Just When I Thought I Knew What Forgivness was...

Kathy and I are doing daily Lenten readings from the Online Ministries page at the Creighton University website. Part of the daily exercise is a reading of the lectionary scriptures for the day. Just a couple days ago we had a reading from Isaiah 1, you probably know the passage, the one that opens with "Come let us reason together..." and then goes on to describe how the Lord can take sins that are scarlet and make them white as snow. Everyone quotes that verse every now and then when we find ourselves really in need of forgiveness and have that nagging suspicion that maybe this time we have gone over that line that marks the boundary of the unforgivable sin. It's a powerful verse or two but as we read the larger context of the scripture in our daily reading it suddenly became so much larger in its scope and power. Whatever I thought I understood as forgiveness seemed very shallow in the light of the whole chapter. For the first time in my entire spiritual pilgrimage I discovered who those verses were spoken to. We often have the annoying habit of taking any scripture and applying it to our own case and conditions, but often it helps to understand who the words were specifically written to. And in this case it is found in verse 10. "Hear the word of the Lord, you rulers of Sodom; give ear to the instruction of our God, you people of Gomorrah." Now I understand that the prophet is probably speaking allegorically here....the nation of Israel had fallen so low as to become like the people of Gomorrah and its leaders like those in Sodom. But there is always layer upon layer in prophecy and I saw the Lord speaking to Sodom and Gomorrah, those cities whose sin cried out to heaven for God's vengeance, and He says to them "though your sin be scarlet, I can make it white as snow." My understanding of the power of God's grace suddenly became much larger than it has ever been. The prophet Jeremiah later asked, "Can a leopard change its spots?" The amazing answer is yes, and when it does God's forgiveness is present to affect the change.

Ash Wednesday, A Time for Returning

The first reading for today is taken from Joel 2:12 and it sets the whole call of this season clearly before me....." Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart..." Simple, straightforward, understandable - but ever elusive. Why should that be? I think it is because we grow comfortable in our spirituality and it is difficult to confess that we have drifted away from the Lord's presence over time, or even stubbornly stormed off over something that we counted as more important that what He had to offer. To seek to return one must first admit a wandering away, and sometimes we hold such a lofty view of our spirituality that such a confession is difficult. Yet why not? We may not be as bad as the prodigal son who squandered his father's graciousness, we may only be as bad as a sheep who in its own distraction has gone astray. But either needs to return and it does not seem God makes distinctions regarding depth of depravity....He meets the prodigal son on the road and interupts his litany of confession to embrace him with unmerited love. He seeks out that which was lost and when he returns with the one sheep he declares a feast of rejoicing. But the key is the word "whole", as in undivided, complete, nothing withheld. That type of returning is not done in one night and for that I am thankful for the 40 days of this Lenten season.

A Reflection on Faithfulness

Well, it's been a little over a year since I started this blog. I never expected anyone to really read it or follow it, I just felt the need to get some of the things I've written especially on the liturgical cycle of the church year out there onto the web so that there was a chance of them surviving me when my time comes. And reflecting back on that year I see I have been less then faithful to write, but is that any surprise? I have friends who started blogs with good intentions who have left them go fallow for months or longer. It doesn't mean that they ran out of things to write on or have nothing left to say, but just that priorities changed, time allocation became jumbled and some things laid aside or forgotten. I speak from experience. But the thing that I know about my walk with God is that there is no such thing as too late, or not enough, or anything else of that sort. Today is always a new opportunity to start afresh, a time for renewal, a time to remember, a time to pick up one foot and place it in front of the other and get back to the business of walking this pilgrim trail.

So here I am, at least a month since my last post but looking forward to Ash Wednesday in only three days and the start of Lent. There seems to be no better time to begin anew again, not only in this blog but in my spiritual journey. Seems I have left many things go fallow over the past months, it's time to decide which pieces of ground need to be reworked again, and which I will just leave to another generation to consider.

