Life in a Time Like This
AM Psalm 95 for the invitatory & 32, 143 • PM Psalm 102, 130
Amos 5:6-15 • Heb. 12:1-14 • Luke 18:9-14
As the season of Lent approaches this year, I find myself feeling more clinical about its observance. I’m thinking about what I can give up, and as a balance, what I can take up in its place, and how it will fit into my schedule and not make me feel too uncomfortable. After years of cycling through the seasons, even with something as dynamic and cherished as the liturgical year, it’s possible to come upon one of the holiest times of year, and be spiritually asleep for it, especially when life in this time can feel so wearying.
The scriptures and services for today, however, are like an alarm clock—a beeping that won’t go away, or something you can’t simply hit snooze on, and pull the covers over your head. The scriptures that usher in this season are an invocation to refuse complacency, and force us to turn our heads to some of the most urgent and pressing matters that demand our attention.
The prophet Amos shouts at us to hate evil; the writer of Hebrews exhorts us to lift our drooping hands and strengthen our weak knees; and Luke warns us to not think too highly of ourselves. The scriptures—Jesus—want to wake me up, and to not let apathy dictate the next 40 days of my lenten observance. That is because Lent, at its core, is about life—to dismantle injustice, to be active in looking to Christ, and to share the mercy we need with others as God shares it so freely with us. These things cultivate an abundant life. When the ashes are traced on to our foreheads to remind us of our mortality, and our eventual return to the dust that will be our rest, we should also remember that God breathed life into dust in the first place, and God breathes life into us again, and again, and again, to remind us that our fragile mortality is strengthened for spreading the good news of salvation in Christ, even in a time like this.
Written by Rev. Dr. Nathan John Haydon
Nathan earned his PhD in English studying medieval literature and languages from the University of Arkansas. He’s an Episcopal priest, Benedictine oblate, lover of cats and coffee, and a transplant from Fayetteville, Arkansas to St. Louis with his super smart scientist wife, Kathryn.