The season of Lent has begun, and for many, it has the liturgical (fancy church word for the prayers and order of worship) feeling of the scene in Monty Python’s Holy Grail when God speaks to Arthur. As God speaks, Arthur and his knights cover their faces. God stops speaking and asks what they are doing. “Averting our eyes, O Lord!” they say. God responds with, “Well, knock it off. Every time I try to speak to someone they say ‘O forgive me!’ and ‘I’m not worthy!’ Just knock it off!” Anyway, God gives Arthur a quest to find the Holy Grail as a symbol of hope during the Dark Ages, and hilarity ensues.
I say all of that to acknowledge that Lent is historically a time where we acknowledge our sinfulness before God in hopes of getting greater clarity and vision for our lives. Going way back, it was a time when disciplinary actions took place for those that stepped way out of line and needed to be brought back into the fold. It was also a time of preparation for those seeking to become members of the church (catechumenates).
Most people, particularly in our heavily Roman Catholic populated area, just think about it as a time to eat fish on Fridays. As I said on Ash Wednesday, this falls in the category of what Roman Catholics call “obligations.” These are the things that you must do if you are of the Roman Catholic tradition. The Protestant Reformation, on the other hand, asks the question, “Why?” Maybe more accurately, we have always asked, “What does that have to do with proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ and living in response to God’s grace?”
Most of us probably did not grow up with a specific tradition based on the season of Lent, or fasting, or giving things up. That’s because every day is seen as a response to God’s grace. I’m reminded of a restaurant I once managed. One of my employees was Muslim, and he asked me if he could eat after sundown as he was fasting for Ramadan. I, of course, said yes. Another employee who was Jewish overheard and said, “We have it better because we just fast for one 24 hour period.” I said, “Yeah, well I’m Presbyterian and we say: Good bread, good meat, good God let’s eat, and somebody pass me the wine!”
That was, perhaps, a little disrespectful, but the point of it all is that every moment of every day is lived in response to the grace and mercy of God. We live more like the other employee that I always remember from that restaurant. He was a sold-out Christian, and even though there were other believers there he was the one that talked about it. He was actually one of the worst for making mistakes on his checks. I had to correct things for him on the register routinely, and he would just say, “You’re going to have to find a new way to love me today.”
I think that’s what Lent is about – coming before God and realizing that we are yet loved in the midst of flaws and drama – or at least it can be. Some will give things up. Some will take things on. Our theme in worship throughout these 40 days will be the idea of cultivating and letting go. This theme was developed by a group of Pastors and Artists reflecting on the lectionary texts together. Each week we’ll have some artwork and a statement from the artist to reflect on.
This week’s called “Resist.” Admittedly, my first reaction to the image was that it does not look like my expectation of Jesus. You might even think that gender and ethnicity are unclear. I think he looks slightly Native American. All of us will have thoughts and feelings that we bring into our understanding of the image – just as we do with scripture – but let’s hear from the artist, Leslie Gwynn Garrity.
“While in the wilderness, what does Jesus resist? The temptation to provide only for himself instead of living into God’s abundant manna. The temptation to obtain unlimited power and control. The temptation to coerce faith or prove God’s power. The temptation to rule above the earth instead of from within it. In his own 40-day Lent, Jesus is reformed and readied for his ministry, one defined by humility, justice, and compassion. I imagine he had to let go of ego and self-serving desires in order to cultivate a leadership ethic that upends structures of power and oppression. He had to let go of personal profit in order to cultivate inner strength. In this image, a flash of red, symbolizing evil and temptation, snakes around Jesus’ head, as if to suffocate him. But a halo of gold, emanating from his steadfast expression, protects him from evil’s destruction.”
Now, let’s be clear, this passage is about so much more than asking us to fast or give up binge watching. This passage is about Jesus and his struggle with the cosmic reality of sin and evil. It is about his specific temptation. It is about the movement of the Holy Spirit that sent him out into the wilderness, and it is about his opportunity to demonstrate his identity – his self-concept as God’s son – in the face of the temptation to deny it.
That said, what about us? What does it mean to us in light of the whole of scripture and the promise of providence and grace and mercy? It means that we, too, are called to face the challenge of identity. In our reading from Deuteronomy, the very act of offering carries with it a remembrance of who we are based on what God has done. Not only that, but it also reminds us that everything is a result of what God has given us. We don’t set aside something that is ours to give to God. We return a portion of what we’ve been given.
We don’t set aside an hour on Sunday to believe in God, either. Our belief is instead who we are. Our belief, according to Paul’s letter to the church in Rome is not limited to a confessional statement. Our belief flows through all that we do. In fact, our salvation is not limited to what we decide to believe. Instead, it is our belief and the actions that follow that show what we are a part of, what we’ve been given, and what we are responding to.
Our belief is the gut check that inspires us to bring our errors and trials and everything that separates us from God and one another to God so that we can thank God for finding a new way to love us. So, as a person, you may find that the season of Lent can help you with that. Having a time to practice some new way of being kind in the world, or letting go of something as a way to make space for something else, may help with that.
As a congregation, we’ve been asked to study the book Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as A Christian Tradition. The first chapter confronts us with the knowledge that deep in the roots of our faith, in fact maybe even into the trunk, Christians have viewed hospitality as caring for the vulnerable. That care came through the church, but also including our homes. While I can criticize the church over the disappearance of this type of care, I share the concern you may have over opening my home. Still, there is a level of vulnerability that the gospel calls us to that is somehow subversive and inviting at the same time.
The questions that we are left within the book are some of the same that we will wrestle with throughout these 40 days. What is it that God is calling me to cultivate? How do I make space for the new thing that God is doing in and through me, through us, through the gospel writ large in our lives? What do I have to let go of in order to participate more fully in what God is doing here and now?
These are Kingdom of God questions, and I look forward to exploring them with you during these 40 days. For now, I hope that you will find a new way to love yourself, your neighbor, and your God. Be held in that love, even as you resist the forces of evil in the world. Know that we are in this together.
As Christians in the Reformed tradition, you don’t have to give anything up, but you do have to live as a person who embodies the faith in words and deeds. Therefore, use this time well. Cultivate space in your life for the gospel. Let go of all that gets in the way, and be amazed at what God has done, is doing, and will do – even through you, even through me – and to God be the glory, now and always. Amen!
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