I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. 

Book of Common Prayer, Liturgy for Ash Wednesday, p. 265

In the Anglican-Episcopal tradition, the liturgical season of Lent begins with an invitation to participate in the observance of the season.  Active engagement in the season of preparation for Easter is for all Christians, lay people and ordained ministers alike.   It’s not simply a matter of “giving up something  for Lent.”  The “something” is often a little luxury that a person enjoys, but thinks is probably bad for them, like chocolate. The liturgy does not mention chocolate, or meat on Fridays!  Instead, the invitation is to look deep within oneself, in self-examination and repentance for the sinfulness that we all find there when our self-appraisals are honest.  Prayer, fasting, and self-denial are all time-honored spiritual disciplines that are encouraged throughout the year, but practiced in a more focused way during Lent.  The result is a picture of ourselves as God sees us, which leads to authentic contrition and commitment to follow God’s plan for us. 

During Lent we may practice self-denial by giving something up, or by taking something on that will benefit those who rely on God’s providence most.  When Lenten observance is grounded and shaped by engagement with God’s Word, we are assured that we are following God’s direction and not our own self-centered wishes.  Granted, it’s not as straightforward as giving up chocolate or meat, but it’s not complicated either.  In fact, the intent is to un-complicate this contemplative season.  Well-thought-through rules eliminate the stress of worrying whether we’re doing something “right,” and they help simplify decision-making, thus reducing stress.  For example, if your Lenten commitment is to attend a Lenten program such as a mid-week worship service or study, there is no decision to be made each week on Wednesday.   Attendance is a given.   Attention is freed up to focus on the message and content of the event.

Rather than being worrisome weights, spiritual disciplines have been proven over centuries to be effective ways to improve our relationship with God and with his creation.  Here are a few ideas:

• Choose Lenten practices that help you live more simply.  Simple should also mean less stressful, so if a practice seems to produce more stress, that’s a signal that it either isn’t a good choice or expectations are unreasonable.  For example, I might decide to begin each day in Lent by reading a chapter in a book on spirituality, but then discover that my stress about time for meeting other responsibilities has increased.  That tells me that reading a chapter at the start of each day is not the right choice for me:  it may take too much time, or my mornings may need to be allocated to other tasks.  I should look for another type of reading material, or try reading at another time during my daily routine, or choose another form of practice, such as a short emailed meditation.  (see suggested resources below)
• Structure your Lenten practice to incorporate contributing to the well-being of others.  For example, I might redirect the money that I would usually spend on a treat for myself (a daily specialty coffee drink?  weekly movie night?  a new book or magazine purchase?) toward a charitable fund or organization that will use it to meet needs of less fortunate people.  Another example:  if I commit to spending a set period of time in prayer every day during Lent, I can make that practice benefit others by devoting that prayer time to interceding on behalf of people who need God’s healing, strength, peace, discernment, or other comforts of his presence.

These are only a couple of ideas.  There are many more ways to combine sacred practice with simplicity.  Please share your suggestions – and, if you would, how they worked for you – in the comments.

A final word:  The essential component of any approach to the observance of a holy Lenten is authenticity.  Going through the motions for the sake of outward appearances will not benefit you spiritually.  Jesus talked about the Pharisees who loved to make public displays as they prayed aloud in the synagogue and on street corners, and who adopted facial expressions of deprivation to advertise when they were fasting.  Their reward, said Jesus, would be limited to the recognition or respect they gained from others who were fooled.  But they couldn’t fool God, who knew what was in their hearts, and we can’t fool him either.

Further blog posts during this Lenten season will focus on some of the spiritual practices that have proven helpful to Christians through the ages, and on the gifts of a holy Lent. 

Resources for Online Lenten Meditations

Breaking the Bread – from Paraclete Press; delivered daily

Go to https://paracletepress.com.  Click on link under “Stay in Touch” and provide email address in box.

