Traditionally the season of Lent is encouraged as a
time of prayer, fasting, spiritual reflection, and penitence - making our
wrongs right as in "bearing fruit worthy of repentance" - all done in
preparation for The Resurrection. Like
the seven days leading up to Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) in the Jewish
tradition, it is a time not to be taken lightly by the faithful as if it has no
significance or that simply going through the motions will satisfy some obscure
"legal" requirement - like the "hypocrites" who are called
out by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.
Though we may never attain a level of spiritual
perfection in this mortal life, this does not mean we are not expected to reach
higher as we strive to "go on to perfection" rather than settle for spiritual
mediocrity. It means we are given some
latitude as we inevitably stumble and fall but
refuse to stay down and resolve to do better
with our Lord's help. This is
"sanctifying grace", intentional discipleship, as we become stronger
day after day. It is as necessary for
the soul as exercise and food are for the body.
It occurred to me this past week, however, that
maybe our focus should not be exclusively on our moral failings, our penitence,
and how we can do better - although this is still necessary for honest inward
reflection and self-evaluation. But maybe
it is time to shift our primary focus in such a way - a much more difficult
way, I think - that we put some real time and thought and effort into what it
means - what it really means - to be a Christian, a genuine disciple of Christ,
beyond being simply a member of a church.
Frankly if we cannot do this for ourselves, we will find it impossible
to articulate genuine, life-sustaining and life-altering faith to others, including our own children and grandchildren. Let's face it; if we are not "ambassadors
for Christ", we are only the "dust from which we came and to which we
will return".
Is our faith defined by a particular code of
ethics? Certainly, but there is
more. Is our faith defined by that one
clarifying moment of justification when we became aware that we have been
forgiven of our past sins when we asked?
Not necessarily, because that "justifying grace" is our Holy
Father's act of mercy. Are we
automatically Christians when we are baptized?
Well, frankly, no; because baptism is, as shown in John the Baptizer's
life, a Jewish practice as well.
We can easily see the Lord has set forth certain
things for us to know in the moral law which teaches us how to treat one
another, how to "love our neighbor as ourselves" which clearly goes beyond
a warm-and-fuzzy emotion we mistake for "love". We should also understand "justifying
grace" as the Lord's act
of mercy. This moment is clarified
further, however, in how or whether we
respond in a transformative and life-altering way. And the difference between a brand-name "Christian"
and a purposeful and intentional "follower of Christ" marked by a
life of constant transformation and spiritual growth is defined and refined by
the length and the depth and the breadth of our response to that mercy which is
our calling.
One of the greatest misunderstandings about Christianity
is that we are defined strictly by a professed allegiance to Christ Jesus, our
knowledge of a certain "creed".
There is that, of course, but there is so much more - much more. There is discovery. This is the exciting and sometimes downright
scary part about "following" Jesus; I mean really going after the
Holy Father through Christ in worship, in prayer, in fasting, in Scripture
study, even in fellowship with one another - it is the discoveries we make
along the way about ourselves, our neighbors, our God revealed in Christ, and our
faith.
These "discoveries" involve constant life-changing
decisions through which we struggle with our own intense personal desires against
what we truly need to grow in faith and in love. For instance, we often confuse material
wealth with personal blessing so much so that we keep our wealth (and thus our
blessings) to ourselves. Or we do
"this" when the Lord is clearly calling us to do
"that".
Like the rich young ruler in Luke 18:18-22, we often think simply obeying a list of
"rules" or merely refraining from evil acts is enough; but even then
we often excuse ourselves from "legalism" when we willfully disregard
these "rules" - such as when we freely engage in the most common and
damaging of offenses: neglect of our neighbors' needs, especially those we
don't like or who are not like us.
It is easy to stumble, too easy, in fact. This is one of the harshest lessons of
life. I submit to you, however, it is
much more difficult to define and
articulate our faith - and even more difficult to truly
"follow" Jesus. We are often
more inclined to expect Jesus to follow us as we "reap and sow" to
our flesh rather than to the spirit. And
this, dear friends, is the emphasis of Ash Wednesday which beckons us into the
challenging and spiritually necessary journey that is Lent.
It is a clarifying moment when we are reminded in a
tangible way of our true origin in the "dust of the earth"; when we
are reminded there will come a day when our mortal bodies will give out - some
sooner, some later. This sounds a little
gloomy and depressing, but we must not deny that death does not discriminate between
young and old, rich and poor, black and white, insured and uninsured, faithful
and not-so-faithful.
So we are called and challenged to put away the
things of the flesh, the things that may satisfy the body but do nothing for
the soul - the soul, that Divine "breath of life" which calls us
beyond our flesh and into communion with our Creator. It is the annual "dose of humility"
we need - to be reminded that apart from our Lord who spoke us into being and
then breathed into us the breath of life, we are only slightly more evolved
than apes - and when our mortal bodies die, so also do we - apart from
the Lord our God who is revealed to us in Christ.
Let us remember that our genuine and holy purpose
for being is always ahead of us, never behind us, as we are renewed by the
mercy and spirit of the Lord our God.
Amen.
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