EASTER / 2022
Alleluia – Chris is risen!
Easter is the second major feast day in the Christian calendar. It’s also an entire season as the liturgical calendar gives Easter 50 days. Just like Christmas, a single day is not sufficient to explore the wonder, depth and far reaching implications of Easter morning.
There are many verses in the gospels that pertain to the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. One of my favorites is found in John 20:7 (ESV) “…and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus' head, was not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself.”
On a Sunday morning, two thousand years ago, Jesus woke up from his death sleep. His eyes opened and then he slowly and calmly untwisted the funeral robes he was wrapped in. Next, he purposely folded the cloth covering his face and place it neatly on the ground. In this simple and silent gesture, Jesus speaks loudly about God’s redemptive work – death is defeated once and for all. No fireworks, no bullhorns, no flashy billboards – just Jesus calmly and quietly folding up death and putting it away.
In that moment, the world shifted on its axis and nothing has ever been the same since.
Easter is not only the defeat of death, but Easter is God’s stamp of approval on the Jesus way – the path of peace and nonviolence. Rather than redemptive violence (getting rid of all the bad people by means of separation and extermination), God saves the world through redemptive suffering – taking the violence upon himself. This is why the first Christians were called followers of “the way.” This “way” is the way of love. The church is called to follow Jesus in his way of love and join God in his work of healing and reconciliation through redemptive suffering – praying for and loving enemies rather than excluding them and exterminating them. The radical gospel movement is towards inclusion, rather than exclusion. Towards reconciliation rather than retribution.
This is why during the Easter season, the lectionary shifts and replaces the Old Testament with the book of Acts. Quickly after the resurrection the lectionary wants to draw attention to the good news quickly working its way from the garden tomb into the cities, streets and homes. The Spirit empowers the early church to both speak and live the message: death has been defeated, fear has been unmasked and “the Jesus way” is the only way to bring healing to our world and hearts.
Easter is a feast day – so don’t forget to celebrate. But it’s also an entire season - 50 days to pray, read, talk, eat, laugh, reflect and dive deep into the far reaching implications of Easter morning. Take a moment to reflect on God’s quiet and calm defeat of death – when Jesus took the burial cloth covering his face, folded it up and placed it neatly off to the side.
Alleluia!
Easter is the second major feast day in the Christian calendar. It’s also an entire season as the liturgical calendar gives Easter 50 days. Just like Christmas, a single day is not sufficient to explore the wonder, depth and far reaching implications of Easter morning.
There are many verses in the gospels that pertain to the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. One of my favorites is found in John 20:7 (ESV) “…and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus' head, was not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself.”
On a Sunday morning, two thousand years ago, Jesus woke up from his death sleep. His eyes opened and then he slowly and calmly untwisted the funeral robes he was wrapped in. Next, he purposely folded the cloth covering his face and place it neatly on the ground. In this simple and silent gesture, Jesus speaks loudly about God’s redemptive work – death is defeated once and for all. No fireworks, no bullhorns, no flashy billboards – just Jesus calmly and quietly folding up death and putting it away.
In that moment, the world shifted on its axis and nothing has ever been the same since.
Easter is not only the defeat of death, but Easter is God’s stamp of approval on the Jesus way – the path of peace and nonviolence. Rather than redemptive violence (getting rid of all the bad people by means of separation and extermination), God saves the world through redemptive suffering – taking the violence upon himself. This is why the first Christians were called followers of “the way.” This “way” is the way of love. The church is called to follow Jesus in his way of love and join God in his work of healing and reconciliation through redemptive suffering – praying for and loving enemies rather than excluding them and exterminating them. The radical gospel movement is towards inclusion, rather than exclusion. Towards reconciliation rather than retribution.
This is why during the Easter season, the lectionary shifts and replaces the Old Testament with the book of Acts. Quickly after the resurrection the lectionary wants to draw attention to the good news quickly working its way from the garden tomb into the cities, streets and homes. The Spirit empowers the early church to both speak and live the message: death has been defeated, fear has been unmasked and “the Jesus way” is the only way to bring healing to our world and hearts.
Easter is a feast day – so don’t forget to celebrate. But it’s also an entire season - 50 days to pray, read, talk, eat, laugh, reflect and dive deep into the far reaching implications of Easter morning. Take a moment to reflect on God’s quiet and calm defeat of death – when Jesus took the burial cloth covering his face, folded it up and placed it neatly off to the side.