Episcopal Relief and Development – delivered weekly

Go to https://episcopalrelief.org. Click on Church in Action, then Church Campaigns, then Lent.  Click on purple button “Subscribe to Lenten Meditations Daily Emails.”  Provide information requested.

Our Daily Bread –  delivered daily

Go to https://odb.org.  Click on Email.  Fill in required information.  (Can be delivered via Email or Mobile app.)

Verse and Voice – from Sojourners; delivered daily

                Go to https://sojo.net.  Fill in required information under Subscribe.

A prayer card on the bulletin board in my office reads:

O Lord, you have given me so much. 

Please give me one thing more — a grateful heart.

Owing to my long-standing fascination with word origins and derivations, I wondered whether gratitude and grace were related.  It turns out they are:  both are derived from the Latin word gratūs, meaning pleasing.  That word made me think of a Scripture verse I learned long ago:

And whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments,  and do those things that are pleasing in his sight.                             1 John 3:22 (KJV)

This verse speaks of us doing things that we know will please God.  What he gives us, as reflected in the derivation of the words “grateful,” “gratitude,” and “grace” refers to things that are pleasing to us.  When  we seek to please God and he, despite his ultimate sovereignty and power, delights in pleasing us, the circle is complete.  Could that be what Eden was like before the fall?  Perhaps it’s similar to what heaven is like?

I started thinking about gratitude and grace a few weeks ago when I received a wonderful and entirely unexpected gift.  About two years ago I registered with one of the commercial DNA analysis companies.  They compare members’ DNA with that of known genetic groups to generate a profile describing each person’s genetic inheritance.  It’s also possible to compare an individual member’s DNA with that of other members in the database, to identify those that are genetically related.  I wanted to know about my genetic background because I was adopted at birth, and had only basic identifying information from my adoption record.  Perhaps – ideally – there would be others in the database whose DNA matched.  For many months only distant potential relatives showed up in the online match files, until I received an email from a man whose DNA matched mine at the 25% level, indicating that we are half-siblings.  Since then we’ve been in touch frequently by email and have spoken on the phone.  We’ve now embarked on a joint search for further information about our shared parent, and have plans to meet in person.  Gratitude is the most fitting word I know to describe the gift of knowing someone who is related to me.  I am so grateful for the former stranger I now know as family, as well as the technology that gives us the opportunity to connect with each other.  A remarkable development. 

At this point in human history our world seems tragically short of gratitude.  It’s a natural human tendency, exaggerated by some personality traits, to look first for what’s missing rather than what’s pleasing in a situation.  At least in western culture, possessing a “healthy skepticism” is considered wise.  We believe we should always be on our guard because “if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.”  Our first impulse is not to be thankful, but to be wary.  That’s a common outlook on life and not new, but these days such a perspective has been amplified.  Fear is the common denominator, a strong and pervasive undercurrent in our present discourse.

What if we intentionally cultivated the habit of looking first for what there is to be thankful for, before looking for fault or risk?  It may actually be fairly simple to change that perspective.  Take, for example, a physician with whom I once worked closely.  He came from Iran, and after many years in the U.S. his English was excellent, but he still had a few verbal expressions that readily identified him as a non-native English speaker.  One such comment was “Thanks God.” This was his response to any piece of favorable news that he received.  I couldn’t be sure whether he meant, “Thanks be to God” or maybe “Thank God,” as English speakers often say to express relief or satisfaction.  Still another possibility could be a personal mini-prayer:  “Thanks, God!”  It was an efficient, multi-purpose phrase, useful in a broad variety of situations.  In a way it really doesn’t matter which of the three meanings he intended, or even if there were other possibilities.  Any one of them expresses gratitude.  If we could prioritize thoughts of thankfulness over our typical skepticism, the rest of our thinking would fall into proper alignment.  God, whose grace is sufficient for every circumstance and whose power is more than sufficient to meet every need, is in charge.  The outcome is in God’s hands, not ours, no matter how diligently we search for lurking threat.

