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.
(From the Service of Ash Wednesday, Book of Common Prayer)
In the midst of the chaos of our lives—in the nation, in our communities, and within our own hearts— we ask ourselves what should we do? We hear many cries go up in outrage, confusion, or despondency. No one I know and love, even those who may have voted for the current administration, expected quite the level of disruption—with its attendant callousness—that surrounds us. We can all agree things we had taken for granted are being dismantled, even broken. Not only livelihoods, but lives are at stake, both abroad and at home.
We are living in a wilderness time when we don’t know where we are all heading. Now more than ever, to claim our identity as Christians is itself a matter of some confusion as we may find ourselves saying, “I am a Christian, but not a (fill in the blank).” I suspect that that kind of division is exactly what brings delight to the Devil, the divider.
So, to the question, “What do we do?” I give thanks for the counsel of the Church to draw near to God in ancient and time-honored ways that we may have forgotten. If there was a time to give thanks for Lent, it is now, for over the next six weeks, we get to make room for Jesus to come alongside us in a focused and intentional way. And we get to do this together, remembering that even Jesus had the Holy Spirit accompanying him on his own time of wandering in the desert and temptation by the Devil.
I will be joining many Christians this Lent by fasting from a practice that I have discovered will be a hard challenge—fasting from my cellphone, from social media, even fasting from all news media—one day a week. I intend to spend one hour in prayer in front of the State House praying in silence for the legislators and our elected authorities who are deliberating what is right, just, and merciful for our neighbors and all God’s children. I intend to share more of what I have with those who are hungry, thirsty, or without shelter or in fear whom I encounter almost daily in my rounds.
Care to join me?
I’m not looking to start a movement—I’m just looking for friends and companions in Christ who are looking for God to help us in our time of trouble.
What good will any of this do? Using the metrics that measure social good or the economy, probably not much. But when I read the stories of Jesus’ encounter with Satan in the wilderness and of his encounters with individuals whose souls and bodies are hurting, I see the whole cosmos turning, healing, being restored and renewed. It’s how God does things. That’s a Lent I look forward to. That’s a Lent that anticipates an Easter that can’t resist arising even when we don’t see it. Yet.