Palm/Passion Sunday

Palm/Passion Sunday: I remember the first couple of times I heard that term.  It refers, of course, to this day, the Sunday prior to Easter Day. It is a kind of expedient.  It recognizes that there are a lot of people who will attend church today and observe The Triumphal Entry.  Then they will stay at home and not come to church again until next Sunday, when they will join in the proclamation of Easter.  They will skip Holy Week, and Good Friday in particular, and therefore move from celebration to celebration, from joy to joy, without experiencing any of the anguish of the Upper room; Gethsemane; The Betrayal; The Arrest; the various trials before the Sanhedrin, before Herod, or before Pilate; The Flogging; the Via Dolorosa; The Crucifixion; or The Entombment.  So many people will refuse to recognize these terrible moments.  They move from Palms to Lilies.  They ease from Sunday to Sunday without a lot of discomfort at all.  I had a dear friend and active church member who said of Holy Week, “I just can’t stand to think of Jesus in a situation like that.”

As I said, I remember the first couple of times I heard of “Palm/Passion Sunday.”  I was horrified.  Now you must realize that this was early in my ministry.  My idealism was still running at a fairly high level.  I have come to understand that there are reasons beyond spiritual laziness why folks might not be in church on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday or for other Holy Week observances.  So, while I don’t see it as the best of all possible worlds, I have made my peace with Palm/Passion Sunday. 

It starts off with The Liturgy of the Palms in all three years of the Revised Common Lectionary Cycles.  It then moves to the Liturgy of The Passion, where in one form or another it rehearses the death of Jesus.  Folks use these two elements in varying ways, but at the core is a lifting up of both Triumphal Entry and the Death of Jesus.  And, it may be that such a day encompasses the gospel in a way that we don’t see on a garden-variety Sunday.  So, ambivalence and all, Happy Palm/Passion Sunday.

As I said, I remember the first couple of times I heard of “Palm/Passion Sunday.”  I was horrified.  Now you must realize that this was early in my ministry.  My idealism was still running at a fairly high level.  I have come to understand that there are reasons beyond spiritual laziness why folks might not be in church on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday or for other Holy Week observances.  So, while I don’t see it as the best of all possible worlds, I have made my peace with Palm/Passion Sunday. 

It starts off with The Liturgy of the Palms in all three years of the Revised Common Lectionary Cycles.  It then moves to the Liturgy of The Passion, where in one form or another it rehearses the death of Jesus.  Folks use these two elements in varying ways, but at the core is a lifting up of both Triumphal Entry and the Death of Jesus.  And, it may be that such a day encompasses the gospel in a way that we don’t see on a garden-variety Sunday.  So, ambivalence and all, Happy Palm/Passion Sunday.

A different way of preparing for Easter

 The emphases of a season like Lent naturally change over time.   Practices come and go.  Traditions evolve due to necessity or convenience.  Lent as we know it is in some ways very different from the way in which the church ordered its practice in times past.

One of elements for this season in the early church was that it took the days of Lent to give “final instructions” to those who were in the process of becoming full members of the church.  The church called these learners catechumens.  These inquirers underwent a three-year instructional period in preparation for becoming a part of the fellowship.  In Lent those who were nearing the end of their training would enter a time of intense concluding instruction.  Then during the triduum – the last hours of Lent, beginning the evening of Maundy Thursday and lasting until sunrise on Easter Sunday – the church would teach these people elements like The Lord’s Prayer and an affirmation of faith like The Apostles’ Creed.  They kept vigil all during this time.   (If the catechumen fell asleep at any point during these hours, they were welcome to begin another three-year instruction and undergo all the process again.)

On Easter morning the church baptized these folks and welcomed them to their first Holy Communion.  At this point the church counted them as full members of the fellowship. 

For individuals who were not full members of the church, they participated in the first part of a worship service.  They joined in some of the prayers and sang hymns.  But the church dismissed them (to a time of sharing preparatory information) before the church joined in scripture and Eucharist.  Imagine going through a three-year process to join the church when seekers had never been a part of the principal worship activity of the group.  And yet, the church flourished.

