Ash Wednesday 2016: Seeing Ourselves in the Story

Tags

Adam Hamilton, Ash Wednesday, Lent, Psalms

Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Oh, give me back my joy again;
you have broken me—
now let me rejoice.
Don’t keep looking at my sins.
Remove the stain of my guilt.
Create in me a clean heart, O God.
Renew a loyal spirit within me. (Psalm 51: 7-10 NLT)

I read a quote about Ash Wednesday recently, and although I don’t remember it exactly, it kind of stuck with me.  The quote was from a Roman Catholic bishop who said “We don’t take the ashes on our forehead to mark us as holy, we take them to remind ourselves that we are a community of sinners.”

That’s a great quote.  Where I live, in Utah, it’s easy to feel “special” or unique on Ash Wednesday.  Most of the population here belongs to a different faith, and sporting a cross of ashes on one’s forehead is a pretty surefire way to get some weird looks. After our Ash Wednesday service, many people from our large Methodist church go to a local restaurant for dessert, and we’re often joined by some folks from one of the local Catholic churches. It can be a bit of a shock for other folks who are there, and if you’re not careful, you kind of bask in the “look at me, look how holy I am” attitude.  Yuck.

But that’s really not the idea behind Ash Wednesday at all.  It’s not about slapping some ashes on your forehead and being PROUD of it.  It should be the exact opposite, actually. We are sinners.  We constantly fall short of God’s expectations of us, and this is a time to remind ourselves, and our community, of that very real fact.

For my Lenten devotions this year I’ll be doing Adam Hamilton’s “24 Hours That Changed the World Devotional” focused on the last 24 hours of Christ’s life.  In the book that accompanies the devotionals, Hamilton constantly urges us to see ourselves in the story in the roles of different people: Peter, Judas, John, Pilate, Barabbas, and even the Roman soldiers who tortured and mocked Jesus.

That’s right, even the Roman Soldiers.

That sounds a little extreme though, doesn’t it?  Picture those guards beating Jesus with a whip, probably a whip with multiple lashes embedded with metal, bone, or stone shards that not only bruised but tore flesh from the victim. Imagine hitting him in the face, or placing the crown of thorns upon his head. This man who was meek, loving, and gentle, who never hurt anyone and who healed many, and you’re just going to town on him.

You couldn’t do that, right?  I couldn’t do that, right?

I don’t know, perhaps we should consider that for a moment.  Look at how many people turned out in droves yesterday to vote for Donald Trump, a man who is unabashedly sexist, racist, and utterly hostile to anyone who disagrees with his extreme positions.  Exit polling data showed that 66 percent of Republicans who voted in the New Hampshire primary were in favor of banning Muslims from entering the United States. Seriously, 66 percent! People have been openly mocked and some beaten at Trump rallies.

Think about the Nazis.  Do you really think that each and every one of them was evil to the core?  What about the guards at places like Auschwitz?  Were they born hating Jews and wanting to kill them, was that bred into them?  Of course not, yet they were capable, and the truth is that we are all capable of doing some pretty bad things given the proper circumstances.

That is something we have to come to grips with, both during Lent and throughout the year as well.  We definitely believe in God’s mercy and grace, but that shouldn’t be an excuse for not examining ourselves, our nature, and our shortcomings.  Most of us probably treat someone poorly or at least unfairly everyday, even if we don’t quite realize it. Here’s what Adam Hamilton has to say about it on page 86 of “24 Hours That Changed the World:”

Ordinary people can be persuaded to do extraordinary and awful things.  Given the right combination of ideology, authority, and gradual desensitization, all of us can become monsters, capable of destroying others with weapons ranging from words to gas chambers. It is a reality we must face and guard against, looking instead to God and trying to understand who He has called us to be.

That’s part of what Ash Wednesday and Lent is about, reminding ourselves that we are sinners, and that we are capable of doing some very evil things.  Through examination and the grace and power of Christ, we can guard against that and hopefully set ourselves on the path to more fully realizing God’s deepest dreams and desires for us as his people, called by His Name.

