A Word from Laura: An Invitation to Lent
Presbyterianshaven’t always observed Lent. It’s arelatively new thing, and we don’t always know what to do with a season thatinvites us to face the reality of death. Many of you know about the tragic act of violence outside our churchdoor that resulted in the death of Kevin Chamberlain, a member of the FoggyBottom community who was experiencing homelessness at the time.
In all the years that we have hosted Miriam’s Kitchen here,this was the first such incident literally at our door. That someone who sought solace in this placeof life and peace should die violently is heartbreaking – a new level of traumaand tragedy for the staff here – of Miriam’s Kitchen and the church. It felt like a violation of all of us, atsome level.
But through it, we have had moments of grace. The first forme came that very evening, that our siblings in Christ on the session atNorthminster were praying – for Kevin, for us, for all involved. Others came asall kinds of folks – Miriam’s guests and staff, church members and staff,people in the community who simply felt like they should show up – joinedtogether singing. One of the guests,Leroy, shared how thankful he was – for the service, for Kevin, for Miriam’sKitchen. Another guest said he wasdetermined to praise God through it all.
Other moments of grace have been more subtle, but no lessprofound. Two people have independently shared stories of losing the peopleclosest to them – one, the brother next in age to him, the one he couldn’timagine life without, dying suddenly; the other, losing the grandmother who hadraised her. Both of them shared how itchanged them and their experience of death. Not that they feel like it’s a goodthing, but that they found a deeper peace with death. That it is real. And it is a part of life.
They didn’t use these words, but I heard in them a deeperwisdom, the kind that comes when we experience that God does not leave us indeath. I heard a connection to the powerthat is available to each of us – God’s power – giving us the courage and thestrength to face our own death, or the death of those we love, or any of thetragedies we face.
For a long time in Presbyterian churches, Lent wasconsidered a Roman Catholic thing. (Fifteen years ago, I was new in a church inArlington, and found out that we observed Ash Wednesday for the first time inthe church’s over 100 year history!) Many Presbyterians still this service as asort of grim reflection on death.
But we Presbyterians are beginning to realize that AshWednesday and all of Lent – reflect that deeper spiritual wisdom at work here,the kind that can come in the face of tragedy and trauma, the kind thatempowers us to face the kinds of tragedy and trauma that Jesus endured himself,as he approached the cross. Let me be clear: this is not to resign us totragedy, but to empower us to be strong, based on the wisdom that:
Until we meet death, we canmiss out on the power of life;
Until we’ve spent some timepaying attention to the ways God chooses, we can fool ourselves into thinkingwe’re really great on our own – we don’t need God – or that we’re not so great,and any tragedy must mean that God is ignoring us;
Unless we’ve paid attentionto our own walks with God, the way Jesus encourages us to do in Matthew, we canfall into habits that break the way of life God intends for us in community.
Unless we come face to facewith the truth – about ourselves, about the world, about our own death, we missGod’s truth of life, of love, of justice, of peace - of the things this world cannot contain.
Sometimes I wish it were easier than all that. As a pastor, how often I want to take awayall the pain, all the injustice, all the grief. If I could go back to that day in January, unseasonably warm, and turnthe tide of what happened to Kevin, I would do it. But that work is not mine, not any of ours,to do.
Our work is to share these ashes, this reminder of our ownmortality, to remember that death is real, but also to open ourselves to apower that is more real. Our work is to grow in the deeper wisdom that Jesusinvites us to: in death, life.
And so I welcome you to Lent, this time of facing truths wedon’t always want to admit, of returning to God’s ways of love and justice, ofpraying and strengthening your own relationship with God, however you choose todo that. My hope is not that you willfind it depressing, but that you will discover the power at work in you that isgreater than your own, that you will be empowered to face the tragedies andtraumas that may fill your life, but that certainly fill our city and ourworld. That in facing death, you will find new opportunities for life, withGod, with your community, with all creation. May it be so. Amen.