Lent 2020: Facing the truth.

It was a moment of truth. No need to get into the particulars, we’ve all had them, but when they arrive they cause us to gasp and/or recoil. They make us uncomfortable, and many of us instantly run to solutions or excuses to remove, ease, or deny the truth that’s suddenly looking us square in the face. I’m so adept as this behavior, I’ve had to pay someone to teach me to look at the truth! Even with that person’s help, my eyesight is far from 20/20. 

I could give examples from history, moments that illustrate the importance of looking at truth, wrestling with it, sitting uncomfortably beside it, rather than face or deal with it, but that would distance us from the moments in our own lives that need to be looked at. Focusing on society, or history, is so much easier than looking in the mirror. 

Lent is an invitation to look at truth. No wonder it is not a popular season in the liturgical calendar. Some denominations don’t even recognize it, but those of us who do, those of us who are willing to make this journey, are in for a powerful and wonderful adventure. It’s not a pilgrimage into the light, although I believe there is light in the end. It’s a pilgrimage into the truth, and often that begins with darkness. 

What’s really going on in our hearts? 

What are we really up to when no one is looking? 

Who are we really when we strip away the shiny paper with which we wrap ourselves?

It’s not easy work, which is why so few are willing to do it. We’ll be tempted to focus on solutions, like giving things up (so we’ll lose weight), but the real beauty of the season is found when we walk slowly enough and look deliberately enough at ourselves. We’re told the truth will set us free, but it’s going to hurt like heck to get there!

The light that is Easter awaits us all at the end of these 40 days. It’s more brilliant than any other light, and more powerful than any darkness. In fact, the darkness cannot consume or comprehend the light, we’re also told.

So, I invite you on a journey that is yours alone to take. May we have the courage to begin, the fortitude to continue, and the grace to reach the end. 

 

 

 

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Lent 2020: Returning to Center

It was a rough meeting, and I needed to leave the room calmly to get some air. I excused myself and looked for an empty room where I could gather myself, reclaim my center, but all the rooms down the hall were taken. For an instant, I panicked, but soon realized I didn’t need an empty room. I could breathe right where I was. My center was just where I left it.

As we head toward Lent, which begins this Wednesday, each of us has the opportunity to reclaim our center. For some, that might mean excusing ourselves from our chaotic lives, if only for a moment. For others, it might mean something more substantial like a season-long practice or discipline. And for others, it might involve finding the kind of empty room a retreat can provide. However it happens, what I learned that morning is something to keep in mind no matter how we decide to re-center this Lent: our centers are right where we left them! All we need to do is decide to return. 

However we choose to do so, may we find our way back to center, back to our true selves, back to “home” . . . back to God.

Happy Lent.

Flying

Looking out a window, I saw a flock of Canada geese meandering across a field. Strutting as if kings and queens of their domain, they were clearly headed to a nearby pond. I watched in amusement, but then wondered, given their capacity to fly, why they were walking?

The minute I asked the question, it circled over the flock of geese and back to me like a boomerang. Why, when you can fly, are you content to walk, it asked. Such a question has as much inspiration in it as regret.

I believe we were endowed by our creator with certain inalienable gifts. Unique to each of us, we have all we need to fly, but we spend our time wanting the gifts of others, or doubting the ones we’ve been given. I also think the idea of flying scares us. So, we keep walking. We may puff out our chest and strut for all to see, but, the fact is, we’re still walking. God created us to fly. 

What would it take for you and me to stop walking? I think it would mean putting aside the paralyzing fear of not doing something perfectly. I think it would mean embracing gifts and not downplaying them. I think it would mean refraining from looking over at others in the flock and comparing. I think it would mean no longer listening to what others might say if we were bold enough to fly. 

Easier to think or write, than to do.

And yet, wouldn’t it be great to be the people we were created to be? Not the people we think our parents wanted us to be, our spouses, our children, or or neighbors want is to be, nor the people work pays us to be. No, I mean the people beyond such constrictions, beyond our imaginations - people who have the audacity to fly when everyone else is walking. I know, walking is easier and safer.

I guess it comes down to trusting that the one who made the earth under our feet also make the air under our wings. God’s got us. That’s the most important thing to remember. Yes, there’s a pond nearby, but, if we fly, we can find the sea.

Additional food for thought:

Watch/Listen to this song by Mary Chapin Carpenter:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bduBIq433sI&list=RDbduBIq433sI&index=1

Our Deepest Fear

By Marianne Williamson

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. 
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. 
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us. 

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? 
You are a child of God. 

Your playing small 
Does not serve the world. 
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking 
So that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, 
As children do. 
We were born to make manifest 
The glory of God that is within us. 

It's not just in some of us; 
It's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, 
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. 
As we're liberated from our own fear, 
Our presence automatically liberates others.