A final thought about the words “gratitude” and “grateful: ”  both are related to “grace,” and grace comes from God.  It’s a gift – unearned, unmerited, undeserved.  We can’t be grateful without God.  The prayer on my bulletin board asks for a grateful heart, that is, a heart transformed by God’s grace.  It’s the process that gradually breaks down our defensive posture and removes our need to be guarded and wary, as the heart softens.   We don’t make ourselves grateful:  God’s grace makes us grateful.  We need to be grateful for gratitude, as well as for every other good gift from the Creator.  How many times today have you said, “Thanks, God!”?

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. (John 3:16)

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:13)

For some reason, the concept of Jesus’s death as a sacrifice is difficult for us to grasp. It seems archaic at best, barbaric at worst – but the idea of sacrifice really isn’t as foreign to our own experience as we sometimes think. All of us can probably think of many 21st century examples of sacrifice. For example, parents make financial sacrifices for their children so they can have better educational opportunities, or develop musical or athletic talents. Military families make many sacrifices in the service of their country – the separation of husbands and wives, parents and children; the loss of limbs and physical functions and at times psychological well-being; and sadly, in some instances, the loss of life. Only a month ago during yet another tragic school shooting, a beloved coach sacrificed his life to save the lives of students by shielding them from fire with his body. While these sacrifices vary widely in terms of their personal cost, they are all contemporary examples of people putting the needs and interests of others ahead of their own. Why, then, is the idea of personal sacrifice so disquieting when we apply it to Jesus?

Perhaps the answer lies in the incomparably greater sacrifice that Jesus made. We believe that Jesus’s death by crucifixion was the ultimate sacrifice for sin that releases all who believe in him from the power of evil and death. There are several ideas in this doctrine that might be uncomfortable to think about and also difficult to grasp. One is the sacrifice of a willing death. Jesus knew that according to God’s plan he had to die, and he chose to go through that death. He wasn’t coerced or compelled. He could have gotten out of it – he was the son of Almighty God and fully divine, after all – but he didn’t choose that course because his death was the only sacrifice that could satisfy the penalty for the sinfulness of the human race.

Of course the world in which Jesus lived was much more familiar with sacrifices to atone for sin, not only in the Jewish temple, but also among pagan religions. Sacrifices of livestock and other animals were common, and among some groups human sacrifice was also practiced. We consider the sacrifice of a human being to be barbaric, and the idea that the God of love would require the sacrifice of his own son is virtually unthinkable. But it’s precisely because of God’s love, expressed in human terms by his son, that Jesus’s death was sacrificial. The IVP New Testament commentary explains:

[Jesus’s] death is at the heart of the Son’s revelation of the Father, for God is love and love is the laying down of one’s life (cf. 1 John 4:8; John 3:16). So in the cross the heart of God is revealed most clearly. Selflessness and humble self-sacrifice are seen to be divine attributes. Throughout his life Jesus has done the Father’s will, and such selflessness is a key component in the eternal life he offers. God’s own life is a life of love that denies self for the sake of the beloved, and therefore such love is the very nature of life itself, real life. (IVP New Testament Commentary, downloaded from biblegateway.com)

Love, selflessness, and sacrifice are all bound together. Love motivates self-denial for the sake of the beloved. Thus Jesus’s sacrifice was not simply a mechanical killing to settle a score; it was the logical conclusion and fulfillment of divine love.

No doubt another troublesome aspect of Jesus’s sacrifice for humankind is the manner in which he died. The cross was an instrument of terror and torture, and not just a method of execution. The Romans made a big point of publicly displaying crucifixions as a deterrent to insurrection, so there was public humiliation in addition to physical suffering. Those executed on the cross were first flogged, and then went through hours and sometimes days of inescapable exposure to the sun and agonizing thirst as they hung from the cross. Breathing was difficult because of their body position. Pain was excruciating. It was one of the most inhumane ways to die imaginable. It’s generally pretty hard to find the love as we view at an artist’s rendering of the crucifixion.

