28 February 2012

Lent 1

Here we are at the first Sunday of Lent. The Sunday where we acknowledge our intentional journey towards Easter, a journey acknowledging the promise of salvation that we first hear about in the Genesis account. But we need to prepare ourselves for that time of God’s promise, and so we have this season of Lent, this distinct time set apart. Lent’s theological backings come from this very Gospel we’ve just heard. Jesus has just gone through his baptism, and then he is very starkly forced into a time of test and trial. (Mark does not mince his words – the heavens are torn apart for the Spirit, Jesus is thrust into the wilderness, it’s quite harsh, and without any time for preparation.) And Jesus is there, in the wilderness, for 40 days – which is why our season of Lent is 40 days long, so that we too can try to walk closer with God and share in a minimal way what Jesus experienced.
So let’s consider Lent. It is a time when we have Purple hanging in the church – and on my stole – purple representing suffering and pain. And so the very colour we hang in the church, and the yoke I wear on my shoulders, acts as a constant reminder that this is not meant to be an overly joyful season.
Lent is a time where we are encouraged to examine ourselves spiritually, and to take up three specific tasks, every day. These are: fasting, prayer, and charity. These are meant to be acts of individual undertaking, acts that we do but do not boast about. So let’s consider those in turn.
Fasting. To do without. We often hear of people doing a fast, that is to voluntarily go without food or water. There are so called health plans out there these days that promote fasting for weight loss or internal cleansing. There are just as many health professionals who suggest that such fasting is not healthy, nor is it overall effective in the long haul.
So how do we fast in a spiritual way? How do we do this task in a way that will be of long-term benefit not just to ourselves but to the world? And how do we do it in such a way that we ourselves stay healthy, and promote a healthy spirituality to others? We find the answer to this is we turn to the scriptures. Isaiah 58.6-7 tells us this:
“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?”
This passage makes it very clear that the acceptable fast is not merely abstinence from food or water, but a decision to fully obey God's commands to care for the poor and oppressed. And these wishes are repeated in Daniel, in Zechariah, in the Acts of the Apostles (among many others). We’re given the example of fasting not just by this one account of Jesus, but also by the actions of Moses, King David, Anna (the prophetess who announced Jesus as the Messiah), Paul, and many others.
We’re invited to a spiritual fasting that comes with a lot of history.
So in these days, our fasting may be seen in the tradition to ‘give something up for Lent’. This is one of the most common questions – what are you giving up for Lent. For some people, it’s chocolate or sweets, for others it’s something more addictive like cigarettes. I’ve known people who gave up sloth by beginning a new exercise regime, others who have given up TV, many who are giving up Facebook and other social networking. Whatever it is, though, it should be something that has meaning to you. Something that you would otherwise enjoy on a daily or almost daily basis. Something that you will distinctly notice is missing – and therefore be reminded of the severity of the season, of the denial of self as a spiritual practice in which you are intentionally walking closer with Jesus. And may you find strength from that journey with the Christ in your time of denial.
So now we turn to another area of Lenten observance – prayer. We are called to pray daily, but we are especially reminded of this during our Lenten season. Jesus spent his time in the wilderness in prayer – we hear in today’s Gospel how the angels attended to him there, as an answer to his prayer. For Jesus, the whole journey was not about himself, but instead was about God. And so he focused his attention during his time of test on God. And we’re invited to do the same.
So why do we pray? Well, there are several reasons – we pray for guidance, for assistance, for strength. We pray for others, people and situations, who are in need of the same. We pray for the forgiveness of our sins, which means we first have to confess our sins – both to ourselves AND to God. Which can be a profound experience.
We pray in direct petition, to establish conversation with God, like an ongoing chat throughout our day. We pray in structure, in order to better learn from God, such as when we follow our prayer books. We pray rationally, to better focus our thoughts on divinity, like reading theology as a means to understanding God. We pray to experience God’s action in our lives, to better centre ourselves as God’s children, such as through meditation or contemplative prayer. We pray to be transformed by the experience, to have a new understanding that wasn’t there before, not to influence God but to change our very nature. (Soren Kierkegaard)