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.

Reminiscere Sunday, the Second Sunday in Lent

The second Sunday in Lent is called Reminiscere from the first words of Psalm 25:5-6, “Remember, O Lord.” The dictionary definition of the word “remember” is so bland, “to bring to mind.” How boring! It’s sort of like remembering that 2+2 = 4. But close your eyes for a moment, and remember a truly “memorable” occasion, a family gathering or an outing or pivotal decision made. You will not just recollect facts, but will find yourself reproducing emotions, being aware of sounds and smells, noticing expressions and nuances you would never see in a bare factoid. Consider this. When Jesus says “As often as you eat this bread or drink this cup, remember Me”, He is not asking us merely to recite a creed or catechism lesson about the facts of His saving sacrifice. He is asking us to be one with Him; to experience devotion not doctrine, relationship not religion. Remembrance to me carries with it more of the picture of making something present again with all its power to touch and move our entire being, not just our mind.

So on this past Sunday we called out to God and asked Him to remember. Remember what? Well, the psalm gives us three invocations for God to remember in the two verses noted above, two are framed in a positive sense, and one in a negative. “Remember, O LORD, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old. Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me, for you are good, O LORD.” This second Sunday of Lent finds us asking God to once again make present before His eyes abounding and eternal mercy and love on our behalf, and to let us start to understand how it is that God looks upon us. And knowing that He is looking upon us, we are quick to ask Him not “to forget”, but “to remember not” our sins, to make them as far as the east is from the west from before His presence. This allows us to realize afresh that it was while we were yet sinners, that Christ died for us. And because of that great gift, there is now, therefore, no condemnation for us who are in Christ Jesus. God's perfect love has cast out our fear before Him. But frail as we are, we are bold to remind Him yet once more to look upon us, with all of our baggage and inadequacies, with the measuring stick of His eternal love. With such assurance we can boldly stand upon the promise of God’s word, “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” That is a very reassuring thought in our spiritual pilgrimage of Lent.

Invocabit Sunday, First Sunday in Lent

Tomorrow is Invocabit Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent. It takes its name from the psalm reading for the day, Psalm 91 at verse 15. "He shall call upon me." In case you don’t know, the "he" is you and me. The scripture readings for the day may vary, depending upon your church tradition, but the theme of the entire Sunday usually centers on these important truths so important for our Lenten pilgramage:
1. In this life we will struggle against "the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life." as St. John summarizes. Our response to temptations in those areas serve to define where our true allegiance lies. We can only serve one master and Lent reminds us to remember that with all seriousness.
2. Our struggle against these strongholds requires self-denial, for we must take up the cross of Jesus daily, losing our life in order that we might receive it from him in fullness. The cross is to those that perish foolishness, but for us who believe, it is the power of God unto deliverance.
3. Since we struggle against principalities and powers, expect that all of your strength will soon be spent. You best intentions, solemn vows, and spiritual disciplines will lie broken or exhausted at some point in this Lenten journey. But we have the assurance that the weapons of our struggle are divinely ordained and divinely empowered. They are capable of storming and tearing down the strong places in our hearts and bringing every unruly tendency within us into obedience to the will of God in Jesus. So at that point of near surrender, call out to God.

Piece of cake? Absolutely not. I wish it were so but I have weathered enough Lents to know that the gaining of something eternal always costs me something. Even though grace is a gift, there is a great difference between receiving it freely and then letting it permeate every nook and crany of your soul. The book of Hebrews says that we have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in our struggle against sin; let’s be honest, most of us haven’t even broken a sweat yet. But that is what this season of Lent is about, and Psalm 91 reminds us that when we call upon God, "I will answer him, I will be with him in trouble, I will rescue him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him, and will show Him my salvation." The gospel reading recounts Jesus’ own temptation in the wilderness. Ah, the wilderness, a place of aloneness, of scarcity, of bleakness, of testing. Forty days of Jesus in the wilderness and forty days of Lent...do you notice any similarity? The wilderness is a place where there are wild beasts, some around us, but I think as well some within us. But if we face its testing by our confidence in the promises of God, and by our obedience to that which He commands, the wilderness must eventually give way and then, the scripture says, the angels of heaven minister to us. May this first Sunday of Lent renew our determination to let God have His whole way with us, body, mind, heart and spirit.