It is cause for some lamentation that in our day many churches welcome new members who present themselves on the spot.  There is no preparation, no instruction at all.  I have seen people who have hardly ever been inside a church building before in their lives come to the chancel at the conclusion of a worship service.  They declare that they “have been saved.”  At that point the enthusiastic clergy baptizes and confirms them on the spot.  I am sad to say that the vast majority of these instantly-received people fall away from the church within a year.

The wisdom of the ages had a procedure and it served the church well.  Three years may be a bit much in the modern day.  Offering a sixty-hour vigil to potential twenty-first century seekers might not be a strong selling point.  But a real sense of intentionality might help cement the bond between seeker and church.  It might also help eliminate the “anything goes” attitude that emerges in church folk from time to time.  Adding more time is not the answer.  Including more substance might make the difference.

Upon the collect for the Fifth Sunday in Lent

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly
wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to
love what you command and desire what you promise; that,
among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts
may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found;
through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with
you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

The line is, "How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?"

CHANGE?!

That may be funny.  It is also demonstrably true.  As a group, Christians are not big fans of change.  Oh, we have made our peace with air conditioning, padded pews and electric organs.  But we can be set in our ways in regard to process and what we sometimes call "Tradition."  It has been remarked that the Seven Last Words of the Church will be, "we've never done it that way before."

Our collect invokes the action of God to "fix our hearts in the face of the swift and varied changes of the world."  I believe that one of the attractions the church offers is that we tend to do the same things in the same ways week after week.  That kind of constancy can be a blessing.  But mindless routine is a curse.  We trust in the steadfastness of God to anchor us in what is righteous while preventing us from falling victim to the blasphemy of the mundane.

I believe that the pivotal word in this prayer is not "unruly" or "changes " or "fixed."  I believe the key term in this entreaty is "joy."  We pray that God will set our hearts on our true source of joy, the Lord Jesus Christ.  Lent is so often portrayed as a dark and dour time.  But it is the very purpose of the season to bring us into deeper communion with the source of  our hope.  And of our joy.

Upon the collect for The Fourth Sunday in Lent

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down
from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world:
Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in
him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one
God, now and for ever. Amen.

We have all heard of harsh prison sentences where the incarcerated individual is limited to  "bread and water."  The intent of the punishment is to put a convicted law-breaker on a subsistence diet.  It is enough to maintain, but it is meant not to be a means by which the prisoner may thrive.  It is a starvation diet.  It is intended to cause discomfort and even misery.

For the Community of Faith, it is different.  Christ is the true bread of heaven.  In John 6, Jesus says, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty."  Within our faith, we uphold the belief that Christ is sufficient for our nurture, our flourishing, and our salvation.  

It is not the intent of a gracious God that we "get by."  Christian folks think not just of subsistence life, but abundant life.  God provides for our bodies and our spirits in a way that no other source can deliver.  

We remember the gift of Holy Communion that provides for our spirits and serves as a foreshadowing of the full range of gifts that Christ the Bread of Life provides.

The different Temptation of Christ

 In preaching a sermon on the Temptation narrative, Fred Craddock makes an interesting observation.  He points out that the common perception of the devil is that of a being with horns and a red suit, pointy tail and sharp goatee.  If you look up the temptation of Jesus on Google, many of the images have the bat-winged, almost cartoonish figure that goes with the stereotype.  Even allowing for the symbolic representation of some of these pictures, the overall effect is a bit much.  Craddock says that, given this appearance, most of us would be on our guard and would be prepared to resist the Tempter.

My image comes from the Bible story books that used to be in the doctor’s office when I was a child.  The devil was a bit sinister in appearance, to be sure.  But he wasn’t a caricature.  He was gesturing in a welcoming fashion while Jesus was turning away and holding up his hand in a resisting posture.  That might prove a bit more daunting.  Or at least convincing.

Craddock, though, says that when he pictures Jesus in this setting, he pictures him alone.  He is after all in the desert. He has been there some time.  He has not eaten for over a month.  What more powerful ordeal might there be than to face the wilderness alone? 

That gives me something to conjure with.  It is the kind of perception that used to make radio so powerful.  If you listen to “War of the Worlds” or “Dracula” from the Mercury Radio Theater, these works can be much scarier than storytellers depict on any movie screen.  The imagination is the greatest narrator in the world.  In that light, a temptation without physical presence, a temptation guided by the psyche, might be the most persuasive of all.

