The poem for this Sunday is a wonderful introduction to Lent.
Defect
The flaw is no more
noticeable, even to me,
than a new moth-hole
in my sweater, or
a very bald spot
on the fabric of
my velvet vest.Yet when
I hold the cloth
up to the window
the sunlight
bleeds through.~Luci Shaw
As you prayerfully consider Lent, pay close attention to these two pieces of sage advice from St. Jose Maria Escriva:
Choose mortifications that don’t mortify others.
A smile is often the best mortification.
And I urge you again to look first to those things that impede your knowledge of God’s incredible love for you. Perhaps your Lenten resolution should simply be to stand vulnerable in prayer before His love for five minutes a day or to read a Scripture verse that encourages you in the hope of His love.
Sanctity does not consist in this or that practice, it consists in a disposition of heart which makes us humble and little in the eyes of God, conscious of our weakness but boldly confident in his goodness as Father. (Therese)
Lent is coming. To be honest, my usual response to that thought is one of clutching inside. I suspect that is not the best response, and every year I keep working at coming to more of an understanding of what perhaps God’s mind is on this season rather than my limited understanding or skewed understanding. I, like most Catholics who grew up when I did, tend to approach Lent, I think, from the angle of what I need to give up for Lent. What I become convinced of more and more each year is that God’s priority for Lent is not that. His priority is that we grow in our relationship with Him. Period. The only things worth giving up are those that impede our relationship with Him. Read this by Fr. Peter John Cameron to start you thinking about perhaps a different Lenten approach:
Here’s what to give up this Lent: the doubt that goes, “I can never get closer to God because I’m too sinful, too flawed, too weak.” This is a lethal attitude, for it based on the false presumption that we can possess something of our own–that does not come from God–by which we can please God. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Only what is from God can please God. But as long as such error persists, we estrange ourselves from God. Lent is not about lamenting our inadequacy. Rather, it is a graced moment to receive from God what he is eager to give us so that we can live the friendship with him that he desires. . . .
“Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Mt 6.26)
You are of so much value . . .
Sorry that I haven’t posted in few days, but I’ve been down with bronchitis and an ear infection. Not to worry, I’m on the mend now. However, I’m just going to refer you to an old post. Some days, you just take the easy way out. 🙂 You can find it here: “More than Conquerors” Have a blessed Monday!
I’ve posted before about the difference between grumbling and lamenting. I just ran into another helpful delineation:
Lament is a cry of belief in a good God, a God who has His ear to our hearts, a God who transfigures the ugly into beauty. Complaint is the bitter howl of unbelief in any benevolent God in this moment, a distrust in the love-beat of the Father’s heart. (Ann Voskamp)
For more on this, see “Am I grumbling?” and “Are you still on the dance floor?”
A challenge from Peter Kreeft:
No one who ever said to God, “Thy will be done,” and meant it with his heart, ever failed to find joy–not just in heaven, or even down the road in the future in this world, but in this moment at every moment. Every other Christian who has ever lived has found exactly the same thing in his own experience. It is an experiment that has been performed over and over again billions of times, always with the same result.
Try it for yourself.
I just added a book to the “What I’m recommending at the moment” tab above. This is the second time I’m reading Philip Yancey’s What’s So Amazing About Grace. I have benefited from many of his books. This book is about forgiveness, full of stories and full of hope. A book that gently cuts you to the heart. Philip is never one to skirt around the difficult questions, and that’s why I appreciate him so much. I may not always agree with him, but I admire his courage.
A couple of excerpts:
Charles Williams has said of the Lord’s Prayer, “No word in English carries a greater possibility of terror than the little word ‘as’ in that clause.” [“Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.”]
Henri Nouwen, who defines forgiveness as “love practiced among people who love poorly,” describes the process at work:
I have often said, “I forgive you,” but even as I said these words my heart remained angry or resentful. I still wanted to hear the story that tells me that I was right after all; I still wanted to hear apologies and excuses; I still wanted the satisfaction of receiving some praise in return–if only the praise for being so forgiving!
But God’s forgiveness is unconditional; it comes from a heart that does not demand anything for itself, a heart that is completely empty of self-seeking. It is this divine forgiveness that I have to practice in my daily life. It calls me to keep stepping over all my arguments that say forgiveness is unwise, unhealthy, and impractical. It challenges me to step over all my needs for gratitude and compliments. Finally, it demands of me that I step over that wounded part of my heart that feels hurt and wronged and that wants to stay in control and put a few conditions between me and the one whom I am asked to forgive.
Are you remembering to look for beauty in your lives? In the midst of hurry and disappointments and black snow and your own shortcomings? Here’s a reminder from Ann Voskamp: “How do Christians Seek Beauty?” and “The Beauty Challenge: Because God’s Everywhere”.
You are beautiful, by the way.
An interesting twist on “love letters” from God in this piece by Jessica Powers from today’s Magnificat:
Sometimes lovely things that are lost. Beautiful things God scatters everywhere. As Walt Whitman said, (in other words), that God is tossing down love letters in the street and everywhere, if only we would watch out for them. I think I have come to see that even the contradictions and the crosses of life are his “love letters.”
I’ve begun to look for them [God’s love letters] with a certain joy–signs that tell me that Jesus is near. The unexpected delay, the negative response, the inopportune caller, the gimmick that won’t work, the nice food that got overcooked, the lack of something needed, the ballpoint pen that smudges, the mistake one can’t undo–the list is endless. Not (I hope) that I concentrate on the unpleasant things, but that they are little signs that I share in the life of Jesus.
Doesn’t this remind you of this one from Mother Teresa:
One day I met a lady who was dying of cancer in a most terrible condition. And I told her, I say, “You know, this terrible pain is only the kiss of Jesus — a sign that you have come so close to Jesus on the cross that he can kiss you.” And she joined her hands together and said, “Mother Teresa, please tell Jesus to stop kissing me”.
Witnesses to Hope 