A Vision for Lent

"Then to Adam He said....Cursed is the ground for your sake; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life. Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you, and you shall eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for dust you are, and to dust you shall return." Genesis 3:17-19

The keeping of days, times or seasons must be based on the divine action and revelation of God lest it supplant the very calling of God. Thus the Church has, since ancient times, celebrated the Paschal cycle ("...indeed Christ our Passover, was sacrificed for us." I Cor. 5:7) which marks the very work of God's salvation in the earth made possible by the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Man had been separated from God by his sin and was without hope in this world. The continual offering of the blood of bulls and goats was insufficient to atone for his transgression. It required a supremely more perfect sacrifice, a divine sacrifice of the blood of the only begotten Son of God to accomplish redemption. It required Jesus Christ who was that "Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world".

Informally the season starts on Septuagesima Sunday which marks out a period of time of about seventy days before the celebration of Resurrection Day. The next two Sundays before Lent, Sexagesima (sixtieth), and Quinquagesima (fiftieth) remind us of the transition made in the Church year from the celebration of the Lord's birth and Epiphany (manifestation) to the world, and the season of preparation for recalling His all-sufficient sacrifice. Formally, Lent (which comes from an Old English word meaning Spring) starts on Ash Wednesday. This day is marked by the placing of ashes on the heads of the faithful in the sign of the cross with the words "Remember, man, thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return." It is the pronouncement of death upon us, a recognition of the consequences of our sin. The words carry with them the same dread and sorrow which they did when Adam heard them from the very mouth of God. Unless God be gracious, the enormity of our sin must surely swallow us alive and carry us down to the grave. Ashes have always been a sign of frailty and transience (consider the grass thrown into the oven in Matt. 6:30). They also speak of mourning and repentance when seeking the favor of God (consider Esther 4:1 or Jonah 3:4-9). To us they speak of humility and repentance. The ashes used in the service come from burning the palms which were used during last year's Palm Sunday celebration when our hearts were joyful at the coming of our King. Now we humbly prepare those same hearts to turn from our sinfulness to seek again His righteousness.

Forty days are marked by Lent from Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday. We do not count Sundays in our observance for these days have forever been marked as days of rejoicing and celebration by the Resurrection of the Lord. The other days are days marked by special prayer, fasting, self discipline in striving against sin, and sacrificial giving. The Church has always prescribed the two fold discipline of fasting and almsgiving as strong weapons in the fight against self-centeredness and indulgence. Forty is a sacred number being 4, the symbol of the earth, multiplied by 10, the symbol of the complete judgement of God. Forty days marked the deluge which cleansed the earth in the time of Noah; forty years the wandering of the Jews in the wilderness to purge their unbelief; forty days the fasting and warfare of Jesus in the wilderness against Satan. May we welcome this season as the time in which "the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, purge [our] conscience from dead works to serve the living God." (Hebrews 9:14)

Good Intentions

It's funny how you can start something with the best of intentions, this blog, for instance, and then completely forget about it in the busy-ness of daily life. There are two paths at least that lead on from this. You can completely be disgusted by your lack of follow-up and just bag the whole thing and forget about it, or you can admit that you were not as diligent as you thought you were going to be and pick up and move on as best as you can. That is the path I am trying to walk now and we will see whether I succeed or not in the weeks to come. I had intended to chronicle my thoughts starting with the beginning of the new liturgical year in Advent, here I stand on the eve of Ash Wednesday and Lent is upon me. I suppose that is at least as good a place to start and so I do.