Lead us not into temptation…

Upon the collect for the Third Sunday in Lent

Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves
to help ourselves: Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and
inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all
adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil
thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus
Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy
Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

 

This is the Collect for the Third Sunday in Lent.  It contains the affirmation, "We have no power in ourselves to heal ourselves."  Among the many themes of this stretch of time is our total dependence on God's Grace.  The church has combated the concept of "works righteousness" from its beginnings.  

One can understand the reasoning behind embracing a theology of works.  In a culture of the "self-made individual" and "pulling oneself up by the bootstraps" it is attractive to think that our salvation can be accomplished by our own actions.  If we work hard enough, strive faithfully enough, and check all the boxes that should be enough to earn a spot in heaven.

But the church has never taught that.  Salvation is not a human activity.  Deliverance is an act of God, and God grants that gift not to the active but to the faithful.

The collect goes on to petition the Lord to keep and defend us.  This is a further assertion that we are utterly dependent on God.

The season of Lent is a time of seeking to be drawn closer to God.  It is not about us.  It is about God.

Jesus' second word from The Cross

 "Today, you will be with me in paradise."  -- Luke 23:43

In the traditional scheme of Jesus' Seven Last Words, this saying is the second of Jesus' pronouncements.  It is Jesus' response to the second of the two thieves with whom Jesus was crucified.

 I have heard the "Today" of this saying batted around to ridiculous extents.  The crux of that debate is whether people immediately enter Heaven (or Hell) upon their deaths, or do they await a general resurrection on the Last Day? Some of those in the latter camp hold that only Enoch, Elijah, Moses, the thief on the cross, and Mary the Mother of Jesus (or any combination of these folks) are already in Heaven.

Likewise, people argue ad infinitum about the precise nature of "Paradise."  the popular modern understanding is that the term refers to "Heaven."  But what 21st century believers frequently understand by that word is totally outside any First Century comprehension of Paradise.  And again, one question becomes, "when does one enter whatever realm is in the afterlife?"  A lot of people have ideas about such things, but there is neither a definitive answer nor a consensus opinion.

I hold that the thrust of the saying is found neither in the first term nor the last.  The comfort, the revelatory sympathy, comes in mid-sentence: "with me."  The "when" or the "where" is irrelevant in the face of the "who."  Isn't the hope of every believer that -- in whatever form it presents itself -- that we abide with Jesus?  If that is our hope, if that is our promise, the rest of the debate fades as does a puff of smoke.

If Jesus says, "...you will be with me..." that is enough.

The peace of the Lord be with you.

Further thoughts on Lent

 The liturgical season of Lent has a long history.  As you can imagine, some aspects of the seasonal observance change over time.  The church adds some things.  Other features fall away.  It can be a fluid time. 

One of the practices of days gone by was that the church took this time to instruct and examine people who had left the church or who had been dismissed from its fellowship.  It was a bit easier to do when the church was more monolithic.  Now, if someone becomes disaffected but does not desire to live outside the church altogether, they can join another congregation or denomination.  They can remain anonymous regarding their past church affiliation.  Beyond affirming that they have received baptism (and perhaps answering some questions regarding the mode of baptism) most churches receive membership transfers no questions asked.  If the receiving congregation bothers to contact the individual’s former church at all it is a formality.  It has to do with membership totals rather than spiritual nurture.  So, the idea of expulsion in the name of church discipline is effectively non-existent.  Likewise, a member who chooses to leave for even the most trivial of reasons does not have to explain or justify their uniting with another church.

In a different time, a dismissed church member petitioned the congregation for re-admission.  Church and individual examined the separation and a time of inquiry and instruction followed.  Then, on Easter Day, the approved member re-entered the community of faith.  It was a time of true reconciliation between a congregation and a returning person.

Now, I am not advocating kicking people out of the church’s fellowship.  Likewise, pressuring folks with too many questions provides a sure-fire guarantee to run them off.  But I see an ideal world where -- if someone presents themselves for church membership after being a part of another fellowship – the receiving church might ask, “Why?”