So maybe you won’t go take the ashes today, but even if you don’t, try to see yourself in the role of the Roman Guards, of Judas, of Pilate and think about how you act in the world around you.

What should you do differently? What habits need to be changed?  What is hiding in the deepest, darkest part of your soul? Lent invites us to let the light of Christ shine in and help us examine and better ourselves, if we just let it.

May you have a blessed and fruitful Lenten observance, and may the peace of Christ dwell with you all.

Chanting The Psalms In The Great Outdoors

Tags

Music, Outdoors, Psalms

Let the heavens be glad, and the earth rejoice!
Let the sea and everything in it shout his praise!
Let the fields and their crops burst out with joy!
Let the trees of the forest sing for joy
before the Lord, for he is coming! (Psalm 96: 11-13a NLT)

This last weekend my family and I, along with some good friends, took a trip to our family cabin on the north slope of the Uinta Mountains of eastern Utah.  My grandparents built the cabin after they moved here from Ohio in the 1960s.  My grandfather, Ed Moore, was infatuated, perhaps obsessed with the American West.  Part of his dream was to have a cabin in the mountains for him and his family to enjoy.  He passed many years ago, but left this wonderful legacy to his kids and grandkids.

Our trip last weekend served two purposes: first of course was recreation.  My dad and I went fishing (which is cool because it was Father’s Day weekend) and managed to catch 8 fish.  Quite the success if I say so myself!  There was also work to do though.  Four large pine trees had blown over onto the roof of the cabin during the winter, and they needed to be removed.  Saturday afternoon dad, myself, and family friend Mark Miller got to work and managed to remove all of the trees, as well as two more still standing but dead trees that might have posed a future risk to the cabin.  We chopped them up too!  Dad and Mark even let me use a chainsaw, which makes me think that they didn’t know me as well as they should…..

But I digress.

All of the fishing and the working was done by Sunday morning.  We weren’t going to be at church, but I had a little voice that kept suggesting something that I could do on Sunday morning that would be fitting worship to the Creator while being alive in his marvelous creation.

A little after 9 o’clock in the morning I grabbed my Bible and walked from the cabin into the meadow behind it. The picture above was taken on the edge of that meadow just before I started. I walked to the back of the area, where I knew I would be alone with God, and opened up to Psalm 19. Check out verses 1-5:

The heavens proclaim the glory of God.
The skies display his craftsmanship.
Day after day they continue to speak;
night after night they make him known.
They speak without a sound or word;
their voice is never heard.
Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,
and their words to all the world.
God has made a home in the heavens for the sun.
It bursts forth like a radiant bridegroom after his wedding.
It rejoices like a great athlete eager to run the race.

These seemed like fitting words to inaugurate the beautiful morning breaking forth around me.  However, I didn’t read them, I chanted them.

You see, from 1995-2001 I was privileged to be the cantor at St Joseph’s Catholic Church in Ogden.  It required more than being a good singer, I also had to learn the little melody that the clergy and musicians use when they free chant a reading or a prayer.  Recently during Lent, I tried to do this again–to chant a Psalm–to enhance my meditation.  Specifically I used Psalm 22.

Last Sunday morning my voice joined with the birds of the air and the beasts of the field in praising God. After Psalm 19, I remembered another Psalm that seemed appropriate: Psalm 96.  The first 6 verses struck me and drilled straight into my spirit as the words flowed from my mouth:

Sing a new song to the Lord!
Let the whole earth sing to the Lord!
Sing to the Lord; praise his name.
Each day proclaim the good news that he saves.
Publish his glorious deeds among the nations.
Tell everyone about the amazing things he does.
Great is the Lord! He is most worthy of praise!
He is to be feared above all gods.
The gods of other nations are mere idols,
but the Lord made the heavens!
Honor and majesty surround him;
strength and beauty fill his sanctuary.

I was truly singing a new song.  My life has changed so dramatically over the past year, and it’s thanks to the love, forgiveness, and grace of God that I “rediscovered for the first time.”  In years past, my anger prevented me from chanting Psalms. In years past, I was so caught up in an unhealthy relationship that I was paralyzed to the extent that I could not enjoy a weekend at the cabin with family and friends.

