Lent and Trust

Many of us are on the annual Lenten journey of prayer, fasting and interior examination. This time offers the church opportunity to regain sight of and grow into the identity handed us at baptism. More specifically as individuals and as a community we intentionally deconstruct the postures and images of ourselves that we hide behind (acceptable illusions for thriving in a world of acquisition) and humbly trade it all in for a cross.  We can’t very well have resurrection without dying first, can we?

            Learning to discern God’s voice from other competing voices can never be done well while obeying the rules of the busy and demanding world. For forty weekdays in our liturgical calendar we give up the noise that hinders our discipleship.

Forty days reminds us of the 40 days Jesus leaves the safety of life-as-usual for the wilderness of testing (Lk. 4:1-2) which itself points to Israel leaving Egypt’s empire of greed and anxiousness for 40 years in the wilderness (Ex. 12:31-33). In both instances we learn to let God feed us; we learn to trust God with our suffering as much as with our joy; we trust God to give a beginning where there was only “The End”. So it is in light of this that we should with fresh eyes read these two Lenten passages from Isaiah and Peter:

 “Shout...
    Hold nothing back—a trumpet-blast shout!
Tell my people what’s wrong with their lives,
    face my family Jacob with their sins!
They’re busy, busy, busy at worship,
    and love studying all about me.
To all appearances they’re a nation of right-living people—
    law-abiding, God-honoring.
They ask me, ‘What’s the right thing to do?’
    and love having me on their side.
But they also complain,
    ‘Why do we fast and you don’t look our way?
    Why do we humble ourselves and you don’t even notice?’

 “Well, here’s why:

“The bottom line on your ‘fast days’ is profit.
    You drive your employees much too hard.
You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.
    You fast, but you swing a mean fist.
The kind of fasting you do
    won’t get your prayers off the ground.
Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after:
    a day to show off humility?
To put on a pious long face
   and parade around solemnly in black?
Do you call that fasting,
    a fast day that I, God, would like?

 “This is the kind of fast day I’m after:
    to break the chains of injustice,
    get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
    free the oppressed,
    cancel debts.
What I’m interested in seeing you do is:
    sharing your food with the hungry,
    inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
    putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
    being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on,
    and your lives will turn around at once.
Your righteousness will pave your way.
    The God of glory will secure your passage.
Then when you pray, God will answer.
    You’ll call out for help and I’ll say, ‘Here I am.’

“If you get rid of unfair practices,
    quit blaming victims,
    quit gossiping about other people’s sins,
If you are generous with the hungry
    and start giving yourselves to the down-and-out,
Your lives will begin to glow in the darkness,
    your shadowed lives will be bathed in sunlight.
I will always show you where to go.
    I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places—
    firm muscles, strong bones.
You’ll be like a well-watered garden,
    a gurgling spring that never runs dry.
You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew,
    rebuild the foundations from out of your past.
You’ll be known as those who can fix anything,
    restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate,
    make the community livable again. (Isa. 58:1-12 MSG)

And!

“This is the kind of life you’ve been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so you would know that it could be done, and also know how to do it, step-by-step.

He never did one thing wrong,
Not once said anything amiss.

They called him every name in the book and he said nothing back. He suffered in silence, content to let God set things right. He used his servant body to carry our sins to the Cross so we could be rid of sin, free to live the right way. His wounds became your healing. You were lost sheep with no idea who you were or where you were going. Now you’re named and kept for good by the Shepherd of your souls.” (1 Peter 2:21-25 MSG)