People relocate.  They need a church home.  They fall away and look for a fresh start.  I’m good with that.  But, “I didn’t agree with everything my former church did or believed or said it stood for” might require some more examination.  The “it’s easier to leave than work out our differences” practice brings a lot of malcontents into local churches for a lot of the wrong reasons.  Again, I look at an ideal where churches look to make disciples and not claim scalps.

I also look to an ideal where the search for genuine reconciliation is real. 

I can dream, can’t I?

Upon the Collect for the Day

 

O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns,one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

This is the collect for the week (The Second Sunday in Lent) from The Book of Common Prayer. As with most of the prayers in this volume this collect has a simple elegance that I find in few other places.  If you compare the BCP to most of the liturgical and prayer resources of The United Methodist Church the UMC material hides its face in shame.  One of my mentors in commenting on Methodism’s rituals told me, “Some day our church will employ a poet as part of the liturgy production process, and we’ll be far better off than we are now.”

Truer words.

But, as I consider the work at hand, one term strikes me.  It is the word “unchangeable.”   It comes in the phrase “to hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son.”  I hear this with the ears of someone who has endured the blather of the United Methodist Church’s special called General Conference of three years ago.  I heard this word and similar ones bandied about by people who seemed to have no idea what their language meant.

Because there is a difference between “unchangeable” and “unchanging.”  Unchangeable is a word that we reserve for God and Christ and the Holy Spirit.  It speaks of Truth with a capital “T.”  Unchanging is a more stubborn word and folks seem to use it to defy the reality that things of the faith and understanding and revelation are fluid in their natures.  The list of things about which the church (or much of the church) has altered the literal language of the Bible is endless.  The role of women, slavery, treatment of children, polygamy, capital punishment and a host of dietary laws do not begin to complete the list of practices that modern-day Christians have modified beyond the letter of the law in Scripture. 

Anyone who says that faith and commandment and law are static terms in the practice of the Christian religion is either naïve or spends their entire life with their head in the sand.  God is unchangeable.  Revelation is ever-changing.  That we are not bound by a rigid set of laws under penalty of damnation is affirmed in the first line of today’s collect: O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy…  If it is God’s nature to put mercy first, it seems only fitting that those who would identify themselves as children of God should do the same.

Giving Up Something for Lent

 

Lent is a season that -- for some -- includes fasting as a way of observing this time.   Jesus fasted for forty days following his baptism.  During this time, he was in the wilderness being tempted by the Devil.  This fast and the Lenten season are connected by this number of days and by this fasting practice.

I don’t know that many people literally fast for this entire period.  Even with the fact that Sundays don’t make up a part of this self-denying season, I don’t hear people reflecting on their season-long denial of food.

Some folks participate in a partial fast.  They will refrain from eating until three in the afternoon, or until sunset (they hate to see Daylight Saving Time come).  Others follow a long-standing church tradition of abstaining from “pleasant food.”  I suppose that is a bit of a subjective evaluation.  One person’s “pleasant” is another one’s “rejection.”

So, observing this time with an exercise of self-denial takes on many forms.  “Giving up something for Lent” leaves the realm of food behind for a lot of people.  They instead abandon practices or diversions for these days.

It is not up to me to judge another person’s spiritual discipline.  But I would ask anyone to evaluate their choices with this question: Is that which you are setting aside good enough to give up for Lent?   What I mean by that is does a person set aside something that is bad for them and then claim it as a spiritual discipline?  I have heard people talk of giving up excessive consumption of alcohol, smoking, driving over the speed limit, cursing, overeating and a host of other behaviors in the name of observing the season.

As difficult as it may be for some individuals to set aside addictive behavior, I question the labeling of these things as a sacrificial gift that one places before the Throne of Grace.  If I “give up” overindulging of food, do I set my practice down at the feet of Christ and say, “Lord, I have given up gluttony in my devotion to you?”  I mean, isn’t gluttony one of the Seven Deadly Sins?  Isn’t it a practice that I should have avoided from the get-go?  Do I give myself permission to be a glutton again once Lent is over and Easter commences?  That just doesn’t seem right.

So, what is appropriate if we observe this practice?  I have known people who have given up seemingly small things, but they required real effort on the part of the practitioner.  One of the positives that grows out of a decision to deny something is that some believers leave behind a practice and in its place, they substitute times of prayer, meditation or reflection.  When Lent passes, they may re-order their lives for the long haul.  Or, they may resume their former ways with a new appreciation of the part that the thing they have done without plays in their lives.

