Lent

After 4 quiet months (and a terribly disappointing end to the NFL season), newly priested and growing into a new role in our faith community, the first thing I have to say to you is this:

Lent scares the bejeezus out of me.

We talked a bit about this @ our Community Group on Thursday night, when I somewhat inartfully used the lyrics to "Transcontinental" as a springboard to get us thinking critically about Lent, what it means, what we really think we're doing by mortifying our flesh, the nature of sin and sanctification, etc. The most poignant response of the night was probably from DM who said: "You really think about sin a lot, don't you?"

Why, yes. Yes, I do.

It's hard to say what scares me about Lent, though. I certainly didn't explain it too well on Thursday. But today I read this from George Herbert's poem "Lent" (p. 84 in The Complete English Works):

Besides the cleanness of sweet abstinence,
Quick thoughts and motions at a small expense,
A face not fearing light:
Whereas in fulness there are sluttish fumes,
Sour exhalations, and dishonest rheums,
Revenging the delight.

In short, the third line doesn't describe me @ all. A face not fearing light? My face, which happens to be attached to my body, positively recoils from true Light, like Daniel Plainview exhorting "Just give me the blood, Eli, and let me get out of here. Give me the blood, Lord, and let me get away!" I'm not sure what I would even be without my particular sins, and I'm loath to let God cut them away. I'll take some salvation, please, but easy on the sanctification, thank you very much. I'm not proud of that; it's just the way it is.