The grace and love of Jesus set me free from that anger, from that fear, and I couldn’t be more thankful.

As the final words of Psalm 96 issued from my lips and rang out in the morning air, I felt a breeze, just a little wind.  Perhaps it was just that, a little breeze, but I like to think it was something more.  I think it was the Spirit of the Creator moving around me for just a minute, accepting and taking delight in my worship on that otherwise still morning.

Then I fell into silence in the presence of the Living God.

A Psalm for Today, Of All the Days.

Tags

Despair, Psalms

“He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters” (Psalm 23:2 KJV)

I can’t really bring myself to talk about what happened in my life today.  In fact it may take awhile.  In these times,  I try to find comfort in these words:

The Lord is my shepherd;
I have all that I need.

He lets me rest in green meadows;
he leads me beside peaceful streams.

He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
bringing honor to his name.

Even when I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will not be afraid,
for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff
protect and comfort me.

You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord
forever.

Be with me today, Lord.  Draw near to me.  I need it now more than I ever have.

Despair and Betrayal

Tags

Despair, Faith, Psalms, Reflections

About this time yesterday I was plunged into a pretty dark place. I’m not going to get into a lot of specifics, but it was a pretty major setback in my professional life.  After finding out that people had been going out of their way to keep it from me for weeks, I was then told that I need to be more willing to go out of my way to exalt myself and throw people who are under me under the bus if I want to get ahead.

I felt devastated.  The fact that some people that I count as friends had gone to great lengths to conceal what was happening from me made me feel even worse, it made me feel that slash of betrayal.  It’s as if someone plunged a knife into my back, and when they removed it I felt only ice cold and dead.

I didn’t know what to say.  I went from crying to fits of blinding rage and back again in mere seconds.  It was a feeling of totally being cut loose from your anchor, of being unhinged.  I needed to lash out, I needed to know “why.”

Well the answers you get to that question never really satisfy, do they?

And I refuse to take credit for things I don’t do and throw the people that I’m responsible for under the bus.  If that’s a problem for others, so be it.  I would rather maintain my integrity than get ahead by stomping on the heads of others.

I’m strangely fortunate though, I realized.  Immediately I had friends and family, some from pretty far away, come alongside me to offer support and comfort.  Within minutes I had calls, texts, and tweets from the people I consider to be the most important people in my life expressing their sympathy and telling me to keep my head up.

That was comforting last night when I was in the immediate moment, but as I sat early this morning and did my Lenten discipline and prayed, God really laid it on my heart. I may have had a couple of friends that betrayed me, but I have so many more to be with me and help me heal the wounds.  I am so thankful for that.

I also have my faith.  I must admit, in the past I would turn and rage at God in a moment like this, but I didn’t feel like that this time.  Instead, as morning turned to afternoon today, I really began to feel a presence. The presence of a man who was also betrayed by his friends, of a spirit who is able to kindle a new fire within me and turn despair and setbacks into experience and growth.

Not that it’s going to be easy.  Not that it makes everything ok.  Not that it makes it hurt any less.  But maybe, just maybe the pain is temporary.  Just maybe a new door will be opened where one has been closed.

I have to trust.  I have to believe that there is something better on the way and try to make it happen. To know that I have my family, friends, and faith on my side will help me move on.

One step at a time.

This, Psalm 130, has been on my mind today.  Here is the Psalm itself, followed by a song based on it that I really love.

From the depths of despair, O Lord,
I call for your help.
Hear my cry, O Lord.
Pay attention to my prayer.
Lord, if you kept a record of our sins,
who, O Lord, could ever survive?
But you offer forgiveness,
that we might learn to fear you.
I am counting on the Lord;
yes, I am counting on him.
I have put my hope in his word.
I long for the Lord
more than sentries long for the dawn,
yes, more than sentries long for the dawn.
O Israel, hope in the Lord;
for with the Lord there is unfailing love.
His redemption overflows.
He himself will redeem Israel
from every kind of sin.  (Psalm 130 NLT)