So, if we have set something aside (or start today, as there is no need to be legalistic – it’s not too late), we might want to make sure that it’s good enough.

An alternatiave view

 

The New Revised Common Lectionary (NRCL) recommends as the gospel reading for today – the first Sunday in Lent – The Temptation of Jesus story from Matthew 4:1-11.  The initial reasoning is obvious I think: the passage talks of the forty days of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  This segues into the 40-day observance of Lent into which the church has just entered.  At that level I suppose that the reading is appropriate.

But, in another consideration, I don’t like this choice at all.  The reason being that, if we equate our experience with that of Jesus¸ then the purpose or emphasis of our Lenten observance must also be with temptation.  You can use the word “testing” or “trial,” but the connotation is the same.  The time of Lent becomes something grim in our eyes.

Sure, Jesus’ fast translates into our practice of “giving up something for Lent.”  But what about the rest?  There is no real corollary in human experience to the call to transform stones into bread.  We are not truly given an opportunity to rule all the kingdoms of the earth.  And while I don’t want to deny the possibility of divine intervention, I can’t remember any contemporary example of someone who jumped from a high place only to be borne up by angels.  The transference just doesn’t hold up.

I do not deny the value – or inspiration – of this or any other passage of scripture.  And, I don’t suppose that there is any biblical passage that is truly inappropriate for any given Sunday or time of worship.  I do wonder, though, about designating this passage or its synoptic counterparts as the Lenten reference.  The gospel readings for the rest of the season of Lent have nothing to do with forty or fasting.  They call to mind other legitimate seasonal themes.

Make no mistake, the Temptation narrative is the gospel text at my church today.  I call to question, though, the implicit position that this is the great table-setter for the season, and that no other passage can carry the freight.  It is not a season about temptation.  It is not a season about the miraculous.  It is a time when real human beings grapple with their own fallenness and the grace of God that delivers them from that Fall. 

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The peace of the Lord be with you.

The forty days of Lent

 

 

I observed earlier that the season of Lent was forty days in duration.  This stretch of time excludes Sundays.  I’ll say more about that later.  But I want to say a thing or two about the time that the church assigns to Lent.

In its very early days the church devoted only Holy Week to the anticipation of Easter.  Over time the period came to be two weeks, then a month, and finally the church settled on the current duration.

There are a lot of connections to the number forty in the Bible.  God cleansed the earth with a flood that lasted forty days.  Israel wandered in the wilderness forty years in the period of the Exodus.  Moses was on Sinai forty days receiving The Law from God.  David reigned as King for forty years, as did Solomon.  Elijah fasted in the wilderness over a span of forty days.  Jesus’ fast and temptation took place over forty days.  The resurrected Christ appeared to his disciples in a forty-day span prior to The Ascension.  Finally, the Crucified Christ was in his tomb for forty hours.  It should not surprise us, then, that forty days became the duration of Lent.

When the number forty appears in scripture, there is also a sense of fulfillment.  Forty hours or forty days or forty years is “enough” time for the activity at hand.  Forty is sufficient.  It has a connotation of having contained all the time that was necessary to accomplish a given end.

Finally, forty days is roughly one-tenth of a year.  It is a tithe and therefore an appropriate time dedicated as a gift to God.

Yesterday the church began this cycle again.  I pray that we all find our sense of completeness over these forty days.

Ash Wednesday

 

Today is Ash Wednesday.  It is the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent.  The day gets its name from the historic Christian practice of retaining the palm branches that adorned the church sanctuary on the previous year’s Palm Sunday.  In making ready for Ash Wednesday the church burns the palms and then the priest/pastor applies the ashes in the shape of a cross to the foreheads of those who worship on that day.  Wearing ashes is a traditional sign of penitence. 

In the Bible persons frequently wore ashes as expressions of grief or penitence (2 Samuel 13, Job 42, Jeremiah 6, Daniel 9, Hebrews 9, Matthew 11 and Luke 10 among others). 

When Christian worshipers receive the imposition of ashes in worship, the presider usually says some form of Genesis 3:19, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."  The presider will often conclude with, “Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

Because the date of Ash Wednesday depends on the timing of Easter, this observance moves around the calendar a bit.  It can fall anywhere between February 4 and March 10.