Whatever our prayers are, however often our prayers are, our daily prayers are a focus of this season. And we’re invited to consider our prayer practices during this time. Some people will include a new prayer cycle, others will try a new practice. Some will include intentional prayers at new times – our Islamic friends pray 5 times a day; imagine what your life would look like if you set aside time and space to pray 5 times daily during this Lent. Some people light a candle during their prayer time to help focus their attention, others will try a new devotional. Whatever your prayer practices are during this Lenten season, I hope that you will enter them intentionally – aware of the benefit of prayer on your relationships – with God, with those around you, with your very self. And I pray that we will all be diligent in our Lenten prayers and continue this part of our journey throughout, and beyond, this season.
The third component of Lent is that of charity. Now, the practice of charity is defined as benevolent giving and caring. In this vein, the notion of alms-giving is often translated today as ‘charity’ And so, this may be the time where you expect me to speak of my favourite ‘charities’ (PWRDF, Anglican Foundation, our church, etc.) However, I’m going to focus on the very concept of the Christian virtue of charity. This is defined as the concept of unlimited love and kindness. Or, to paraphrase, charity is doing something for someone else, unasked, unexpected, which makes their life a little bit better. A little bit happier.
Charity does not have to be a huge thing. We were not born to change the whole world on our own – if we had been, we would have come into the world wearing tights and a cape. We were born, however, to change OUR world. To make it that happier, better place, a little bit at a time.
We, in general, try to surround ourselves with goodness and love, and ignore or reject any evil or sadness that may be lurking. But charity challenges us not to reject or ignore those negative spaces, but to influence them, to change them,. To invite them to come into the positive place that we know as God’s children.
We experience charity as a small difference – it can be a smile, a door held open. It can be welcoming a stranger with kindness rather than with hesitation. It can be a refusal to jump to conclusions about someone else. It can be an intentional act to make someone feel comforted and comfortable.
It can also be the act of receiving charity – and being gracious about it. Jesus in the wilderness accepted the kindness and ministrations of the angels – we too are invited to accept the unlimited love and kindness of those around us.
This week I had the privilege of receiving an act of charity. On Wednesday I was in the midst of traveling home, and at one of the layovers had the chance to attend an Ash Wednesday service at the airport chapel. The place was full, and when it came to the offering I realised that I did not have any cash on me. Before I knew it, the man next to me had simply dropped a dollar bill onto my lap – and when I looked up I saw he had done the same with the woman on his other side as well. It was a tiny thing – a small gesture – the man had intended to put all this money in the offering anyway. But by silently and discretely placing a bill on our laps, we were able to feel that we were contributing. We didn’t have the awkward moment of passing the plate on without adding anything to it. And we all know that THAT moment can feel uncomfortable when we’re not at home. Nearer the end of the service, I made a point of thanking him aloud, and he simply and politely shrugged it off – I was just the nice thing to do, he said. But I was aware of the gift that had been given – and that I had taken part in. This man had practiced true charity – he had changed the world by giving just a tiny bit – a tiny bit of money, a tiny bit of dignity, and tiny bit of compassion. And so the world was a tiny bit better because of this nameless man. And my life is a tiny bit better because I got to witness, and receive, this act of kindness, of charity.
And so I invite us all to continue these types of acts of charity – acts of unlimited love and kindness – to those we see around us. We don’t do these things to be acknowledged, or even known – I’m sure my airport friend would be mortified if he knew he was in a sermon this morning – but we do these things simply because we can do them, to make the world a little bit better. And we receive these things because we recognise that someone else is trying to make the world a better place, too. So whatever your heart is calling you to do this Lent, to demonstrate love and kindness, I encourage you to do it.
So throughout fasting, and prayer, and charity, I pray that we might all endure throughout this season of Lent in such a way that when we emerge at Easter we are truly prepared to celebrate the joyful resurrection of Christ in our lives. I pray that we journey these 40 days with intention, with care, with purpose. I pray that at the end of our 40 days, we may recognise our appropriate response to Jesus’ command to “repent, and believe in the good news.”

1 comment:

Kate said...

Thank you for continuing to share your sermons here. This was more thought-provoking than the 2 I heard on Sunday! Did I tell you that last year, I fasted from fiction? Longest 40 days ever!