|
After
hearing his predicament, I was quickly moved to grant
him an immediate dispensation, and encouraged him to
say “Alleluia” as much as he wanted during the Lenten
season.
That
did the trick. The Pentecostals stopped bothering him
but, lo and behold, the professor of liturgy of our
seminary became quite upset with my decision. (Of course,
I always say that it is easier to reason with a terrorist
but than with a liturgist.)
But
why--why do we Episcopalians and other Christians do
all of this inward reflection, and what about all the
abstinence and renunciation that tends to be encouraged
during Lent? Why abstain from meat on Fridays, Ash
Wednesday and Good Friday?
Why
all the penance and mortification of the season like
refraining from enjoying things like TV, sweets, smoking
or drinking?
And
what about the “Alleluias”: Page 364 of the Book of
Common Prayer has one of the several rubrics reminding
us to omit saying “Alleluia” during Lent. Why?
Today
we are gathered here for the traditional ashes of Ash
Wednesday, and during the next 40 days we attempt somehow
to connect spiritually in order to share with Jesus
in the desert; in some way we also participate in the
wandering of the Hebrews in the desert for forty years,
and become part of Noah’s floating in the ark for forty
days over the flood waters that had washed away sin
and sinners from the planet.
Today’s
ashes become a symbol that helps all of us to acknowledge
our finitude and the brevity of our lives.
Of
course, we don’t enjoy accepting the destiny and finitude
of humans as our certain reality. For many it is hard
to kneel in front of another person, even if vested
in clerical garb, and to be reminded aloud that we
are nothing but dust and that to dust we will all return.
But
we have to accept that regardless of how long we could
manage to delay the end of our earthly existence, it
is but our reality, it is our destiny.
Believe
me, we cannot escape it--even if you opt to deep-freeze
yourself, hoping for a solution to our finitude in
centuries to come. It’s
not a very good plan!
I
have noticed that one thing about us humans--we manage
to prefer to accept a mirage and make that mirage the
reality of our existence, living nothing but a make-
believe, hoping to soften what lies ahead instead of
the simple reality of our finitude.
And
there we go, planning our lives the way we want, imposing
our will on others--and even on God--thinking and hoping
that somehow destiny will make a mistake and skip the
time that will end our existence.
With
all the worldly chatter inside the mirage of our existences
it becomes hard to hear God’s voice. It is more enjoyable to pay attention to those
who encourage us to live in total bliss, just to care
for ourselves and turn our backs to the cries of a
suffering world, just to seek what is going to instantly gratify us, just to get
what we want, at all costs if necessary.
The
unreality of the mirage of our existence has no limits.
We are encouraged to gather as much as we can, the
more pleasure we could have the better we’ll be. Don’t
forget, the one with the most toys at the end wins!
But,
is it like this? I don’t think so. Thomas
Merton wrote about a kind of “dread” that gives us
a nagging sense that we have missed something important
or that we somehow have been untrue to ourselves.
How
can so many people end up being unhappy, having so
much? Maybe,
if we could only have a little more? Yes,
that’s it. If we manage to have more, then we would
be really happy! And there the cycle begins again,
and again, and again, ending our lives like the gerbil
on his wheel, never stopping, but getting nowhere.
But
here comes Lent, bringing with the ashes and its somber
purple color a reminder of penitence, a cry for us
to get off the wheel of emptiness that goes nowhere,
before it’s too late. Lent is calling us, suggesting to all of us
to look deep within our souls.
It
is like a cry to our spirit to stop being enslaved
by things, by mere pleasure, or by our bellies.
During
Lent we are reminded to tune our ears to the voice
of God, and to be willing to face the unchecked wanting
of our existence, our demands that we must have this
or that at all costs, regardless of the consequences.
During
these days to come we may use abstinence, reflection,
renunciation, meditation, introspection, mortification,
or the slowing down of our existence in a symbolic
way, maybe very small symbols that can help us to connect
to him who came for us, loved us, suffered for us.
During
this Lenten season, when we say “no”, we are given
the chance to better enjoy the “yes” of tomorrow. We
are given an opportunity to open our eyes to the falsehood
of the illusion of our mirage, and to realize that
there are others beside us in this world.
Our
possessions will begin to have their true value, not
as masters of our existence, but as things of secondary
value, which are there to serve us, not for us to serve
them.
We
are now encouraged to put aside the collection of things,
gadgets and foolish attachments that seem to have conquered
us, and also to be able to conquer the hypocrisy and
make believe that may be leading us.
Remember,
God is always there to accompany you and me as he accompanied
Jesus and helped him to resist temptation. He was there
accompanying the wandering Jews in the desert until
they entered the Promised Land, and accompanied Noah
in the ark during his aimless floating until he was
able to find hope again.
God
is always there for you and for me, helping us to discover
ourselves, to purify ourselves, to free ourselves..
He is always there to help us find our way.
And
then, after going through that pilgrimage of the desert,
then and only then, the “Alleluias” of Easter will
be more than enjoyable as we join the throngs of saints
in heaven and of earth shouting “Alleluia, Alleluia”,
knowing that we are indeed worshiping a living and
resurrected Lord.
Amen.
|
Why
Lent? 