LISTENING FOR THE DEEPER, WISER VOICE, By Rev. F. Richard Garland

A Guest Column

By Rev. F. Richard Garland

I have a love/hate relationship with Lent. At its best it can foster a healthy self examination that leads to insight and new possibilities. At its worst it is a long, dark, weary slog through the ‘oughts and the shall nots’ of religion. I seldom go willingly into Lent.

Not long ago, I walked into a sanctuary and, there in the center aisle, I was greeted by a basin of water, behind which was a large mirror, upon which was written, “You are beloved.” It was the beginning of the season of Epiphany. In the bulletin there was offered an invitation for people to pause, touch the water, to remember their Baptism and be thankful. We were reminded that, as was Jesus at his Baptism, we are beloved of God. It is a stark contrast to the beginning of Lent when we are also reminded, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Both are true, and it got me to wondering if Epiphany has something to teach us in Lent. 

What if we spent the necessary time of Lenten introspection listening for the deeper, wiser voice that reminds us that we are beloved of God - a season of light teaching us how to cope with the dark.

In the creation story God says: “Let there be light.” The first voice of creation is the voice of life, overcoming the dark, formless void.

In John’s gospel the Word becomes flesh - a light that shines in the darkness. In Luke’s gospel at the baptism of Jesus there is a voice, “You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” In the Book of Revelation there is a voice from the throne: “The home of God is with mortals.” “I am making all things new.” These are the voices of life, of hope, of Love, of vision - the deeper, wiser voices that bring health and wholeness, physically and spiritually.

In our journey through Lent we are called to listen to these voices - voices that heal, nurture and build up. Otherwise, as Christine Valters Paintner warns: “When we continue to follow the judge or the inner critic, or any of the especially loud and vocal voices inside us, without recourse to the whole range of who we are, we can become depleted by self doubt and insecurity.”

So, where does one start? Where does one go to hear this deeper wiser voice? 

For people of faith there is no better place than the Book of Psalms. The Book of Psalms was Jesus’ prayer book. The Psalms have been the staple of worshiping people for millennia. The Psalms have been a source book for life from the very beginning. There is no dimension of life that the Psalms do not touch. Throughout the Psalms you will encounter the voice of God, in all of its depth and all of its wisdom. How does one start? By reading them of course! Preferably out loud. Why out loud? Because it slows one down. 

By the way, I found a wonderful website - www.mybibleplans.com - where you can set up your own reading plan and receive a daily email that includes the bible text for the day. Try it out - go to the site - click on Psalms - set the time frame [I would suggest 90 days] - and check the box for ‘send a daily email’ and voila! You have a reading plan!

The process of listening for the deeper wiser, voice is really quite simple:
+++ Read the Psalms out loud - make note and be open to the voice and words you hear.
+++ Pray: “O God, what are you trying to teach me through these words?”
+++ Reflect on where this deeper wisdom will lead you in your walk of faith. 

In his wonderful little book “Praying the Psalms,” Thomas Merton observes: “The Psalms establish us in God, they unite us to Him in Christ.” “The function of the Psalms is to reveal to us God as the ‘treasure’ whom we love because He has first loved us.” You are beloved!

Lent Is a Time to Reflect on What Matters Most

Jesus in the Wilderness

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 

Luke 4:1-2

If Lent were a candidate running for President of the United States or President of the ninth grade class, it would come in last. As the pollsters say, it has really high “unfavorables.” Nobody likes Lent. Some of us pretend to like it because we think we ought to, but no one really likes it. 

The observance of Lent among Christians is complicated at best and dysfunctional at worst. In Lent we tend to confirm the worst stereotypes of Christian behavior. We focus on small and petty things. Lent does not bring out the best in Christianity.

The Gospel reading for the First Sunday in Lent is always the temptation story. We read it from different Gospels depending on the Lectionary cycle, but the story is always the same. After Jesus is baptized by John, he is led into the wilderness for a time of reflection and contemplation. It is one of those rare occasions when the accounts in Matthew, Mark and Luke are nearly identical. 

There are two places where we tend to get stuck. The first is with “the devil.” We picture a mythical creature with horns and a tale. And some of us wonder how this can be “real.” Which totally misses the point. Temptation is about what happens inside of us and this was no different for Jesus. In his commentary, legendary scholar William Barclay points out that the struggle takes place within the mind of Jesus, but this does not make it any less real. 

The second place we tend to get stuck is on the last phrase of the second verse in Luke’s account. “He was famished.” And that leads us to the widespread Lenten practice of giving up something we like for Lent. Sometimes it’s chocolate or ice cream or all desserts. If that helps us to meditate on our faith journey then it’s a good thing, but my guess is that most of the time it just makes us grumpy. And grumpy Christians don’t make a very compelling witness.

All three accounts agree on a key detail: it is the Spirit that leads Jesus into the wilderness.

Jesus needed a time of preparation, introspection and contemplation. And we need that, too. It is good, between the hurry of the Christmas and New Year’s holidays and the busyness of the spring, that we pause and reflect. It is a good time to contemplate our fears and hopes for the future, and to remember the joys and sorrows of the past. And in all of that, to ask serious questions about life and faith. What is it that really matters? What do we really care about? How will we put our ideals and our faith into action?

If It’s March, then It Must Be Lent

My beloved speaks and says to me:
“Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away;
for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth;
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.
Song of Solomon 2:10-13

In his hymn to love and to spring, the writer of the Song of Solomon announces joyfully that the winter is past and the rain is over and gone.

Sadly, our winter is not past.

Easter is in April this year, as it most often is. And that is a good thing. Easter belongs in April. April has daffodils. And warm sunshine. And green grass. In this winter of  unending cold, we can’t wait for April and Easter.

In March, most of the time, the wind is still cold. The branches on the trees are bare. We gain more sunlight in March and in any other month, but it does not really warm up until it is nearly April.

This year especially, March is the time when we are almost ready to give up, and resign ourselves to endless winter. March is the time when we can hardly believe that spring is possible.

Lent is always in March. Lent belongs in March. The stark themes of repentance and suffering fit the landscape. Bleak and barren. A time of sharp contrasts. It is too cold to spend much time outside. But in the few days when the sun is warm and it feels like spring, it is a gift. Something unexpected.

I am not sure whether we really need another cold month, but we need Lent. We need some time to sing our songs in a minor key. We need reflection and the renewal that comes with it. I love that time in late April or early May, when in the space of a week the buds turn into leaves. I love it when the daffodils burst into bloom.

But the changes of March are largely unseen. Beneath the surface bulbs are turning into flowers. Without the unseen changes of March, the visible beauty of April and May would be impossible. Our spirits need that same time for unseen growth and change. In the cold darkness, God is at work. Frozen spirits are opening. New life begins.