Lent has always carried an apparent purposefulness in creating sorrow, shadows of gloom & regret, and a wrestling of sorts with endings. With its popular association with self-denial and the giving up of favorite things, one can almost feel desert hermits flagellating themselves for enjoying their own breath. Certainly, there is something to be said for taking time to reckon with one's enthrallment to society's penchant for consumer-driven individuality, the drive for money, and the lens through which something only has value if it has a price tag. Yet in Christ, that notion is clearly rejected. Also, all of us created in the image of God are not commodities to be jockeyed and traded like stocks on Wall Street. There should be remorse sought for one's participation in such dehumanization. But what troubles my spirit about the "sackcloth and ashes" and wailing over our sinfulness is how it gets left there for six long weeks.
Christianity is not a faith about endings, at least it shouldn't be. "In our end is our beginning." That beginning doesn't wait for six weeks of bewailing our broken unworthiness. The hope in Christianity is not that evil will be purged and wiped from the earth if we just deny ourselves! That perspective has spawned so much war, violence, and hate! No! The hope in Christianity is that we each possess a brilliant, golden-glowing seed of immortality graced to us by the Most Holy One, held in the outstretched hand of Jesus Christ. Take it! That is our beginning, and as such, there is no ending.
As I age, I am aware of a subconscious thought that rises to the surface: my life is coming to an end. Shouldn't I do something with the time I have left? But what if the time I have left is infinite? Then what? What is the shame-proof faith-based calling you have? To whom has God always called you to be in league with to build God's realm on earth? Do you really want to keep putting that off for another six weeks?
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