Alleluia!
LENT / 2022
The journey of Lent is an exercise in trust. The main lesson of Lent is simple, but hard –
If you want to live, then you have to die.
If there is one universal experience that I’ve witnessed in my years as a Care Pastor, it is this: Dying is hard. There is something instinctual inside of us – a powerful survival mechanism. We resist death. We hold on to life. We don’t want to let go. Death is about letting go. In order to help us let go, we get a thousand “practice attempts” throughout our lives. We get a myriad of opportunities to practicing dying before we die so that when we stand before capital “D” death, we’ll know how to let go with confidence.
Why do I say with confidence?
When we practice letting go (dying) many times every day, we also experience mini-resurrections. We see that even we when “die” new life springs up. The more we practice the pattern of dying and life springing up (rising) the more confident we’ll be that right behind capital “D” death is capital “L” life. We’ll not only believe – but know deep in our bones what Jesus said about seeds in John 12:24 is really true: “Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
The Lenten journey and the intensity of Holy Week is a 40-day lesson with one key takeaway – don’t be afraid to let go – God will be there to catch you.
If you want to live, then you have to die.
If there is one universal experience that I’ve witnessed in my years as a Care Pastor, it is this: Dying is hard. There is something instinctual inside of us – a powerful survival mechanism. We resist death. We hold on to life. We don’t want to let go. Death is about letting go. In order to help us let go, we get a thousand “practice attempts” throughout our lives. We get a myriad of opportunities to practicing dying before we die so that when we stand before capital “D” death, we’ll know how to let go with confidence.
Why do I say with confidence?
When we practice letting go (dying) many times every day, we also experience mini-resurrections. We see that even we when “die” new life springs up. The more we practice the pattern of dying and life springing up (rising) the more confident we’ll be that right behind capital “D” death is capital “L” life. We’ll not only believe – but know deep in our bones what Jesus said about seeds in John 12:24 is really true: “Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
The Lenten journey and the intensity of Holy Week is a 40-day lesson with one key takeaway – don’t be afraid to let go – God will be there to catch you.
ASH WEDNESDAY / 2022
On March 2, 2022, many churches around the world will mark the beginning of Lent with an Ash Wednesday Service. Normally during this unique service, there is a time when folks file forward to receive the imposition of ashes. The sign of the cross is made on the forehead while these words are spoken: To ash you were made and to ash you will return – ashes to ashes, dust to dust. These words are a summary of the words from Genesis 3:19:
“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.”
And so, the season of Lent start with a sobering tone.
These are hard words to swallow. We live much of our lives trying to deny them or prove them wrong. We put so much energy into trying to overcome our “dust-ness” – through work, academic success, the accumulation of things, or by having children, we attempt to do something that will last – something that will endure. We don’t want to believe the hard truth that we are finite beings who are made of dust and will return to dust.
The reality of our “dust-ness” can easily lead to despair. Knowing that everything we do and say and accomplish will one day be forgotten can make us want shrug their shoulders at life and whisper to ourselves with a hint of depression – “what’s the point of doing anything then…”
Rather than denial, depression or despair, the Scriptures point us in another direction. In fact, the secret to living a meaningful, yet “dust filled” life is found in the ash-marking that happens on Ash Wednesday – the ashes spread on the forehead are not just an undefined smudge – but an intersection of vertical and horizontal lines – a powerful symbol we recognize as – the cross.
That is the secret. Christ became dust and died for us. We are not just dust…
We are beloved dust.
More than that, Jesus rose from the dust as a resurrected human who had a new body that will never return to dust again. God promises that one day, God will raise our dusty bones from the grave and give us new, incorruptible bodies that will last forever. In and through Jesus, Genesis 3:19 is gets an addendum. Just listen to what Paul tells the Corinthian church –
Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. (1 Corinthians 15:51-52)
Friends, Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, but Lent does not last forever… it gives way to a quiet Sunday morning, when Jesus overcomes death once and for all.
“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.”
And so, the season of Lent start with a sobering tone.
