With the first day of Spring occurring this past week, I thought of the word “Lent” meaning “Spring season.” People might associate Lent with fasting and abstinence, our religious observance has the very practical goal of improving our sense of identity, and becoming the best version of ourselves. As with the Spring season, so we, too, are growing anew (or trying our best to do so).
The 40 days set aside for this spiritual “retreat” is intended to remind us of Noah’s flood. When the deluge stopped, a new earth came to life and replaced the old with the new. This period is also intended to remind us of Goliath slaughtering Israelites for 40 days—until the shepherd boy, David, slew the great warrior. So it is with God’s help. We are able to face the Goliaths that threaten us. With God’s help, we are able to face any foe.
The Israelites wandered for 40 years looking for a land flowing with milk and honey. They spent time and energy, moaning and groaning—all the while seeking the “promised land”—losing their way, like we do at times, and wondering why they ever left slavery in Egypt. With these experiences in mind, we become the people of faith within these biblical stories—struggling to overcome threats and begin anew.
The season of Lent sees us trying to find meaning amidst the floods, Goliaths, and deserts of our life experience. We’re sometimes like our ancestors and believe that any bad experience we have is due to God “punishing” us for some wrong deed we did. We are like the people in the Gospel reading. 18 died because a tower fell on them and people thought this occurred because they or their relatives did something bad. They thought that God was getting even with these people. But Jesus told them that they died because the tower fell on them—NOT as a punishment from God.
Actions have consequences—yes. But God calls us to growth and new life. God is not vengeful. Maybe the builders just did a poor job of construction. Jesus pointed out that their “theology” was misguided—as was the thinking of our ancestors who thought that wealth was a sign of being “chosen” by God to go to heaven. Our colonial fathers and mothers were raised on a theology that associated wealth with heaven and one’s destination being hell if they were poor. Scholars have pointed out how this mindset held sway over our ancestors. On a less grand scale, and applicable to each of us is the spiritual task of evaluating our behavior during Lent, and seeing what behaviors and thoughts we need to put aside and which to cultivate.
I recall Bill Clinton’s adviser telling him what to focus on when speaking to the public, and the line he offered Clinton has become almost a proverb when running for public office. When discussing their strategy, his adviser said “It’s the economy, stupid!” And so that has been the North Star of electioneering. Address the economy and tell the public that you’ll put the people on “easy street”—unlike your opponent. An ad for Hoover in 1928 said there would be “a chicken in every pot” if he were elected. And this same pitch was given by Mr. Trump who promised to bring down the price of eggs the first day on the job. Well, neither the chicken nor the egg prophecies came about.
Just as Hoover folks rejoiced at the thought of getting a chicken, so did Trump’s voters who were no doubt inspired when he said “We’ll have so much money we won’t know how to spend it all.” Sometimes critiqued as nothing but a good used car salesman, it was not surprising for critics to say “I rest my case” when he came to the aid of the world’s richest man and encouraged people to buy Musk’s Tesla cars that were placed on the White House lawn (ignoring the law that said no Federal property can be used for private business). When the new Secretary of Commerce urged people to buy Tesla stock, Mr. Musk benefitted from yet another illegal and free-of-charge advertising.
Lent is a period calling us to reflect on what we’ve done with our lives. What would it say if we were to write our resumé—as if applying for a job, but instead it would be our resumé to enter heaven? Here’s what came to mind in my case.
Over the years, I was on numerous hiring committees—for positions on campus that sought someone for president, dean, faculty, coach, maintenance, janitor, campus minister, and every position that existed. As you might suspect, there were numerous applicants for each “job.” I was reminded of having this role when presidential candidates and then Administration leaders were paraded past us. I found that some candidates were easy to pitch when reading their credentials. With the University, we sought quality people who would represent the institution well and who would contribute to its mission. Those basic criteria should, of course, be the same for the new Administration in Washington. They were not.
As you know, one submits a resumé that highlights their many achievements. I thought of what mine would say and noted that some good accomplishments were listed. Surely God and he choirs of angels would applaud what I’ve done. And no sooner had that sin of pride raised its head that something forcefully struck me. Confessing here, I knew deep inside that I could not pull the wool over God’s eyes. Maybe the angels, but not God.
We both knew that while my resumé appeared decent, there were numerous times I could have seized the opportunity to do the “more” that lay before me. Instead, I took the path of least resistance and avoided involvement with numerous places where I could have made a difference. My Lenten reflection led me to “repentance”—not in the sense of beating up myself for where I’ve been remiss but in re-committing myself to discerning and doing the “more” that God calls me to do with my life.
Dear Lord, inspire me to bring a smile to those whose eyes I meet. May I have the strength to stand tall in the face of conflict and the courage to speak my voice, even when I’m scared.
I ask not for easier tasks but just enough talent to meet any tasks that come my way.
May I seek to know the highest truths and dismiss the pull of my lower self.
May I learn more profoundly why you created me, how to overcome darkness, and have the gospel wisdom To Choose generosity over selfishness. Today, I want to surrender anything that
Undermines the sacredness who you made me to be So drench me with a knowledge of your affection for me—a child, like you, born in the Bethlehem of my family.