We take a brief break from the serial story. Don’t worry, there’s more coming.
We move toward a season of slow meditation upon the Stations of the Cross, the consummation of mission through the pangs of suffering. Lent is coming.
Here, we encounter the broken Jesus, the reed bruised by the weight of our chastisement. We see the wick smoldering under the weight of an oxygen depleted midnight and we pause, breath held, as if afraid to suck away the hope of reignited life. We know how the story ends, but before we hear the sounds of the shredding veil, hope seems tenuous at best.
Lent is bathed in the holy water of tension: sovereignty pulling against the free will of man; Christ’s humility pulling against human ego; life pulling against death. To call the passion story simple is to remove nuance and richness. It is terribly complicated, eternally complex. It is not as simple as saying, “he could have called 10,000 angels.” Could he have? Really?
Join me this year in exploring the richness of Lent. Join me in the pause from doing. Break from asking “what is my mission,” so that we may contemplate the perfection of his, the suffering and hope in it. And as we find ourselves confounded by the complex beauty of life, death, and resurrection, may we be suspended in the question:
“Jesus, will you rise in me again this year?”
Lent comes March 9th. Will you prepare your heart with me?