These are hard words to swallow. We live much of our lives trying to deny them or prove them wrong. We put so much energy into trying to overcome our “dust-ness” – through work, academic success, the accumulation of things, or by having children, we attempt to do something that will last – something that will endure. We don’t want to believe the hard truth that we are finite beings who are made of dust and will return to dust.
The reality of our “dust-ness” can easily lead to despair. Knowing that everything we do and say and accomplish will one day be forgotten can make us want shrug their shoulders at life and whisper to ourselves with a hint of depression – “what’s the point of doing anything then…”
Rather than denial, depression or despair, the Scriptures point us in another direction. In fact, the secret to living a meaningful, yet “dust filled” life is found in the ash-marking that happens on Ash Wednesday – the ashes spread on the forehead are not just an undefined smudge – but an intersection of vertical and horizontal lines – a powerful symbol we recognize as – the cross.
That is the secret. Christ became dust and died for us. We are not just dust…
We are beloved dust.
More than that, Jesus rose from the dust as a resurrected human who had a new body that will never return to dust again. God promises that one day, God will raise our dusty bones from the grave and give us new, incorruptible bodies that will last forever. In and through Jesus, Genesis 3:19 is gets an addendum. Just listen to what Paul tells the Corinthian church –
Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. (1 Corinthians 15:51-52)
Friends, Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, but Lent does not last forever… it gives way to a quiet Sunday morning, when Jesus overcomes death once and for all.
TRANSFIGURATION / 2022
When I was a kid, someone gave me an important instruction that came with a dire warning: Don’t stare at the sun or you will go blind. This warning was given with a story about someone on a playground that ignored the warning, stared at the sun and is now suffering lifelong permanent blindness.
Of course, as a kid, you have to test this by looking at the sun for maybe 2 seconds… which seems ok until you close your eyes and see strange spots floating around on the back of your eyelids. For my little heart and mind – that was enough to prove that playground warning to be true – staring at the sun will cause permanent blindness!
So, imagine the scene in Matthew 17: 1-2:
After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.2 There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light.
This event is known as the Transfiguration of Jesus and is celebrated liturgically on the last Sunday in Epiphany – Transfiguration Sunday. Every year, we get the opportunity to walk up the mountain with the disciples and ponder this amazing event while asking the question – “what does this mean?”
Mountain tops are a place of revelation. We travel with the disciples and catch a glimpse of who Jesus truly is – and in doing so, we catch a glimpse of who we are and who we are to become. The transformed Jesus (human, but shining like the sun (divine) is a glimpse of God’s end game for humanity – resurrected human beings who are fully human and fully divine. Here is another way to put it: What happened to Jesus on the mountain top was a “trailer” to a full length feature film (coming soon to a human near you!)
But notice what the text says in Matthew 17:9: “As they were coming down the mountain…” With Jesus, we come down from the mountain back into our cities and neighborhoods. As we continue to live our ordinary lives, we do so with an amazing hope – the story of God and humanity has a very, very good ending! So, on Transfiguration Sunday, go ahead and look at the Son – be blinded by his glorious light – and paradoxically discover that you can see more clearly than ever before.
Of course, as a kid, you have to test this by looking at the sun for maybe 2 seconds… which seems ok until you close your eyes and see strange spots floating around on the back of your eyelids. For my little heart and mind – that was enough to prove that playground warning to be true – staring at the sun will cause permanent blindness!
So, imagine the scene in Matthew 17: 1-2:
After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.2 There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light.
This event is known as the Transfiguration of Jesus and is celebrated liturgically on the last Sunday in Epiphany – Transfiguration Sunday. Every year, we get the opportunity to walk up the mountain with the disciples and ponder this amazing event while asking the question – “what does this mean?”
Mountain tops are a place of revelation. We travel with the disciples and catch a glimpse of who Jesus truly is – and in doing so, we catch a glimpse of who we are and who we are to become. The transformed Jesus (human, but shining like the sun (divine) is a glimpse of God’s end game for humanity – resurrected human beings who are fully human and fully divine. Here is another way to put it: What happened to Jesus on the mountain top was a “trailer” to a full length feature film (coming soon to a human near you!)
But notice what the text says in Matthew 17:9: “As they were coming down the mountain…” With Jesus, we come down from the mountain back into our cities and neighborhoods. As we continue to live our ordinary lives, we do so with an amazing hope – the story of God and humanity has a very, very good ending! So, on Transfiguration Sunday, go ahead and look at the Son – be blinded by his glorious light – and paradoxically discover that you can see more clearly than ever before.
