Time to Reorient Ourselves

I begin with a side note. The word "orient" is interesting because its primary meaning is to locate a church so that the long axis runs east-west with the altar side pointed to the east. Perhaps this was intended to point us towards Jerusalem or towards the rising sun. I'll let you Goggle out the background of that. But what it reminds me is that the Church is supposed to be literally pointed in a direction, not just architecturally. And while that direction may be related to the mission of the Church (what we do), it is primarily related to the nature of the Church (what we are), the saints of God in Christ. And if we are not oriented towards God as our center then we run the risk of doing many good things that may on the last day just be so much wood, hay and stubble.

And that brings me to our Lenten journey. We are halfway through. If you are like me, you entered this time full of good intentions, armed with spiritual disciplines, and determined to stay the course. If you are like me you are also wondering where the heck you are as you pause at this mid-point. Has there been any benefit in the first part of the journey? Is there a clear direction for the last half? Time to regroup, to remember the direction we began this pilgrimage towards, to reorient and get our bearings. Last Sunday was Occuli Sunday, taking its name from the words of Psalm 25:15, "My eyes are ever toward the Lord, for He will keep my feet out of the trap." That theme is placed just before the Lenten mid-point, I believe, because it anticipates the difficulties of any spiritual journey intended to work eternal good in our hearts. Determine to be pure and your are immediately surrounded by a dozen opportunities to be anything but. Pray for patience and your circumstances fill you with anxiety and turmoil. Habits are not formed in a day by the declaration of a good intention. True spiritual character takes even long for the Holy Spirit to forge in us. So we set out, searching out our path, so aware of where we are walking that we immediately stumble, we mis-step and lose the way having to backtrack to set it right. The psalmist counsels what seems like foolishness, don't look at your path, turn your eyes instead on the Lord and He will keep your feet out of any trap set. We know this instinctively. No one walks a straight line by looking down at his feet, you have to keep your eyes fixed on the point you are walking towards. But more often than not we remain consumed about the path, not the destination. We keep our tally, this is a good day, this not so good, and forget to look Godward. This is Lesson 1 for the midpoint in Lent.

Today is Laetare Sunday, the name taken from Isaiah 66:10 "Rejoice you with Jeruslem, and be glad for her..." The liturgical color for today is rose which is often associated with joy and celebration. It is set just past the mid-point of Lent to remind us that the spirit of repentance is a good thing in its proper dosage and setting, but that it can lead to so much inward turning that we despair of ever going on. We are so focused on our own unworthiness that we miss the love of the Father. We are like the prodigal son so ready to trot out our "I have sinned against heaven and you" speech that we fail to realize that even as we are trying to get the words out, we are wrapped in the best robe, have shoes on our feet, a ring on our hand, and the Father is rejoicing over us despite the pig-stench and filth we are covered in. This Sunday reminds us that God's grace is not an occasion for sober reflection, let's leave that to the systematic theologians to catalogue; it is rather an occassion to be amazed at the goodness of God who is orchestrating celebration because we have come home. God's word continuously reminds us that we draw water out of the wells of salvation with joy. Even Psalm 51 contains that simple prayer in the middle of all of the other heart-wrenching repentence, "Restore to me the joy of Your salvation...". And that is Lesson 2 for the mid-point of this season.

Today is indeed a day to reorient, to get our gaze off ourselves and our failure to accomplish even the smallest thing faithfully for the kingdom, and to "fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and the perfector of our faith." He started this work of grace in us "while we were yet sinners:; surely He is able to finish it. In the celebration of communion with Jesus on this Lord's Day may you find strength and reason for continuing your pilgrimage.