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.

memento, homo, quia pulvis es . . .

et in pulverum reventerum.

on ash wednesday three years ago, i wrote:

you see, i've had some sins longer than i've had almost anything in my life except my parents. those are they whose talons are so deep into me that i can't imagine what my life would be like were i to ever get free of them. in an odd way, i wouldn't even be me if i didn't have them . . . . these are mine, by god, and i aim to keep them! therein lies the rub. that which i aim to keep, jesus died to take away, and his death is stronger than my twisted desires. so, in fits and starts, and sometimes quite painfully, i'm being healed, thanks to the skill of a friend, the love of other friends, the prayers of people i may not even know, the indefatigable love of a godly woman and the innocent hope in my daughter's eyes. i still say w/ paul that i am the least of the saints, the most sinful of men, but oh how the hunger for sanctification is growing! if and when i get there, i'll drop you a line.
now it's 2007, and i'm not "there" yet. but, by god's grace, i'm closer than i was. i still cherish my old secret sins, but i understand the gospel a little bit better which makes me less anxious about my sins while moving me toward the faintest glimmers of sanctity (on my good days). and i have a new community of friends standing beside me working out what membership in god's kingdom means for their own pet sins. it's comforting, this standing among sinners, and it moves me toward holiness in ways i could never muster alone.