EPIPHANY / 2022
I love dimmer switches. I was happy when the house we moved into this past summer already had dimmer switches installed in almost every room. Often, turning the light on “full bright” is a little too glaring, so I find a spot just below that adds a little more ambiance to the room – it’s easier on the eyes and creates a more relaxed vibe.
The season of Epiphany is like a dimmer switch. During this liturgical season, through various biblical stories, the light is slowing brightening and we begin to see more clearly that the vulnerable baby born in a manger is the glorified king of heaven and earth.
The season of Epiphany begins with the feast of Epiphany on January 6 and ends the day before Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Depending on where Easter falls (it’s a moving holiday) the season of Epiphany can be as short as 4 weeks and as long as 9 weeks. The word Epiphany means “to appear” or “to bring to light” (hence dimmer switch) – it’s a season of increasing light and ends with the lights on maximum: Transfiguration Sunday. On the mountain top, Jesus’ glory is revealed and we catch a glimpse of his divine nature – a vision that’s a little too bright for human eyes.
The beginning of Epiphany is framed by three key stories from the life of Jesus. The first is the visit of the Magi from the East. This story tells us that Jesus came for all people (not just the jews) and the good news stretches East and West, North and South – redemptive news for the whole world. The second framing story is the Baptism of Jesus. In this narrative, the dimmer switch gets turned up a few notches – we learn more about the true identity of Jesus - the beloved Son in whom the Father is well pleased. The third framing story is first miracle of Jesus when he changed water to wine at a wedding feast in Cana. The water basins that were used for ritual cleansing were changed into lavish amounts of wine. Wine symbolizes the intoxicating love, generosity and grace that Jesus came to initiate and demonstrate.
Epiphany is a rich, but unfamiliar and overlooked season. January is considered a cold and dark month – the merriment of the Christmas season is over, the new year has begun and we’re back at work or in school. Culturally, these weeks are marked by a return to routine.
But liturgically, Epiphany is a season of quiet hope with a watchful eye towards God’s promise to bring wholeness to the entire galaxy in the person of Jesus. It’s also a time of spreading this good news and so we look for little ways to spread hope to those around us. We pray for our friends, neighbors, relatives, children, family members and spouses who don’t know Jesus yet. We believe that“in him was life and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” – John 1:4 - 5
The season of Epiphany is like a dimmer switch. During this liturgical season, through various biblical stories, the light is slowing brightening and we begin to see more clearly that the vulnerable baby born in a manger is the glorified king of heaven and earth.
The season of Epiphany begins with the feast of Epiphany on January 6 and ends the day before Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Depending on where Easter falls (it’s a moving holiday) the season of Epiphany can be as short as 4 weeks and as long as 9 weeks. The word Epiphany means “to appear” or “to bring to light” (hence dimmer switch) – it’s a season of increasing light and ends with the lights on maximum: Transfiguration Sunday. On the mountain top, Jesus’ glory is revealed and we catch a glimpse of his divine nature – a vision that’s a little too bright for human eyes.
The beginning of Epiphany is framed by three key stories from the life of Jesus. The first is the visit of the Magi from the East. This story tells us that Jesus came for all people (not just the jews) and the good news stretches East and West, North and South – redemptive news for the whole world. The second framing story is the Baptism of Jesus. In this narrative, the dimmer switch gets turned up a few notches – we learn more about the true identity of Jesus - the beloved Son in whom the Father is well pleased. The third framing story is first miracle of Jesus when he changed water to wine at a wedding feast in Cana. The water basins that were used for ritual cleansing were changed into lavish amounts of wine. Wine symbolizes the intoxicating love, generosity and grace that Jesus came to initiate and demonstrate.
Epiphany is a rich, but unfamiliar and overlooked season. January is considered a cold and dark month – the merriment of the Christmas season is over, the new year has begun and we’re back at work or in school. Culturally, these weeks are marked by a return to routine.
