Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Ash Wednesday-- a start to lent.

Remember, you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Repent and believe the gospel of Jesus Christ our Savior.

Today is Ash Wednesday and we (the entire family) attended a 7 am Ash Wednesday service at the church. It has always been important to me to take some real time to reflect on what the lenten season means and what it means to sacrifice or purge oneself from a pleasure during these 40 days. Fasting is so contrary to the natural rhythm of our culture. We are a consumer society-- committed to indulging and ingesting anything that finds its way on our path. So... to commit oneself to a 40 day break is contrary to every outside voice and distraction.

I wasn't raised in a liturgical tradition. We didn't observe the church calendar, as many other faith traditions follow. So my time at Quest has given me a new sense and appreciation for the rhythm that the early church established in keeping with their faith. It has stretched me and called me to a deeper sense of struggle and commitment to wrestling with my own faith. I've found that history doesn't have to be sterile or an avenue that chokes life (as my growing up years in the church often taught). In fact, it is quite the contrary, our history, our heritage can give us meaning and a sense of connection to the historical church and in that a fresh sense of life and a call to worship is experienced.

The lent season is not just about a shedding of things-- it is more importantly about the drawing near. It is about the pressing in-- the seeking-- the peering-- the longing to know. And as I've been reflecting these days on just what this shedding or sacrifice should be I was convicted in recognizing how easy it was for me to connect with the 'doing' aspect of lent-- as opposed to the being.

And this is my lent prayer: that I see Christ more clearly, hear His voice more distinctly and be refined into His likeness.

One of the devotions I'm following stated this today on this first day of lent, "Superficial worship, which makes ritualistic gestures toward God while people practice injustice, is worthless... Is not this the fast that I chose: to loose the bonds of injustice...to let the oppressed go free...share your bread with the hungry...to bring the homeless poor into your house...when you see the naked, to cover them...then you shall call and the Lord will answer" (Isaiah 58:6-9). Such is the Lenten journey that God blesses, that we might be called repairers of the breach, restorers of the streets on which we live. (John Martin Mann, Seminary Pastor, Luther Seminary)