A Daily Lent

Christ at the Center Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 28, 2020 The first understanding in Christian spirituality is that God is the center of life, the gravitational pull that holds all things in orbit. I am not the center. You are not the center. My family is not the center. My country is not the center. The coronavirus is not the center. The government is not the center. The Church is not the center. Our faith is not the center. The Bible is not the center. Only God is the center of life. To orbit around anything or anyone other than God is to place faith in false gods. Idolatry is the Old Testament word for it. Esther de Waal has some thoughts about Christ at the center of life. If I am to put Christ at the centre, as St. Benedict would have me to, that then displaces me from the centre. Perhaps I had not noticed how subtle that temptation was, that insidious danger of putting myself at the centre so that the emphasis was on me – me serving God, me tr...

The Subtle Temptation to Self-Fascination Friday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 27, 2020 In times of crisis, when the abnormal is the new normal, we can be tempted to look after our own self and those close to us, to the exclusion of “others.” Hoarding goods – so I have more than enough, whether you have enough or not – is simply one expression of the human desire to preserve self. I imagine we have all felt the urge to “look out for number one” as the coronavirus threat has grown. To be fully human means not to be invested solely in self-interest. The fully human life sees oneself in the context of the human family. We live in a web of relationships that reach much farther than we can see. We have responsibilities not just for ourselves and our near circle of relationships . . . we share responsibility for one another. These are Esther de Waal’s words: But these vows also carry an even greater significance. While they help me to be human they also at the same time p...

Listening As Openness and Willingness Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 26, 2020 Benedict of Nursia wrote a guide for persons who sought to live in community out of a common desire to orient life around God. That guide is called The Rule of Benedict. And the “vows” we have explored this week are all integral to Benedictine spirituality. The Benedictine vow of stability means that we stand still and attend to who we are in this moment. We intentionally nourish the soul, we tend to the fires of the inner life. We do not move at such a frantic pace that we cease to know ourselves. Be still. The vow of continual conversion means that we are always journeying on. God is continually forming us, shaping us as the people God created us to be. We continue to journey, to explore, and to make new discoveries, both in the outer world and in the our own inner world. We are still moving. The vow of obedience , as Esther de Waal describes it below, simply asks us to listen . . ....

God Is There All the Time Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 25, 2020 Sometimes events in the outer world press us to grow in ways that we had not anticipated. The current coronavirus pandemic is one example, it seems to me. Our outer circumstances are forcing us to make adjustments we likely would not have made in “normal life.” Sometimes, our ongoing transformation depends on circumstances that more or less push us into some kind of life-change. Continual conversion does not just happen to us. We hold onto things to which we have grown accustomed. We hesitate to let go of that which is comfortable. Surrender and detachment can be painful, even costly. We are pressed into shifting our life-stance. We have to be reminded moment by moment that our ongoing conversion is moving toward some larger end. God is making us the people we were created to be. We are being shaped according to the purpose for which we were originally created. So God comes to us in this work. God...

Continual Conversion of Life Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 24, 2020 In my religious upbringing, conversion was a one-time event. I made a decision for Christ, made that decision public at an altar call, and then coasted on. That was the conversion package. It took me years to understand that conversion was an ongoing action of God’s Spirit within me. I did not arrive fully formed in that altar-call moment. That night was simply a moment in which I was conscious of making a significant shift in my life’s direction. The real work of conversion lay ahead of me . . . and still does. This work is ongoing. The journey does not end. The contemplative says that standing still is important, being present to every moment of life. But moving onward is also crucial. If we stand still, we calcify. The contemplative holds together the dichotomy that we must stand still in order to know God and know ourselves. At the same time, we must journey on in order to bring mercy and compa...

Standing Still in the Present Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 23, 2020 Each of us has our own ways of running away from ourselves. We have our own patterns that distract us from seeing what is true and real about ourselves, God, others, and the world. But it seems to me that in these very different days, as we keep one eye focused on the coronavirus and another eye on our own altered daily routine, many of us find our usual patterns upset. We may not have our usual distractions available to us. I’ll confess that we’re only a few days into the social distancing and days apart from close contact with others . . . and already I’m finding myself out of sorts. It is easy enough to rehearse good days in the past . . . or to fantasize about what may or may not happen in the future. But I also realize that whenever we fixate on the past or the future, we immediately pull ourselves out of the present. It is a challenge to stand still in the present . . . to allow the present...

Facing Our Restlessness Sunday of the Fourth Week of Lent – March 22, 2020 Our current coronavirus-induced isolation has challenged us in many ways. Among the challenges, we are finding that when isolated from others, we have to befriend ourselves in new ways. We also find that our usual ways of being productive are disrupted. We may not think of ourselves as geared for productivity . . . until we are forced into a more passive, isolated stance for a few weeks or months. We begin to say things like, “I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing anything,” or “I need to find some projects to keep me busy,” or “I get bored so easily.” Especially in Western culture, we have internal wiring that equates personal worth with productivity. We assume that I am what I produce , that what I do defines me. Then, we are pressed into a situation in which our doing is more limited, and suddenly we find ourselves in a crisis of being. Who am I? Why am I here? These are huge questions, fundamental ...