Come to
Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to
be still before God.
Opening
Prayer: Gracious
God, today begins a period of inner reflection and examination. The days stretch
before me and invite me inward to that silent, holy space that holds your
Spirit. This special time beckons me to see my life through Christ's eyes and
the truth and reality of your love incarnate. Give me the grace to enter the
space of these days with anticipation of our meeting. And, when I open my soul
to your presence, let your loving kindness flow over me and seep into the
pockets of my heart. I ask this for the sake of your
love.
Psalm for the
Week: Psalm 63
Scripture for the Day:
Matthew 6:1-21
Reading for Reflection:
Dorothy Sayers
writes that to make the Easter story into something that neither startles,
shocks, terrifies, nor excites is “to crucify the Son of God afresh.” Certainly that would have been unthinkable
for Jesus’ first followers, who experienced it firsthand: the heady excitement
of his entry into Jerusalem, the traitorous cunning of Judas and the guilty
recognition of their own cowardice, the terror of his slow suffocation, and
finally the disarming wonder of an empty grave and a living body resurrected
from the dead.
As for us, his latter-day disciples, few
would deny the magnitude or drama of these events. But how many of us embrace their pain and
promise? How many of us, even at Easter,
give Christ’s death and resurrection any more attention than the weather?
To observe Lent is to strike at the root
of such complacency. Lent (literally
“springtime”) is a time of preparation, a time to return to the desert where
Jesus spent forty trying days readying for his ministry. He allowed himself to be tested, and if we
are serious about following him, we will do the same.
First popularized in the fourth century,
Lent is traditionally associated with penitence, fasting, almsgiving, and
prayer. It is time for “giving things
up” balanced by “giving to” those in need.
Yet whatever else it may be, Lent should never be morose—an annual
ordeal during which we begrudgingly forgo a handful of pleasures. Instead, we ought to approach Lent as an
opportunity, not a requirement. After
all, it is meant to be the church’s springtime, a time when, out of the
darkness of sin’s winter, a repentant, empowered people emerges. No wonder one liturgy refers to it as “this
joyful season.”
Put another way, Lent is the season in
which we ought to be surprised by joy.
Our self-sacrifices serve no purpose unless, by laying aside this or
that desire, we are able to focus on our heart’s deepest longing: unity with
Christ. In him—in his suffering and
death, his resurrection and triumph—we find our truest joy.
Such joy is costly, however. It arises from the horror of our sin, which
crucified Christ. This is why Meister
Eckhart points out that those who have the hardest time with Lent are the “god
people.” Most of us are willing to give
up a thing or two; we may also admit our need for renewal. But to die with Christ?
Spiritual masters often refer to a kind of
“dread,” the nagging sense that we have missed something important and have
been somehow untrue—to ourselves, to others, to God. Lent is a good time to confront the source of
that feeling. It is a time to let go of
excuses for failings and shortcomings; a time to stop hanging on to whatever
shreds of goodness we perceive in ourselves; a time to ask God to show us what
we really look like. Finally, it is a
time to face up to the personal role each of us plays in prolonging Christ’s
agony at Golgotha. As Richard John
Neuhaus (paraphrasing John Donne) advises, “Send not to know by whom the nails
were driven; they were driven by you, by me.”
And yet our need for repentance
cannot erase the good news that Christ overcame all sin. His resurrection frees us from
ourselves. His empty tomb turns our
attention away from all that is wrong with us and with the world, and spurs us
on to experience the abundant life he promises. (Bread and Wine; Readings for Lent and Easter, The Plow
Publishing house)
Reflection and Listening: silent and
written
Prayer: for the church, for others, for
myself
Song for the Week:
Jesus I My Cross Have Taken
Jesus, I my cross have
taken,All to leave and follow
Thee.Destitute, despised,
forsaken,Thou from hence my all shall
be.Perish every fond
ambition,All I’ve sought or hoped or
known.Yet how rich is my
condition!God and heaven are still my
own.Let the world despise and
leave me,They have left my Savior,
too.Human hearts and looks deceive
me;Thou art not, like them,
untrue.O while Thou dost smile upon
me,God of wisdom, love, and
might,Foes may hate and friends disown
me,Show Thy face and all is
bright.
Man may trouble and distress
me,
’Twill but drive me to Thy
breast.Life with trials hard may press
me;Heaven will bring me sweeter
rest.Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm
meWhile Thy love is left to
me;Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm
me,Were that joy unmixed with
Thee.Go, then, earthly fame and
treasure,Come disaster, scorn and
painIn Thy service, pain is
pleasure,With Thy favor, loss is
gainI have called Thee Abba
Father,I have stayed my heart on
TheeStorms may howl, and clouds may
gather;All must work for good to
me.Soul, then know thy full
salvationRise o’er sin and fear and
careJoy to find in every
station,Something still to do or
bear.Think what Spirit dwells within
thee,Think what Father’s smiles are
thine,Think that Jesus died to win
thee,Child of heaven, canst thou
repine.Haste thee on from grace
to glory,Armed by faith, and winged by
prayer.Heaven’s eternal days before
thee,God’s own hand shall guide us
there.Soon shall close thy earthly
mission,Soon shall pass thy pilgrim
days,Hope shall change to glad
fruition,Faith
to sight, and prayer to praise.
Closing
Prayer:O
God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in
quietness and in trust shall be our strength: by the power of your Spirit lift
us, we pray, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (The
Book of Common Prayer)
