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.

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.