Ash Wednesday marks the commencement of the season of Lent.  These are the forty days immediately preceding Easter (excluding Sundays, which are reflections of Easter Day itself and are therefore inappropriate occasions for denial). 

Some folks erroneously teach that Lent is an extended period of “getting ready for Easter.”  Lawrence Hull Stookey reminds us that

Lent, until its final week, is a time of disciplined consideration of our life and death as transformed by our covenant with God and is closely related to the administration and reaffirmation of baptism at Easter.¹

This season is a kettle that sits on its own bottom.  It is related to – but independent of – our observance of Easter.

The liturgical color for the day (and season) is purple.  This is a solemn hue that represents penitence in the lives of Christians.

The liturgy for the day includes confession and absolution in preparation for the imposition of ashes.  Psalm 51 is a traditional expression of confession and many churches use this as part of their ritual for the day.

^{1 Lzwrence Hull Stookey, Calendar: Christ's Time for the Church}

^{(Nashville: Abingdon, 1996).}

A different way of getting ready for Easter

 The emphases of a season like Lent naturally change over time.   Practices come and go.  Traditions evolve due to necessity or convenience.  Lent as we know it is in some ways very different from the way in which the church ordered its practice in times past.

One of elements for this season in the early church was that it took the days of Lent to give “final instructions” to those who were in the process of becoming full members of the church.  The church called these learners catechumens.  These inquirers underwent a three-year instructional period in preparation for becoming a part of the fellowship.  In Lent those who were nearing the end of their training would enter a time of intense concluding instruction.  Then during the triduum – the last hours of Lent, beginning the evening of Maundy Thursday and lasting until sunrise on Easter Sunday – the church would teach these people elements like The Lord’s Prayer and an affirmation of faith like The Apostles’ Creed.  They kept vigil all during this time.   (If the catechumen fell asleep at any point during these hours, they were welcome to begin another three-year instruction and undergo all the process again.)

On Easter morning the church baptized these folks and welcomed them to their first Holy Communion.  At this point the church counted them as full members of the fellowship. 

For individuals who were not full members of the church, they participated in the first part of a worship service.  They joined in some of the prayers and sang hymns.  But the church dismissed them (to a time of sharing preparatory information) before the church joined in scripture and Eucharist.  Imagine going through a three-year process to join the church when seekers had never been a part of the principal worship activity of the group.  And yet, the church flourished.

It is cause for some lamentation that in our day many churches welcome new members who present themselves on the spot.  There is no preparation, no instruction at all.  I have seen people who have hardly ever been inside a church building before in their lives come to the chancel at the conclusion of a worship service.  They declare that they “have been saved.”  At that point the enthusiastic clergy baptizes and confirms them on the spot.  I am sad to say that the vast majority of these instantly-received people fall away from the church within a year.

The wisdom of the ages had a procedure and it served the church well.  Three years may be a bit much in the modern day.  Offering a sixty-hour vigil to potential twenty-first century seekers might not be a strong selling point.  But a real sense of intentionality might help cement the bond between seeker and church.  It might also help eliminate the “anything goes” attitude that emerges in church folk from time to time.  Adding more time is not the answer.  Including more substance might make the difference.

Giving up something for Lent

 

Lent is a season that -- for some -- includes fasting as a way of observing this time.   Jesus fasted for forty days following his baptism.  During this time, he was in the wilderness being tempted by the Devil.  This fast and the Lenten season are connected by this number of days and by this fasting practice.

I don’t know that many people literally fast for this entire period.  Even with the fact that Sundays don’t make up a part of this self-denying season, I don’t hear people reflecting on their season-long denial of food.

Some folks participate in a partial fast.  They will refrain from eating until three in the afternoon, or until sunset (they hate to see Daylight Saving Time come).  Others follow a long-standing church tradition of abstaining from “pleasant food.”  I suppose that is a bit of a subjective evaluation.  One person’s “pleasant” is another one’s “rejection.”

So, observing this time with an exercise of self-denial takes on many forms.  “Giving up something for Lent” leaves the realm of food behind for a lot of people.  They instead abandon practices or diversions for these days.