But liturgically, Epiphany is a season of quiet hope with a watchful eye towards God’s promise to bring wholeness to the entire galaxy in the person of Jesus. It’s also a time of spreading this good news and so we look for little ways to spread hope to those around us. We pray for our friends, neighbors, relatives, children, family members and spouses who don’t know Jesus yet. We believe that“in him was life and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” – John 1:4 - 5
ORDINARY TIME / 2021
Once again, we have celebrated the gift of God’s life giving Spirit on Pentecost Sunday. Now we’ve moved into the second half of the liturgical year called Ordinary Time.
Ordinary time is the longest liturgical season. It starts with Trinity Sunday and ends with Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday before Advent. At the start, Trinity Sunday reminds us that we (and the church) live, move and have our being within the life of the Triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. At the end, Christ the King Sunday puts the spotlight firmly on Christ who is the centerpiece and avenue through which God is bringing about wholeness and healing to the entire created order. (see Colossians 1:15-20)
Ordinary time is ordinary in the sense that the days are numbered. The word ordinary stems from the Latin word “ordo” which means order and the Latin word “ordinalis” which refers to numbers in a series. Simply, Ordinary time is numbered time.
But Ordinary time is not ordinary, nor is it merely “numbered time.” Some have noticed that the liturgical calendar can be divided into two distinct but connected parts: The story of Jesus and the story of the Church. The story of Jesus starts in Advent and transitions at Pentecost, when the ascended Jesus sends the Spirit to empower the church to be his hands and feet in the world – his body. Pentecost kicks off the second part of the liturgical year. In fact, Ordinary time could be called Pentecost time.
As the church goes into the world as the body of Christ (by the power of the Spirit), it’s important that the church remembers that its work is really the work of Christ. More specifically, it’s Trinitarian work – Father, Son, and Spirit all working to heal and bring about wholeness to a fracture and broken creation because of the devastating effects of sin. Through faith (by the power of the Spirit), the church participates in this good work.
Ordinary time is all about the various ways we participate in and through our ordinary lives. If you want a quick way to know if you are participating in the Trinitarian energy – then hold on to this: Whenever we love and allow ourselves to be loved… we find ourselves swept up in the divine dance.
Ordinary time is the longest liturgical season. It starts with Trinity Sunday and ends with Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday before Advent. At the start, Trinity Sunday reminds us that we (and the church) live, move and have our being within the life of the Triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. At the end, Christ the King Sunday puts the spotlight firmly on Christ who is the centerpiece and avenue through which God is bringing about wholeness and healing to the entire created order. (see Colossians 1:15-20)
Ordinary time is ordinary in the sense that the days are numbered. The word ordinary stems from the Latin word “ordo” which means order and the Latin word “ordinalis” which refers to numbers in a series. Simply, Ordinary time is numbered time.
But Ordinary time is not ordinary, nor is it merely “numbered time.” Some have noticed that the liturgical calendar can be divided into two distinct but connected parts: The story of Jesus and the story of the Church. The story of Jesus starts in Advent and transitions at Pentecost, when the ascended Jesus sends the Spirit to empower the church to be his hands and feet in the world – his body. Pentecost kicks off the second part of the liturgical year. In fact, Ordinary time could be called Pentecost time.
As the church goes into the world as the body of Christ (by the power of the Spirit), it’s important that the church remembers that its work is really the work of Christ. More specifically, it’s Trinitarian work – Father, Son, and Spirit all working to heal and bring about wholeness to a fracture and broken creation because of the devastating effects of sin. Through faith (by the power of the Spirit), the church participates in this good work.
Ordinary time is all about the various ways we participate in and through our ordinary lives. If you want a quick way to know if you are participating in the Trinitarian energy – then hold on to this: Whenever we love and allow ourselves to be loved… we find ourselves swept up in the divine dance.
EASTER / 2021
As a way to live more deeply into the Easter story, I’ve been reading a book by John and Sarah Crossan called “Resurrecting Easter.” Part travel log and part theological investigation, the book chronicles the Crossan’s as they travel and visit multiple ancient Eastern churches and monasteries. In those places, they encounter historical images that reveal a completely different model for understanding Easter’s resurrection story. In the opening chapters, they make a rather startling observation. They state,
“The major events in Christ’s life and therefore the major feasts in the church’s liturgy – from the Annunciation to the Ascension – are described in the Gospel stories… but there is one exception to that overall sequence, one event in the life of Christ that is never described in any Gospel story. Furthermore, this is not some minor happening, but the most important and climactic one of them all… this is the moment of Christ’s Resurrection as it is actually happening.” (2)
Isn’t that odd? No one was there to witness the actual moment of Christ rising from the dead. The tomb was sealed. No cameras. No infrared sensors. No journalist ready to capture the moment in words. No TV crew ready to broadcast “LIVE – from the TOMB!”
