of the Easter season. Perhaps we find it easier to do penance than to rejoice! If so, what does that have to say about our image of God? But I digress…
I’ve thought and talked a lot about mercy, especially since I came to understand that it has more to do with love than with pity. At the conclusion of the “Year of Mercy” declared by Pope Francis, it was suggested that we continue to keep that virtue front and center in our lives. Not a bad idea, it seems, in our broken, frustrating world as we attempt to maintain equilibrium and good faith each day.
During the season of Lent it is not unusual to see part or all of Psalm 51 show up as the response to the first reading in our lectionary. It is the season when repentance for our faults is traditionally front and center and God’s mercy is a constant call. Psalm 51 is uniquely suited to those themes and appears again today for our consideration.
It seems too soon to say that we are on the verge of springtime. Did you know that is the meaning of the word Lent? It sounds funny to some of us living in the Northeast who know the possibility of still more snowstorms before the season really comes. Moreover, I doubt there are many of us who were taught associations with that word that rivaled the beauty of the season of spring. We face into Lent with visions of penance, deprivation and sacrifice. (How many of us have never given up chocolate for Lent?) There’s nothing wrong with any practice we might take on in Lent as long as the goal is spiritual growth without grumbling. I’m one of those whose Lenten practice has taken on a more positive spin in my adulthood. Rather than giving up something that tastes good, I try to do something that takes me out of my way for someone else’s good. And I try to smile while doing it, even if it isn’t my favorite thing to do.