It is not up to me to judge another person’s spiritual discipline.  But I would ask anyone to evaluate their choices with this question: Is that which you are setting aside good enough to give up for Lent?   What I mean by that is does a person set aside something that is bad for them and then claim it as a spiritual discipline?  I have heard people talk of giving up excessive consumption of alcohol, smoking, driving over the speed limit, cursing, overeating and a host of other behaviors in the name of observing the season.

As difficult as it may be for some individuals to set aside addictive behavior, I question the labeling of these things as a sacrificial gift that one places before the Throne of Grace.  If I “give up” overindulging of food, do I set my practice down at the feet of Christ and say, “Lord, I have given up gluttony in my devotion to you?”  I mean, isn’t gluttony one of the Seven Deadly Sins?  Isn’t it a practice that I should have avoided from the get-go?  Do I give myself permission to be a glutton again once Lent is over and Easter commences?  That just doesn’t seem right.

So, what is appropriate if we observe this practice?  I have known people who have given up seemingly small things, but they required real effort on the part of the practitioner.  One of the positives that grows out of a decision to deny something is that some believers leave behind a practice and in its place, they substitute times of prayer, meditation or reflection.  When Lent passes, they may re-order their lives for the long haul.  Or, they may resume their former ways with a new appreciation of the part that the thing they have done without plays in their lives.

So, if we have set something aside (or start today, as there is no need to be legalistic – it’s not too late), we might want to make sure that it’s good enough.

Upon the Collect of the Day

 

O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns,one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

This is the collect for the week (The Second Sunday in Lent) from The Book of Common Prayer. As with most of the prayers in this volume this collect has a simple elegance that I find in few other places.  If you compare the BCP to most of the liturgical and prayer resources of The United Methodist Church the UMC material hides its face in shame.  One of my mentors in commenting on Methodism’s rituals told me, “Some day our church will employ a poet as part of the liturgy production process, and we’ll be far better off than we are now.”

Truer words.

But, as I consider the work at hand, one term strikes me.  It is the word “unchangeable.”   It comes in the phrase “to hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son.”  I hear this with the ears of someone who has endured the blather of the United Methodist Church’s special called General Conference of three years ago.  I heard this word and similar ones bandied about by people who seemed to have no idea what their language meant.

Because there is a difference between “unchangeable” and “unchanging.”  Unchangeable is a word that we reserve for God and Christ and the Holy Spirit.  It speaks of Truth with a capital “T.”  Unchanging is a more stubborn word and folks seem to use it to defy the reality that things of the faith and understanding and revelation are fluid in their natures.  The list of things about which the church (or much of the church) has altered the literal language of the Bible is endless.  The role of women, slavery, treatment of children, polygamy, capital punishment and a host of dietary laws do not begin to complete the list of practices that modern-day Christians have modified beyond the letter of the law in Scripture. 

Anyone who says that faith and commandment and law are static terms in the practice of the Christian religion is either naïve or spends their entire life with their head in the sand.  God is unchangeable.  Revelation is ever-changing.  That we are not bound by a rigid set of laws under penalty of damnation is affirmed in the first line of today’s collect: O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy…  If it is God’s nature to put mercy first, it seems only fitting that those who would identify themselves as children of God should do the same.

Further thoughts on Lent

 The liturgical season of Lent has a long history.  As you can imagine, some aspects of the seasonal observance change over time.  The church adds some things.  Other features fall away.  It can be a fluid time. 

One of the practices of days gone by was that the church took this time to instruct and examine people who had left the church or who had been dismissed from its fellowship.  It was a bit easier to do when the church was more monolithic.  Now, if someone becomes disaffected but does not desire to live outside the church altogether, they can join another congregation or denomination.  They can remain anonymous regarding their past church affiliation.  Beyond affirming that they have received baptism (and perhaps answering some questions regarding the mode of baptism) most churches receive membership transfers no questions asked.  If the receiving congregation bothers to contact the individual’s former church at all it is a formality.  It has to do with membership totals rather than spiritual nurture.  So, the idea of expulsion in the name of church discipline is effectively non-existent.  Likewise, a member who chooses to leave for even the most trivial of reasons does not have to explain or justify their uniting with another church.

