Someone asked me, do we need Lent? A good question.
There was a time, of course, when all Christians thought they
didn’t need Lent. After all, they had been baptized; they were filled with
the Holy Spirit and lived life quite differently from the pagans. The first
real Lenten people were not Christians, but those preparing to become
Christians. But all of that changed when the old-timers in the Christian
community noticed something remarkable at the Easter baptism. They
were struck by the joy and the radiant faces of those just baptized. They
realized that they had become too ho-hum in their faith and decided to
do something about it. And so, the next year, some Christians began to
join the catechumens in their preparation for baptism at Easter. They did
this so that they could feel once again the joy of rebirth at Easter. And
that’s how Lent gradually came to the church, out of need.
The liturgy for this First Sunday of Lent focuses on a need that
Jesus had before he began to save the world. Even though he had just been baptized and was “full of the Holy Spirit,” he felt a need to go into
the desert. In the desert Jesus realized who he was and what he was
called to do. But in the desert, Jesus learned that God cannot be bought
and that life is more than bread or fleeting moments of magic and glory.
One Ash Wednesday, a few years ago, while I was wondering how
to face another Lent, I received a phone call from a former player I
coached. He was now a struggling graduate student. The young man was
crying out for help. When I got to his apartment, I found a tortured
person, filled with self-doubt and booze. Eventually, I got him to go to
his first AA meeting. But even though he was an alcoholic, he told me
that he couldn’t go back to another AA meeting because, “I’m not like
those people.” I’ve never forgotten that line, “I’m not like those people.”
It taught me that the first temptation to avoid is to convince yourself that
somehow you are different, that you don’t share the pain of life, that you
don’t need to go into the desert.
The early Christians, even though they were baptized and
convinced of their importance, learned from the desert experience of Lent that they too were in need of renewal and of finding out who they were and who God was calling them to be. Jesus, just baptized by John
and “full of the Holy Spirit,” went into the desert and came out with a
gospel and a firm faith in his Father that he would take to Cavalry.
My young friend was wrong. We are like those people who share a
common struggle and a common pain. We are all driven by some
doubts. We sometimes make choices about the most important events of
our lives without reflection, without faith, without prayer, without God.
We cannot force Lent upon ourselves. Each of us must find a need for it,
a need to go into the desert and face both our gifts and our limits, a need
to face ourselves, our demons, our God. For those who ask the question,
do we need Lent? Trust me – we do! Let’s go into the desert together
and see what we find.
Archive for the ‘Lent’ Category
Do We Need Lent? 2-21-2021
Sunday, February 21st, 2021The Raising of LazarusThe Raising of Lazarus 3-29-2020
Sunday, March 29th, 2020Let’s allow our imaginations to create a Hollywood version of the raising
of Lazarus.
Picture it: Lazarus comes out of his tomb-bound up, mummy-
like, wrapped tightly in burial garments.
See those tight wrappings around his body? Even as he comes
forth to Jesus, they restrict his sight, speech and freedom of
movement.
Listen carefully to the words of Jesus. “Untie him and let him
go free.”
I believe Lazarus coming out of the tomb represents every person!
What is it in our lives that binds us up? At times ties us up,
immobilizes us, limits our perception, and gets in the way of us
reaching out to others and to God ? Is it an attitude or possibly our own fears that restrict us? Maybe it
is a prejudice toward a particular group of people? Perhaps it is
something that worries us? Something we did in the past that we
are ashamed of? Could it be financial problems or a medical
concern? Is it a broken relationship in our family, a habit of lying,
trying to cover our tracks? Are we being squeezed to death by
bitterness, resentment, anger, grief, guilt or a poor self image?
Remember these words. “Untie him and her and let them go
free.”
As we reflect on what has us all wrapped up. What is preventing us from
moving freely and experiencing real life?
I think it is important to also ask ourselves: Are there situations or
relationships going on right now, where we are binding or tying up
other people? How would we do this? Does our sour, negative attitudes and biting criticism destroy the
spirit of those around us? Are we quick to see the bad, and blind to
the good and positive in the people close to us?
How about back stabbing rumors, parking lot gossip and unfair
stereotypes?
“Untie him and her and let them go free.”
During this Lent as we take some time to look inward, as we think about
what binds us and how to remove the tight wrappings. I think our Gospel
reminds us of 3 significant realities that need to be clearly stated.
As Martha mentioned, regarding her brother, it is going to be a
smelly procedure. Taking off these bindings will be a slow and
painful process. It will be very messy. No real conversion happens
without pain. We may be tempted to short circuit the process. We
may want to fantasize that everything will be fine in the morning.
But it will not go away by itself! Jesus tells others to help unbind Lazarus. We will need help also.
A good friend to listen and to challenge. A teacher, a minister, a
trained counselor and a support group. We are fooling ourselves if
we think we can do it alone!
The final point may be the most important. Right in the middle of
this smelly, messy process of unbinding that we are challenged to
enter into, we too, just like Lazarus, have the presence and
reassurance of Jesus. “I am with you!” “You are not alone, even
when it is the darkest.” “Don’t give up!” “Keep trying!”
“Untie him and her and let them go free.”
Lightning Strikes 3-22-2020
Sunday, March 22nd, 2020Years ago, a boy was collecting berries in the woods near his
Southern home. He was concentrating on filling his bucket – and mouth
–with the delicious fruit and not paying attention to how deep he was
going into the forest. The boy didn’t notice the dark clouds forming on
the horizon. Then he heard crashes of thunder. Suddenly he realized that
he was lost. Darkness enveloped the woods. The terrified youngster
started to run with no sense of where he was going.
Then he remembered what his parents had taught him: When you’re
lost, stop and be still, look around, and listen. So the boy stopped running
and stood still. And he observed the lightning strikes illuminating the
forest landscape. With each lightning flash he was able to see a bit farther
ahead and walk a little closer to his destination until he found his way
home, guided by the storm that had, at first, frightened him.
“Seeing” and “light” are key images of today’s Gospel for this
Sunday in mid-Lent. Jesus cures a man born blind – but the greater
miracle is opening the eyes of those around him to “see” the presence of
God in their midst. Terrified of the storm, the little boy remembers his parents’ wise advice: Stop and look. See the light and make your way
towards it. The Christ of Lent is that light that illuminates those times
and places in which we can realize the love of God in our midst. Like the
Jewish leaders and the temple officials, we sometimes become so
obsessed trying to find God where God is not that we fail to see God
where God actually is. We desperately want to know where God is when
tragedy befalls us; we live our lives taking comfort in the erroneous
notion that God is found only at certain times, in the rituals and pious
practices our religion specifies. The reality is that God is most
profoundly present in the simple, ordinary doings of life, in the kindness
and love of others, in life itself and the gifts of the earth to sustain that
life. May God grant us the vision that the blind man receives in today’s
Gospel: to see the love of God present in all things.
