Being the Beloved - A Monthly Blog from CFDM Northwest
By Gwen Shipley, Co-Director CFDM NW
“What if we view this desert of Lent as not just a time to reflect or to lament, or to confess or to fast, but a time where we learn to be free?” – Megan Westra
Cari*, my seventh-grade friend, was from a big and big-hearted Catholic family. She ate fish on Fridays and “gave up something for Lent.” Weird, I thought. Too bad she isn't a Christian. We don’t have to follow all those rules. (Ours were normal rules like “girls don’t wear pants or cut their hair” and “no watching Bonanza on Sunday nights”…) Later my friend, Diane*, also Catholic, did the same. Neither explained to my satisfaction the why behind the practice, so I dismissed it as an archaic custom for the uninitiated. (Click here for more on Lent.)
Curiosity about the origins and beauty of Christian traditions beyond my own, found me in the second half of life. I could hear Paul (Ephesians 4) telling me that the church in the world is Christ’s “body” not our brilliant enterprise, that each has something to contribute and much to learn from one another about what it means to experience the life of God--for ourselves and for the sake of others. I listened—mostly.
With time, I began to notice and name a subtle spiritual superiority. And I am being invited to give it up, not just for Lent, but for good. It masquerades under many guises but in me it tends to take on the character of the Paul/Apollos conundrum. “I am learning from this teacher or that, so that ‘I am taking the high road’,” implying, “and you are not.” If I’m not aware, I can become a new kind of Pharisee, well-meaning but destructive in my absence of humility.
The chains of self-righteousness do not loosen easily, and the journey continues this Lenten season with the invitation to move toward more freedom. Giving up pious arrogance in exchange for the gift of being fully human, encapsulates Lent in the sense that “giving up something” serves to set us free from the preoccupation with self, even the “right to be right.” It reminds us that every character in God's story shares in this one thing: “From dust you came and to dust you shall return.” (And then, of course, resurrection. But patience…we’ll get there!)
All of life holds within itself the gift of dying to something to know new life again, and again. Not just once in a physical life cycle, but in each present moment that we respond to the invitation. And certainly these past months have been rife with deaths, sadly many literal; just as many have been figurative—plans, jobs, routines, connections. There has been ample opportunity to notice and name the things, ideas, and people on which our identity and worth relies—even good things by which we can become ensnared. The Christ of Lent is at work always, already.
This Lent, as you encounter the experiences of our predecessors in faith, and with one another through CFDM and others’ offerings, may you grow in intimacy with the Christ of Lent. Perhaps that will include a 40-day practice, or a retreat, or another observance as it has for me. Or perhaps you will be open-handed with tradition, creating some other way to journey with Jesus on into Easter. Wherever you find yourself, may you notice, name, and move forward toward God’s invitation to freedom.
What books, media, activities are nurturing your heart, soul, mind, strength in this season as we are loving God and our neighbor as ourselves? Post in the comments below or hop on over to our Facebook page and share with one another.