On Liturgy and Lent

I miss the liturgy. There’s an irony in that statement, because if you know my history, you know that other than a brief stint when I served with IVCF at Loyola, I’ve never regularly attended Mass. I grew up and now serve in the Nazarene church (an evangelical holiness denomination for those unaware)…but sometimes I feel like I missing something.

I LOVE my church. Hear me on that, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE hear me on that. But I miss the liturgy, and the way that engages so many of my senses. I love the way I am required to actively participate by kneeling, reciting, and responding. The introvert in me hates the passing of the peace (I totally slip in right before service and sit in the last two rows hoping to be completely unnoticed), but I love the recitation “Peace be with you” that accompanies it. There are candles burning and stained glass and I am hearing and reciting prayers that people have prayed for thousands of years and that will be prayed by people across the globe that very day. I join the rhythm of worship with others.

For those unfamiliar with the church calendar, today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten season. Lent is a time of remembrance and preparation for the celebration of Easter. And engaging it has changed my life and renewed my faith. So this morning, at 7:30am, before class, before the start of my workday, I went down to the Episcopal Church for their first Ash Wednesday service of the day. The Scripture reading was, great irony of ironies, Isaiah 58:1-12.

I came out of the church with ashes smudged on my forehead, a profound reminder that I join the tradition of others, and a deep sense that I want to worship God this Lenten season. I want to know Him. And I want to get rid of the stuff that keeps me from doing that and replace it with stuff that does.

Part of that process for me this year is fasting coffee. Coffee represents, and supports, a lifestyle which I need to walk away from. It enables a complete and total lack of balance which I can no longer sustain and be in right relationship with God. But, as I was reminded this morning in a conversation with K. (as I planted myself on a chair in her office, exhausted), it cannot just be about the fasting. I need to replace the unhealthy pattern of imbalance with a healthier pattern of self awareness and the drawing of boundaries. I cannot go Sabbathless indefinitely. Or continue to push through when I am sick (like I am right now). And eventually, I would like to stop double booking on a weekly basis.

I am no different from the Israelites addressed in Isaiah 58. But there is salvation, for the Lord declares, “If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath and from doing as you please on my holy day, if you call the Sabbath a delight and the LORD’s holy day honorable, and if you honor it by not going your own way and not doing as you please or speaking idle words, then you will find your joy in the LORD, and I will cause you to ride in triumph on the heights of the land and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob.” For the mouth of the LORD has spoken.” So I fast for Lent and I will fumblingly place boundaries where there are none. And I cling fast to His promise in Isaiah 58:13 – that the result will be joy.

Pursuing Wholeness...

This week I have been preparing a narrative sermon based on Luke 8:40-48. For those who can't randomly connect stories to Scriptural references (don't worry, I can't either), its the story of the woman who touches the hem of Jesus' cloak and is healed.

The story is incredibly powerful- a woman, marginalized by a condition she couldn't control rendering her unclean, and thus unable to engage in society, is so drawn to Jesus that she touches his garment in a crowd. She did so at enormous risk- by touching him, by even being in the crowd she was rendering Jesus and any she bumped into unclean and therefore, unable to worship or interact with others. The gain, however, was huge- she was made whole and Jesus sent her in peace. Seven days after that, she was able to be cleaned and could rejoin society. She could go to the temple to worship. She could go to the well when others were present. She didn't have to worrry about being in a crowd anymore.

The more I learn about the Gospel, about this whole having a relationship with Jesus, its that it is about wholeness in every area of life. Jesus wants us to be whole, fully restored people and He will go to absolutely incredible ends to do that for us. I am talking physical, mental, emotional, spiritual restoration. The question for us is simply how bad do we want it? Because of my own circumstances recently, I have been faced with the question: what of my present reality am I willing to risk to be whole? How much do I trust Him? Am I willing to reach out and touch the hem of His cloak?

Shouldn't this be hard?

So I am well into Lent at this point, having now survived several weeks without television and movies. To be honest, now that the initial "wait, I can't turn on my tv" has passed, I am surprised at how relaxing its been to be without them both. I'm actually getting more homework done, spending quality time with people (engaging them in conversation as opposed to zoning out to a movie in the same space), and reading more. I feel like I am waiting for that bumpy space when I become completely and totally miserable because I gave something up for Lent...and yet, its not there.

I don't want to pretend like Lent hasn't been a bit of a rough patch for me- God is bringing out things in my life I had left long buried and exposing them to the light. My picture of myself and my picture of God are both sadly distorted in some areas, and gently, He's been correcting that. I am going through a process of refinement and recommitment to my relationship with God. That process, in case your wondering, has been completely gut wrenching at times, and I've probably cried more in the past month than I have in a long time.

Slowly, I am casting aside the notion that life has to be difficult in order to be really lived. Where exactly does that idea capture the joy, peace, and hope of the Gospel? How then, does it line up with Jesus' promise that His, "...yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light" (Matthew 11:28)? Um, it doesn't.

This journey has been worth it. Yes, I have cried, and had to rethink some things. But in the midst of the hard stuff, there have been moments of deep joy, utter contentment, and amazing freedom. In setting aside something temporarily and being willing to engage God, I feel like I've gained far more than I've lost. And I can't wait for Easter. To celebrate, really and truly joyfully celebrate, the resurrection.

My Lenten journey- Week 1

This year, after several years spent not observing it, I made the decision to engage Lent. Although its not necessarily part of my upbringing or church background, I started observing Lent my senior year of high school with a number of my Roman Catholic co-workers. At that point, all I knew about Lent was that it started on a Wednesday and it involved giving something up until Easter. Over the years, I’ve given up chocolate, coffee, and meat on Fridays, and I can’t say that it made a substantial difference in my relationship with God. In fact, I’d venture a guess that it simply made me whinier and more difficult to be around (particularly the year I gave up coffee).

This year my approach was different. Lent is a season of preparation. It’s a time of reflection, soul-searching, and repentance. It’s not simply a time of abstinence, but also a time to engage God at a deeper level. With that in mind, in consultation with God, I made the decision to fast movies and television.

It sounds easy, maybe even a tad bit silly. I don’t really have time for those things anyway, do I? You’d be surprised.

What I’ve realized in the past few days is what I use television and movies for. All too frequently, I use movies to escape reality. This isn’t tragic, but it surprised me how often it happens. Instead of engaging God after a frustrating day or when I’m feeling emotional, or making any effort to process what’s going on inside my head, I simply sit in front of a screen and shut down.

Even worse, I (and others) use television and movies as a means of luring me to stop and rest. I am on the go a lot, and recently, I had bronchitis. Although I conceded to two sick days, per my doctors orders, once I returned to work I continued at the ridiculous pace of my normal life, not considering that I needed to continue to rest. On two occasions, friends asked me to watch movies/television programs with them simply because they knew it would get me to sit still for a period of time and relax.

It was noticeably quieter around my apartment this past weekend. The television wasn't on as I got ready for work in the morning, or as I took care of chores around the apartment. My times with God have gotten a bit longer. And I’m learning, ever so slowly, how to stop. It raises more questions then anything. Do I trust God enough to stop and rest? When did I stop consulting God about scheduling and start overscheduling on a nearly daily basis?

I’m still working on the answers….but so far its just been helpful to pause long enough to ask the questions.