Lent
![Image courtesy of Keith Vertanen [www.keithv.com]](cracked_mud_nimb_small_resized.jpg)
Lent
is a season for reflection and returning to God. Beginning on Ash
Wednesday, Lent extends for six weeks and ends in Holy Week, the
week before Easter. In some traditions, Lent ends on the eve of
Maundy Thursday, the Thursday before Easter. Other traditions
have Lent ending on the evening before Easter Sunday. During
Lent, some churches remain open on Fridays for prayer and
walking the Stations of the
Cross.
by Christine Hemp
Southerly gusts clocked up to fifty. Douglas firs like frenzied horses
charged through the dark and back again.
Inside, the fire crackled—wind drew heaven close, and we could feel
the horses’ breath. A blast slammed down the flu and the fire began
to smoke. Big billows—blue manes of stallion, of mare— filled
our living room. We cracked the windows. Air! we said, Air!
No relief. Ash settled on the couch, the lamp, the clock. We choked,
trying to clear the room when another puff rose
above the mantle, over the urns, the stone shelf. I closed all
the open books, their pages fluttering and turning fast.
This has to stop, I said, then coughed and swatted the thickening
air, as if to scare the horses back the way they’d come.
© 2010 Christine Hemp
by William Maxwell
Remember
that you are made of dust
and you will return to dust.
Remember too
that we are made in the image of God -
male and female,
old and young,
white and all persons of color
and geniuses
and people with attention deficit disorder.
It’s a strange and confusing combination,
this dustiness
and this freedom to love
and to be selfish
and to be afraid
and to know hope
and joy
and wonder.
I don’t need to know all the answers,
but I’d appreciate help remembering
that the Cross and the Resurrection
add a new dimension
and a new promise.
I remember this:
When we “Do this” in remembrance of Him
the dustiness
and God’s image
and my history
walk together,
led by His hand into life.
My life.
It’s a strange business,
this combining of
dust
and
glory.
© 2010 William Maxwell
"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" by Margaret D. McGee
Delivered at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Port Townsend, WA, on Mar 9, 2011. more...
A Guest Homily: "Ashes, ashes, all fall down..." by the Reverend Elizabeth A. Bloch
Delivered at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Port Townsend, WA, on Feb 17, 2010. more...
Lenten Longing
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Longing for connection. Longing to be not alone. Longing for what makes life whole. Longing for love. Longing for God. |
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Return, O my soul, to your rest… Psalm 116: 7a |
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How could the soul not take flight When from the glorious Presence A soft call flows sweet as honey, comes right up to her And whispers, “Rise up now, come away.”
For the complete poem with haiku responses, go to Lectio + Haiku. |
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Luke 4: 1 - 4
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and
was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he
was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those
days, and when they were over, he was famished.
The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread. Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’ ”
Satan tempts the physically-starved Jesus to turn stones into
bread. In refusing, Jesus quotes a passage from Hebrew scripture
that goes on to say what does sustain life, “one does not live
by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of
God” (Deuteronomy 8:3b). The verse refers back to the
time the Hebrew people spent in the wilderness after fleeing
Egypt, completely dependent on acts of God for their most basic
needs.
For some reason, the story of Jesus being tempted to fill his
empty belly by turning stones into bread makes me think of times
I’m tempted fill my empty soul with comfort food for the body.
With chocolate, for example. Or alcohol, or sex.
Which can work just fine. When I’m lost in the shadows, a rich,
dark truffle might be just the thing to pull me back into the
light. And ‘making love’ can truly live up to its name under the
right circumstances (even, at times, under the wrong ones).
For me, the trouble starts somewhere in a long, slow,
nearly-imperceptible slide from intentional joy into mindless
habit, until finally I’m in a rut, feeding spiritual hunger with
stones instead of bread, not even aware anymore of a part of me
that’s starving to death.
Which makes me think of the many classic Lenten practices having
to do with habits – with breaking set rhythms in eating and
drinking, shaking one’s body out of its ruts to stand up on the
high plain again, see the wide horizon, feel the wind blow, take
a step on a new path.