But love is there, radiating from the cross, sustaining the savior through the ordeal, and pointing toward the triumph of resurrection. The story does not stop abruptly on Good Friday, because the crucifixion was not the end. Love overcomes all, even death.

Lent is the liturgical season of preparation for Easter, similar in nature to Advent which is the time of spiritual preparation for Christmas. In the early days of the Church, individuals who planned to be baptized at the Easter Vigil service spent the 40 days of Lent in prayer, fasting, and self-denial. Their preparation to join the family of the faithful followed the pattern set by Jesus himself during his 40-day fast in the desert. As Mark’s gospel records it, this time came immediately following Jesus’s baptism – literally the first thing he did as he began his ministry. The gospels also record Satan’s attempts to sabotage the fast, trying to take advantage of a hungry stomach and a mind playing tricks in the desert heat. Satan didn‘t appreciate that fasting was an experience of spiritual nourishment and refreshment for the Savior as he prepared to undertake his mission. We too can find nourishment and refreshment in our Lenten observance, if we approach the season as a time for listening for what God wants us to hear from him.

The last Sunday before Lent is observed as Transfiguration Sunday. That Sunday’s Gospel story of Jesus on the mountain, appearing before Peter, James and John in dazzling white clothing, and talking with Moses and Elijah, culminates in the spoken message from God: “Listen to my Son.” That’s all. Listen. No mention of working miracles or healing the sick or preaching the gospel to the ends of the earth. Listening is what God expects. We may think that sounds too simple, but it really isn’t because “just” listening isn’t as easy as it sounds.

Most of us have experienced the frustration of someone misinterpreting something we’ve said, or failing to acknowledge it. What do we say to that person? “You weren’t listening to me!” Not being listened to is insulting and emotionally hurtful, and has the potential to damage close relationships. The person who wasn’t listening may have heard the words that were said, but he may still not have an accurate impression of the intended meaning. That’s because the process of listening depends not only on our auditory function, but also on the cognitive and emotional components that interpret meaning and intent. All of those elements are also involved in listening for what our Lord has to tell us, plus one more crucial component: the spirit. The Bible often refers to it as “heart.” Many well-known thinkers have written about what the heart perceives that the mind and senses cannot; for example:

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched – they must be felt with the heart. – Helen Keller

Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye. – H. Jackson Brown, Jr. (author of Life’s Little Instruction Books)

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. – Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing. — Blaise Pascal

The first step, then, is listening for God is to open our hearts. The Psalmist in Psalm 51 asks that God transform the sin-stained heart that has led him astray into a new, clean heart. We need to join the Psalmist in his humble request, because we cannot cleanse our hearts on our own. Thus we follow our Lord to the desert – figuratively, of course: taking six weeks out of our lives to become temporary hermits it isn’t practical for most of us! However, each of us can commit to giving special attention to a discipline like prayer, spiritual reading or meditation during the 40 days of Lent.

Spending even a short amount of time in quiet on a regular basis, listening for what God is communicating to us, will begin to open our hearts. We may not receive clear messages right away. Think about the many years of training and practice that counselors and pastoral caregivers undergo, and still they don’t hear everything perfectly every time. Listening, like other skills, improves with repetition. One key is to be open to receiving a message in any one of several forms, because God speaks to different people in different ways. Some people report ideas that perhaps quietly or perhaps more dramatically enter their minds, apparently from out of the blue. Others say that other people in their lives have transmitted messages, and still others speak of an unmistakable “sense” or awareness that permeates their consciousness. No matter what form God chooses to communicate with you, it’s well worth the time and effort to practice regular listening, and the season of Lent is an ideal time to begin.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

1. Most of the time, is your heart closed or open to receiving messages from God? How do you know?

2. What steps can you take to set aside a time and space conducive to opening your heart to God’s communication?

 

PRAYER

God, please cleanse my heart from all of the worldly attachments that distract from and shut out what you’re saying to my spirit. Open my heart to you and to your will. Amen.