In a different time, a dismissed church member petitioned the congregation for re-admission.  Church and individual examined the separation and a time of inquiry and instruction followed.  Then, on Easter Day, the approved member re-entered the community of faith.  It was a time of true reconciliation between a congregation and a returning person.

Now, I am not advocating kicking people out of the church’s fellowship.  Likewise, pressuring folks with too many questions provides a sure-fire guarantee to run them off.  But I see an ideal world where -- if someone presents themselves for church membership after being a part of another fellowship – the receiving church might ask, “Why?”

People relocate.  They need a church home.  They fall away and look for a fresh start.  I’m good with that.  But, “I didn’t agree with everything my former church did or believed or said it stood for” might require some more examination.  The “it’s easier to leave than work out our differences” practice brings a lot of malcontents into local churches for a lot of the wrong reasons.  Again, I look at an ideal where churches look to make disciples and not claim scalps.

I also look to an ideal where the search for genuine reconciliation is real. 

I can dream, can’t I?

The Different Temptation of Christ

 In preaching a sermon on the Temptation narrative, Fred Craddock makes an interesting observation.  He points out that the common perception of the devil is that of a being with horns and a red suit, pointy tail and sharp goatee.  If you look up the temptation of Jesus on Google, many of the images have the bat-winged, almost cartoonish figure that goes with the stereotype.  Even allowing for the symbolic representation of some of these pictures, the overall effect is a bit much.  Craddock says that, given this appearance, most of us would be on our guard and would be prepared to resist the Tempter.

My image comes from the Bible story books that used to be in the doctor’s office when I was a child.  The devil was a bit sinister in appearance, to be sure.  But he wasn’t a caricature.  He was gesturing in a welcoming fashion while Jesus was turning away and holding up his hand in a resisting posture.  That might prove a bit more daunting.  Or at least convincing.

Craddock, though, says that when he pictures Jesus in this setting, he pictures him alone.  He is after all in the desert. He has been there some time.  He has not eaten for over a month.  What more powerful ordeal might there be than to face the wilderness alone? 

That gives me something to conjure with.  It is the kind of perception that used to make radio so powerful.  If you listen to “War of the Worlds” or “Dracula” from the Mercury Radio Theater, these works can be much scarier than storytellers depict on any movie screen.  The imagination is the greatest narrator in the world.  In that light, a temptation without physical presence, a temptation guided by the psyche, might be the most persuasive of all.

Lead us not into temptation…

An alternative view

 

The New Revised Common Lectionary (NRCL) recommends as the gospel reading for today – the first Sunday in Lent – The Temptation of Jesus story from Luke 4:1-13.  The initial reasoning is obvious I think: the passage talks of the forty days of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  This segues into the 40-day observance of Lent into which the church has just entered.  At that level I suppose that the reading is appropriate.

But, in another consideration, I don’t like this choice at all.  The reason being that, if we equate our experience with that of Jesus¸ then the purpose or emphasis of our Lenten observance must also be with temptation.  You can use the word “testing” or “trial,” but the connotation is the same.  The time of Lent becomes something grim in our eyes.

Sure, Jesus’ fast translates into our practice of “giving up something for Lent.”  But what about the rest?  There is no real corollary in human experience to the call to transform stones into bread.  We are not truly given an opportunity to rule all the kingdoms of the earth.  And while I don’t want to deny the possibility of divine intervention, I can’t remember any contemporary example of someone who jumped from a high place only to be borne up by angels.  The transference just doesn’t hold up.

I do not deny the value – or inspiration – of this or any other passage of scripture.  And, I don’t suppose that there is any biblical passage that is truly inappropriate for any given Sunday or time of worship.  I do wonder, though, about designating this passage or its synoptic counterparts as the Lenten reference.  The gospel readings for the rest of the season of Lent have nothing to do with forty or fasting.  They call to mind other legitimate seasonal themes.

Make no mistake, the Temptation narrative is the gospel text at my church today.  I call to question, though, the implicit position that this is the great table-setter for the season, and that no other passage can carry the freight.  It is not a season about temptation.  It is not a season about the miraculous.  It is a time when real human beings grapple with their own fallenness and the grace of God that delivers them from that Fall. 

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The peace of the Lord be with you.