What I Did for Lent in 2007
In February 2007, I was awash—at times near drowning—in work
with text, text, and more text. So for my Lenten practice that
year, I decided not to take on any additional study. Instead, I
cleaned out my refrigerator, took regular walks, and kept my
eyes open during walks for interesting natural objects to pick
up and bring home. After Lent, I shared some of those objects
here in the courtyard – in a non-textual way! You can see the
results on the Easter page.
“Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart…”
Joel 2:12a
These Prayers of the People were first used at Sunday services on 24 February 2008 (the 3rd Sunday of Lent) at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Port Townsend, Washington. They were written by Brad Offutt.
Readings for the 3rd Sunday of Lent. .
God of every time and place, help all who in their journey,
step
by step, come to worship you in spirit and in truth. (Leader's words in plain text.)
God of the Church,
Be our Guide. (People's responses in bold italic.)
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While in every land your faithful try, often in frustration and
dismay, to do the business of living together at all levels, may
we turn first to you.
God of all nations,
Be our Help.
As with Moses’ rod and Jacob’s well, you have put your
creation’s abundance in our hands. Show us how to use it well.
God of this earth,
Be our Mentor.
Here in our beloved home, dear Lord, help us simply, in
different ways, to tell others what you have shown us.
God of this place,
Be our Voice.
Lord, you suffered as we do, and infinitely more. To each who
suffers, grant anticipation in your healing love.
God of suffering,
Be our Hope.
Father, your Son conquered death once for all. Bring those who
have died into your peace, and bring us too when it is time.
God of immortality,
Be our Life.
Loving and patient God, you have forgiven your people down the
ages, even when they have quarreled with you. Through your Son,
you have given us certain hope. Be our companion each step of
the way as we sweep aside the extraneous and, with the Holy
Spirit and in truth, prepare to celebrate his Resurrection.
Amen.
Prayers and Blessings for the Stumbling Path
On February 6, 2010, I met with five other women at
St. Placid
Priory in Lacey, Washington, for a retreat called “Stumbling
Toward God.” At the close of the day, we joined together in a
brief worship service, each of us offering a prayer or blessing
for our time together.
Here are our prayers and blessings, offered to you now for your
Lenten journey.
May God bless our feet as we stumble. May God bless our eyes with light to see the way. May God bless our hearts with gratitude for the path. May God bless our feet as we stumble. May we bless God with our courage to journey. -- Chrysty, Renton Lord, thank you that as we stumble toward you, you meet us more than halfway. Thank you that as much as we desire to know you, you desire to be known. Thank you for the times of insight and clarity and for the times of confusion and doubt. You speak to us through both. Thank you for giving us this time to stop our business and enter into quiet sharing. -- Sharon, Packwood Thank you for the gifts of this day. For meeting these women on courageous journeys, which gives me the courage to feel that this experience can be a beginning, that I may find my path in spite of fear and hesitancy and move closer to connection with others and relationship with you. I pray for your patience. Amen. -- Jennie, Olympia |
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Today I believe you have shown me that stopping to reflect on who are you, stopping to acknowledge your presence in my life, and stopping to re-energize really allows your grace to work inside and outside of self. -- Kim, Packwood Thank you, Spirit of Love, for this day of words, tears, and muffins. Bless ____(*) for her humor which she has been given in exchange for a fearful childhood. Bless _____ for loving a little boy in her class and therefore changing his life. Bless _____ for loving her community, through thick and thin. Bless _____ for making music, as necessary for life as bread. Bless me in the ways only you know I need. (Like forgiveness.) Bless Margaret for bringing us together in this peaceful, holy place, then stirring us up so that we can use our dark places to make light. -- Barbara, Olympia (*) Barbara wrote a blessing for each woman at the retreat, drawing from all we shared in our time together. For privacy’s sake, I deleted names in the posting… then realized that when I look over her list of blessings, I can fill in each blank with the name of someone I know well—a friend, family member, or neighbor. Maybe you can do the same. |
Icon image for Lent courtesy of Keith Vertanen