This begs the question – why?
I’ve been thinking about this over the past few weeks. Here is my best thought: The spark of new life is always initially hidden from us. We have to trust that it is happening, even when we have no evidence. New life is an act of faith. Let me give you a few examples to highlight my point.
Every spring, old “dead” seeds sit in the ground waiting for the rain and the warm sun. Long before the green delicate stem pushes through the wet and dark ground, the dead seed casing has already broken open and given way to new life. Before green pushes through, you look at the ground in early spring and it looks like nothing is happening. New life has begun, but its hidden from us.
The same thing is true of human life. We only see signs of new life as the baby grows in darkness. Then, after 9 long months, we see life – fully formed as it exits the womb.
So, long before we see signs of new life, we have to trust that it is happening. This is perhaps why “the moment” of Jesus resurrection had no eyewitnesses...
New life happens in the dark.
“The major events in Christ’s life and therefore the major feasts in the church’s liturgy – from the Annunciation to the Ascension – are described in the Gospel stories… but there is one exception to that overall sequence, one event in the life of Christ that is never described in any Gospel story. Furthermore, this is not some minor happening, but the most important and climactic one of them all… this is the moment of Christ’s Resurrection as it is actually happening.” (2)
Isn’t that odd? No one was there to witness the actual moment of Christ rising from the dead. The tomb was sealed. No cameras. No infrared sensors. No journalist ready to capture the moment in words. No TV crew ready to broadcast “LIVE – from the TOMB!”
This begs the question – why?
I’ve been thinking about this over the past few weeks. Here is my best thought: The spark of new life is always initially hidden from us. We have to trust that it is happening, even when we have no evidence. New life is an act of faith. Let me give you a few examples to highlight my point.
Every spring, old “dead” seeds sit in the ground waiting for the rain and the warm sun. Long before the green delicate stem pushes through the wet and dark ground, the dead seed casing has already broken open and given way to new life. Before green pushes through, you look at the ground in early spring and it looks like nothing is happening. New life has begun, but its hidden from us.
The same thing is true of human life. We only see signs of new life as the baby grows in darkness. Then, after 9 long months, we see life – fully formed as it exits the womb.
So, long before we see signs of new life, we have to trust that it is happening. This is perhaps why “the moment” of Jesus resurrection had no eyewitnesses...
New life happens in the dark.
LENT / 2021
One of my favorite hymns was written over 250 years ago by Robert Robinson. One verse comes and goes so quickly that if we're not paying attention the melody will easily carry us into the next compelling stanza.
But if we pause for a moment on the lyric - prone to wander, Lord I feel it, we'll realize that these seven words summarize the inclination and journey of every human heart. Sometimes strong, sometimes subtle, our hearts feel a strange pull to leave home and wander in foreign lands in search of something other. In response to all this wondering, the forty days of Lent can be summed up with one powerful word – Return. Many times over the course of our lives we leave the well-marked path of wisdom. We wander, we take short-cuts, we blaze our own trail and eventually without fail - we get lost.
When the pain of our wandering forces us to be slow down, we can begin to sense a homing beacon inside of us. We listen and hear a compassionate voice whispering in the depths of our hearts.
Lent is an invitation to tune our ear and listen to that voice calling us home.
But if we pause for a moment on the lyric - prone to wander, Lord I feel it, we'll realize that these seven words summarize the inclination and journey of every human heart. Sometimes strong, sometimes subtle, our hearts feel a strange pull to leave home and wander in foreign lands in search of something other. In response to all this wondering, the forty days of Lent can be summed up with one powerful word – Return. Many times over the course of our lives we leave the well-marked path of wisdom. We wander, we take short-cuts, we blaze our own trail and eventually without fail - we get lost.
When the pain of our wandering forces us to be slow down, we can begin to sense a homing beacon inside of us. We listen and hear a compassionate voice whispering in the depths of our hearts.
Lent is an invitation to tune our ear and listen to that voice calling us home.
