Lenten Meditations
2005
In the past, Trinity has purchased Lenten
meditation booklets for distribution to the parish. Mother Laura suggested that this year we
collect and publish our own meditations using parishioners of the Trinity
congregation as authors. Invitations
were sent out and the results are in.
Each week, we will publish meditations using our Sunday bulletin for
distribution.
Ash Wednesday
This
first day of the season of Lent is the day that sets the theme. Lent is not a time where we are called to
give things up simply for the sake of giving things up and out of a fuzzy wish
of self-denial. It is a time when we are
asked to honestly examine our lives and discern what is keeping us from knowing
and following God. And having made that
discernment, we are invited to begin the process of shedding our impediments.
As
Wednesday’s single most evocative moment is when we come forward to the altar
rail and have ashes placed on our foreheads.
We hear the words “Dust thou art, and to dust thou shall return.” It is one of the most brutally honest moments
of the Church Year. We are dust, we are creatures and we did not
make ourselves. We are mortals. We had a beginning and we shall have an end;
both of which are in God’s hands. They
are not in our hands, no matter how much we might like to try to convince
ourselves otherwise.
Starting with that honest appraisal of who and what we are, we can begin our Lenten journey by looking with the same dispassionate honesty at the rest of our life. What am I? What am I becoming? Is this what I believe God would have me do? If it is, what shall I do to hasten the fulfillment of God’s will for me? If it isn’t, what must I do to get myself back on track?
Take
some time this day to look with honesty at the whole of your present life. Start just by looking. Look hard though. Once you have seen, then you can begin the
next steps of planning what to do.
Father Nick Knisely, Rector of Trinity Episcopal Church,
Psalm 63:1-13
Where to begin with Psalm
63? This Psalm in particular has been
close to my heart for quite some time.
I’ve digested it line for line, reflected on its words, and have felt a
profound sense of peace in my soul after reading it each time.
“I will exalt you, O LORD, because you have lifted me
up and have not let my enemies’ triumph over me.”
I imagine for some, this
first passage can be taken literally, or for some of us, an ’enemy’ or
‘enemies’ can be anything negative in our lives that we have encountered. The beauty of these words is their
simplicity. Can there be any one person
on this wonderful planet that has not had a negative experience occur, be it a
trauma of some type or the occasional negatives we encounter in our daily
lives? If we keep these words in mind
while encountering the negative or reflecting on past experiences, it will lift
us up, because the Love of our Lord will far outweigh anything, and help us
through the hard time.
“Then you hid your face and I was filled with fear.”
How many times have we felt
alone? For some reason things seem to
come in waves. One bad thing seems to
happen after another. People will tell
you, “Things come in three’s. You have
two down, only one to go!” They tell you
this because we have all experienced it and I think it is meant to cheer us
up. Maybe our friends are protecting us
and preparing us for, perhaps, another bad experience. While feeling alone, picture yourself
lost. Not lost in the manner we’re used
to where you can stop someone and ask for directions. I mean really lost, in the most brilliant
white you can ever imagine. It envelops
your entire body; it swathes you in light.
It gives you joy. It’s warm and
soft, and goes into your being, every cell, every muscle, and every hair. The joy you feel makes you want to weep. This feeling you have is Love. It is so powerful you can touch it.
You realize it is
encapsulating you. You have no pain, no
worries, no fear; you only have an inner peace that is indescribable.
“You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have
put off my sack-cloth and clothed me with joy.”
Now stop for a moment and
look around. You notice there are
thousands upon thousands of other souls with you. You can finally see where you are, and are
shocked and delighted all at the same time.
You are but a microcosm and have been lost in the fabric and embrace of
our Lord. He has been holding you all of
this time. He will never let you go.
“Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing, O
LORD my God, I will give you thanks for ever.”
Shelly Smith
1st Sunday in Lent
Whose Blindness? John 9:1-41
I keep thinking of the story from John’s Gospel about the man born blind
from birth. “He was born blind so that God’s
works might be revealed in him”,
John writes. That story used to bother
me. Imagine God making a baby blind so
that some time later Jesus might work a miracle!
But I came to realize its
point when I made it personally applicable.
“I myself was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in
me.” I was born with my own peculiar
blindness. That includes, for me, an
impatience that the Holy Spirit exposes as actually meaning, “I want what I
want and I want it right now!”
Like the man in John’s story
who Jesus heals with spit and dirt, Jesus is healing me in ways that are messy
and unwelcome, in illness and grief.
Just how this works I do not know.
One thing I do know, that whereas I was blind, now I see.
Lord, you know my blindness better than I do
myself. Grant, through your Spirit,
sight to my spirit so that I may reveal your love to others.
Marius Bressoud
A Child’s
Trust Proverbs 3:5
“Trust
in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight.”
“Can you tell me now?” the small girl wanted
to know. “I mean…did I make it?” Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites,
but this delicate, sweet child had captured my heart. It made my task doubly difficult.
“Becky,
this isn’t easy for me. You just have to
trust that I know what’s best for you.
Another year in fourth grade will allow you to sharpen the skills you
will need for future years.”
“The
kids will make fun of me, won’t they?” she asked, tears welling.
“They
might, but I promise that, in time, the pain you’re feeling now will pass.”
“It’s
OK,” responded the child. “I’m not mad
at you. I know you like me.”
It
wasn’t until her senior year in high school that I found my decision had been a
sound one. I received a letter from
Becky on her graduation day. “I owe you
a great deal,” she wrote, “and I will never forget you. You changed my life.”
In
reality, I had little to do with changing Becky’s life. By giving herself over to my decision,
painful as it was, she affirmed her trust in me. It was that that changed her life.
Will
we be armed with childlike trust when the “bad news messenger” comes to
call? Are we open to listening to God’s
voice telling us that the pain we feel will be mitigated by the passing of
time? His words are not a confirmation
that at some point we will have our way.
Rather, they are a promise that, if we turn ourselves over to the Jesus
who understands all pain, our lives will forever be changed.
Merciful Father, help us to find
you through all of the pain of this earth.
Send the Holy Spirit to deliver the gift of trust and understanding so
that we may rest in the warmth of your comforting arms.