Love Bade Me Welcome
Happy Valentine's Day!May you experience and share abundant love today.A friend recently shared this poem with me by George Herbert and I thought it would be fitting to share it with you on this day of celebrating love.
Lent: Turning to Love
I meant to post this yesterday, on Ash Wednesday, but somehow things got away from me. Anyways, here are some of my Lenten thoughts.I've never been a fan of penitence--I mean, who is? Not that I don't feel regret or remorse for the bad things I've done, for the ways I've hurt people. I do. But just the word "penitence" makes me think of a "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" sermon with fiery w
arnings of Hell and scare tactics.I am not drawn to a God of anger, but a God of Love. I serve a Savior whose Law is Love and whose Gospel is Peace.I don't really know what to make of substitutionary atonement, but it's easy for me to see I'm messed up. I'm selfish. I'm prideful. I'm apathetic of others' pain and hurt. It's easy to believe the wages of sin is death. I sow seeds of death every day.And the only antidote is Love. Is Love Himself come down among us, with us. The only answer to this messed up world we live in, to the grains of anger that lead to war and genocide and torture and all of things I could never imagine doing because I have a hard enough time watching crime shows or Fight Club, the only antidote to all of this is the complete opposite of hate and revenge, bitterness and vengeance. It's Love.And I see that in the life of Christ. The life of a man who prayed for and forgave his enemies, not just the distant "them" enemies, but the very enemies who killed him. The ones right in front of him. I see this hope, this love, this answer in the life of a man who served others and chose powerlessness and integrity over power for his own gain. Who healed the sick and gave sight to the blind and set the captives free. Who chose sacrificial love to the point of death. Who showed an alternate way to live and be in this world.This Lenten season I want to set aside time and prayer and energy to be more like Jesus. Isn't that, after all, what Lent's about?Ann Voskamp writes, “Lent isn’t about forfeiting as much as it’s about formation."This Lent I want to be formed. I want to cultivate compassion in my heart and actions. To choose the way of sacrifice and rebellion against self-interest. To retreat into the presence of the Father when I become overwhelmed. To draw my strength not from the esteem of man, but from the One who has called me blessed. Who has called me to continue His works. Whose hearts breaks even more than mine for the injustice and poverty and horror in this world. Whose heart breaks for every tear that falls.This Lenten season I have decided to give something up. In years past I've been vegan or given up desserts or diet Coke or gum for Lent. This year, I will be giving up tv--well Netflix to be exact. With my new volunteer job and ongoing freelance responsibilities, I don't have as much time to waste watching Netflix, but I still find myself turning to the comfort of tuning out to English language episodes whenever I'm bored, tired, lonely.For the next six weeks, when I find myself bored or tired or lonely, I will choose, instead, to spend that time either in prayer or in connecting with the people around me or praying for the people I love who are far from me. I will engage. I will not disconnect. I will sit still in the presence of the Lord and allow Him to speak. Allow Him to form me. I will turn to Love.***Are you giving up anything for Lent? What do you hope to gain? ***For more ideas on how to engage, reflect, and prepare for the Lenten season, check out Rachel Held Evans' 40 Ideas for Lent compiled with the input of her blog readers.
T.S. Tuesday: A Fat Revelation
According to my Google Calendar, today is the day I rejoice in love handles and greasy food and too-tight-jeans. Today, February 12th, is an all day Fat Celebration.
Oh wait, that can't be right. Before Google so rudely auto-corrected for redundancy, the calendar item I input should have read Fat Tuesday Celebration.That's it. Today is Fat Tuesday. Or Shrove Tuesday. Or Mardi Gras. Today is the last day before the commencement of Lent.Tomorrow, millions of Christians around the world will attend a mass or church service highlighting humankind's mortality and sinfulness. A small cross will be smudged with ash across their foreheads as a visible symbol of mortality and repentance, a sign of mourning for our sins, both individually and collectively. And for the next 40-ish days, many Christians will observe Lent by committing to a discipline of self-denial, such as fasting.Tomorrow, many would say, begins the real soul work. The humility and the bowing down. The confession and the contrition. The 40 days of preparation fashioned after Jesus' 40 days of temptation in the desert that will lead us to the richness of the Last Supper, the agony of Judas' betrayal and Jesus’ crucifixion, and then into the glory of His resurrection.But that all comes later. Today, we party. We indulge. In Spanish, they say, "Aprovechamos" or we take advantage of the freedom before the fast.
And while I don't condone drunken carousing or irresponsible indulging (or certainly not breast baring for beads), I do think there is soul work in celebration. In gratitude. In joy. In aprovecharing the present moment.Here in Antigua, Guatemala, kids engage in a few Carnival traditions of their own, which I'm excited to witness. One of which is the making and breaking of "cascarones," or egg shells painted and filled with bright confetti (called pica pica). I've seen the bright bags of confetti all around the market, and apparently today at school they get to dress up in costume and break the shells they've made over their classmates' heads in one wild fiesta before the fast.And of course it wouldn't be T.S. Tuesday or the approach of Ash Wednesday without a reference to T.S. Eliot's poem, Ash Wednesday.As I think of today’s flash of vibrant colors before tomorrow’s dust and ash, I'm reminded of Eliot's prayer:
"Teach us to care and not to careTeach us to sit still"
I'm reminded of my own prayer to care and not to care.Perhaps that's what Lent does--the purposeful giving up of worldly comforts and pleasures teaches us to live intentionally. Forces us to examine what we really care about. Challenges us to be present in the moment, regardless of external circumstances.Despite the name of the poem, I've never really connected these words of Eliot's with the observation of Lent. Until now. A big, fat light bulb sparks: the caring about the things that matter and the releasing of the trivial, the tiring, the tearing down. The act of sitting still. These all begin with repentance. With confession and humility. With the giving up of pride. With the acceptance of our own faults and blames.The teaching doesn't have to be some abstract spiritual concept, but could start with the actual act of confession, of bowing low, of relinquishing self-consciousness for long enough to walk around with ash smudged across your forehead.That could be just the catalyst needed to help us realign our priorities. To teach us to care and not to care. To teach us to sit still in the presence of an awesome God.Now for me, that is one fat revelation.***So how about you... Do you have a Fat (Tuesday) Celebration (or revelation) of your own? Are you going to an Ash Wednesday service? Will you observe Lent? What are some practices you use to live more intentionally, to learn to care and not to care?