The texts from the Roman Catholic Lectionary, today, Ash Wednesday, brought to mind Terence Mann, portrayed by James Earl Jones, in the movie Field Of Dreams speaking to Ray Kinsella, played by Kevin Costner, "For it's money they have and peace they lack."
Peace by walking
The reading from the Prophet Joel urges the post Exile people in Jerusalem to return to the Lord with all their heart.
* [2:18] Jealous: the Hebrew word describes the passionate empathetic bond the Lord has with Israel. The people’s wholehearted participation in Joel’s call for fasting and prayer sparks the Lord’s longing to protect and love his people Israel. This desire moves him to withhold punishment and to send the blessing of v. 14 instead.1
Psalm 51 is a prayer for cleansing and pardon.
* [Psalm 51] A lament, the most famous of the seven Penitential Psalms, prays for the removal of the personal and social disorders that sin has brought. The poem has two parts of approximately equal length: Ps 51:3–10 and Ps 51:11–19, and a conclusion in Ps 51:20–21. The two parts interlock by repetition of “blot out” in the first verse of each section (Ps 51:3, 11), of “wash (away)” just after the first verse of each section (Ps 51:4) and just before the last verse (Ps 51:9) of the first section, and of “heart,” “God,” and “spirit” in Ps 51:12, 19. The first part (Ps 51:3–10) asks deliverance from sin, not just a past act but its emotional, physical, and social consequences. The second part (Ps 51:11–19) seeks something more profound than wiping the slate clean: nearness to God, living by the spirit of God (Ps 51:12–13), like the relation between God and people described in Jer 31:33–34. Nearness to God brings joy and the authority to teach sinners (Ps 51:15–16). Such proclamation is better than offering sacrifice (Ps 51:17–19). The last two verses express the hope that God’s good will toward those who are cleansed and contrite will prompt him to look favorably on the acts of worship offered in the Jerusalem Temple (Ps 51:19 [20–21]).2
The reading from Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians urges the community to be reconciled to God.
* [5:21] This is a statement of God’s purpose, expressed paradoxically in terms of sharing and exchange of attributes. As Christ became our righteousness (1 Cor 1:30), we become God’s righteousness (cf. 2 Cor 5:14–15).3
In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus teaches concerning almsgiving, prayer, and fasting.
* [6:1–18] The sermon continues with a warning against doing good in order to be seen and gives three examples, almsgiving (Mt 6:2–4), prayer (Mt 6:5–15), and fasting (Mt 6:16–18). In each, the conduct of the hypocrites (Mt 6:2) is contrasted with that demanded of the disciples. The sayings about reward found here and elsewhere (Mt 5:12, 46; 10:41–42) show that this is a genuine element of Christian moral exhortation. Possibly to underline the difference between the Christian idea of reward and that of the hypocrites, the evangelist uses two different Greek verbs to express the rewarding of the disciples and that of the hypocrites; in the latter case it is the verb apechō, a commercial term for giving a receipt for what has been paid in full (Mt 6:2, 5, 16).4
Molly Mattingly observes that this Ash Wednesday we are invited to reflect on how God reveals Godself in solitude and in small, almost hidden ways. She asks how we would like to start again this Lent and how we would like to practice turning towards God in our daily life and relationships?
All that is to say that if your parish sprinkles rather than crosses the ashes this year, it may be an invitation to think about the hidden ways we pray and the public ways we live out our faith. Much of what was considered private or personal has become public in the last year, like the space of our home that’s behind us in a video conference, or the other members of our household who come into the frame. Much more of what was once public has become more private in the last year: lunches during the workday, liturgies now livestreamed in the living room, conferences becoming webinars, gatherings of friends becoming one-on-one phone calls or walks outside, choir rehearsals becoming individual singalongs with practice tracks and accompaniment recordings. We have all become more acquainted with solitude, and perhaps with some of the ways we need to personally practice turning towards God and asking for mercy.5
Nicholas Austin SJ, who teaches Ethics at Heythrop College, University of London, explores how our attempts at an ascetic way of life for forty days each year can go wrong if our motivations are not rooted in the wisdom of the Christian tradition.
And so I think this Lent is an invitation for us to be led by the Holy Spirit into the desert, to accompany our Lord as he withdraws into a lonely place. This Lent is a time for us to unplug a little bit, to cultivate that interiority, to use an old-fashioned but valuable word. Above all, this Lent is a time for us not to be afraid of choosing to be alone, but to trust that, even in our loneliness, indeed especially there, the Spirit of Jesus is with us, drawing us to the Father.6
Don Schwager quotes “Lent - the epitome of our whole life,” by Saint Augustine of Hippo, 354-430 AD.
"Christians must always live in this way, without any wish to come down from their cross - otherwise they will sink beneath the world's mire. But if we have to do so all our lives, we must make an even greater effort during the days of Lent. It is not a simple matter of living through forty days. Lent is the epitome of our whole life." (excerpt from Sermon 205, 1)7
The Word Among Us Meditation on Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18 suggests that like any boot camp, Lent can seem long and hard. Even minor sacrifices can wear us down over time. Know that God will graciously “repay” us—with his presence, with his love, and with his grace.
Let’s start with prayer. God wants you to experience his goodness this Lent, and that happens primarily as you spend time with him in prayer. So try attending daily Mass, Adoration, or a retreat this Lent. Read a new spiritual book or pray through one of the Gospels during the next six weeks. Try to carve out this time to open yourself to God so that he can reveal himself to you. Fasting can be difficult, but when you fast, you make room for God. Every time you stop yourself from reaching for that dessert, you are emptying yourself of your desires and asking God to fill you up. Every time you take off an evening from your screens, you are giving him the opportunity to speak to you. And what about almsgiving? Not only does it bring you closer to people in need; it teaches you detachment. The more you can detach yourself from your material possessions to bless other people, the more you discover that you were made for God. You realize that your life and your happiness don’t depend on the things money can buy.8
Friar Jude Winkler comments that both Joel and the texts from Trito-Isaiah urge the returning exiles to turn from sinful ways. The Letters of Paul to the Corinthians seek personal reconciliation with the community. Friar Jude reminds us that the rabbinic teaching often was about motivation and not literal text.
Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, comments that Christians often use the season of Lent to reconnect with God and the fullness of our own humanity—the good and the bad—in some intentional way. He has found that some form of contemplative practice, reflection, or commitment is a wonderful way to draw closer to God during this time. The world insists that we are what we do and achieve, but contemplation invites us to practice under-doing and under-achieving, and reminds us of the simple grace and humility of being human. He offers this description from Barbara Holmes about her own nature-based contemplative practice.
One of the ways I practice contemplation in my life is through fishing. It’s the space and the place where I find a real connection through the ocean, the waves, the sound of the water, the birds diving, and the struggle with the adversary, which is the fish. Now, normally we throw them back, but on occasion we bless them for giving us nurture and nourishment and we keep them.9
Fr. Richard supposes the equivalent of Barbara’s fishing in his life would be walking his dog. It really can be a contemplative practice where we engage with God, with nature, and with our own beloved fur friend. The peace we desire may come closer through our contemplative practice of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.
References
No comments:
Post a Comment