Lent what to who?

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.  These 40 days leading to Ressurrection Sunday (that's what I like to call Easter, but I'll get to that later) are to be a time of reflection on the journey of Jesus to the cross.  It is a time to get real about who we are as people.  It is a time to see the darkness of our sin exposed by the light of Christ.  It is a time to lament.

In the American Church today, we are not particularly good at any of these things.  The idea of having our darkness exposed feels like an invasion of privacy--something we as Americans truly despise.  In some circles within the church, sadness is an admission of defeat; the lack of a smile, near blasphemy (just look at the cover of any Joel Osteen book).  Yes, the scriptures to call us to joy, but have we lost the distinction between joy and happiness?

I'm not trying to condemn, but I am trying to show that we need to experience seasons of life.  One of the most beautiful poetic passages in the scripture is in the often neglected book of Ecclesiastes:

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

     a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
     a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
    a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
     a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
     a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
    a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

 

How can we possibly just take the things we like.  How can we joy in birth without acknowledging our frailty.  How can we appreciate peace without the horror of war.  How can we know the joy of the dance without the ashes of mourning.  How can we know the wonder of forgiveness without the pain of confession.

 

This Lenten season, I invite you to join me on the journey to the cross.  Come with me as we explore what it means to mourn in order to experience joy; to suffer pain in order to experience the healing; to die in order to be raised to new life.

 

A good starting point on this journey is to spend some time in those portions of the Bible that are often neglected as being "depressing:"  the books of Ecclesiastes and Lamentations, the mourning and confessional Psalms like Psalm 51 among many others, if you've not recently read the Gospel accounts on Holy Week, read them again (Matthew 21-27, Mark 11-15, Luke 19:26-Luke 23, John 12-19.  Each of these passages end at the grave.  I encourage you to save the ressurrection passages until Easter morning.  I know it's hard, but try to place yourself in the place of the disciples and reflect on the lament of that time.)  As you read these sections, find the joy within them.  Find meaning in the words from Ecclesiastes that say "everything is meaningless."  Find hope in the laments of the exiled prophet.  Find renewal in the confessions of King David.  Find glory in the cross.  Find comfort in the tradional words of Ash Wednesday, drawn from Ecclesiastes 3:20:  "Remember, dust you are, and to dust you shall return."