Author: Joanna Czternastek

Last week I met a dear friend for lunch. She is in her late eighties and lately she has struggled with health issues, including a few falls, the latest causing a broken wrist – a particular handicap for her as she is a writer. She repeatedly tells us that growing old is no fun, yet she is full of life, a tonic when you meet her. She is an attentive observer of the human condition, has a feisty spirit and wry sense of humour. She is also a woman of deep faith and, like the prophets, has the confidence to rail against God. The conversation began like this, 

‘I am really angry with Jesus and I’m going to tell him so! We are always being told that that God became human in Jesus so that God could experience all that we humans experience. Well Jesus didn’t experience old age did he! How could he know what all this feels like when he died in his early thirties!’ 

The mini-rant over, we enjoyed wide-ranging and stimulating conversation, as always, but the encounter challenged me to reflect more deeply on how we reconcile within ourselves failing health, loss of loved ones, our own failures and fears and ultimately our own mortality. I think Lent offers us an invitation to go to ‘the place of the soul‘, as Celtic writers often put it, that place of within us where, at a gut level we know what is true and real and of God, that place within us where transformation can happen – if we are open to it.   

How do we understand the invocation, ‘Repent and believe in the Gospel’ on Ash Wednesday? Could ‘repent’ this year, be an invitation to think differently, reset our inner compass, and perhaps commit to a few simple daily practices that might help bring about a ‘metanoia’ – that radical change of heart to which we are all called and for which we often long.

Our fundamental ‘sin’ –  the failure to trust God’s unfailing and eternal love for us?

To begin with could we re-examine our image of God? Do we really believe that we are made in God’s image and are called to grow in likeness of God? Do we really trust that we are loved unconditionally and forever? Even with all our faults and failings, our sins and transgressions, our destructive patterns of behaviour, God only ever looks on us with love and compassion and only ever desires that we feel this love – deeply. Consider the image of the forgiving father Jesus gives us in the gospel, the father who is constantly on the look-out for the return of his prodigal son, whose love pours out in lavish celebration when the errant son finally arrives home. No judgement. No blame. No recrimination. Only open arms and rejoicing.

 ‘Come back to me, with all your heart, don’t let fear keep us apart’, wrote Dominican priest and musician Gregory Norbert, taking to heart the message of the prophet Hosea. The hymn chorus;

‘Long have I waited for
Your coming home to me
And living deeply our new lives’, 

offers an opportunity for much reflection. Perhaps we have an image of God that needs to be redeemed? Can we repent of any notion of a God who is ever watchful, ready to judge and condemn and instead trust in the God of compassion and forgiveness revealed by Jesus?

The ultimate witness to God’s unconditional love is, of course, the cross. God became human in Jesus to show the extent of God’s love for us. The inevitable outcome of Jesus proclaiming and living God’s kingdom of love, justice and peace, without compromise or collusion with the ‘powers and principalities’ of his time, was death on the cross, the ultimate sacrifice of love, which, in time and even in our day other saints prophets have courageously followed. Can we use this Lent to turn around our thinking and perhaps consider sin more as of not trusting in that love for which Jesus gave his life? What are the fears that ‘keep us apart’ from ‘living more deeply’ in that love?

One simple practice could be to ask ourselves, ‘How can I love more deeply, trust more readily today? Can I affirm and bless another person today? Is there someone I need to forgive and am I ready?

The Cross of Light – ‘What we don’t transform we transmit’ – Richard Rohr

 ‘Two universal paths of transformation have been available to every human being God has created: great love and great suffering.’ 

A more difficult challenge is to reflect on how we deal with our pain and loss, which is at the heart of the Christian story, says spiritual teacher Fr Richard Rohr. If we don’t let our pain be transformed within us, we will inevitably transmit it, he claims. Our parish has as a motif, ‘the Cross of Light’.

It symbolises that on Good Friday, at the point when Jesus trusted completely in his Father and gave up his life, the cross is shattered, death is overcome and the light of resurrection breaks through. Rohr is convinced that the only way we, too, can let go is if we trust that we are held safely and can fall back into the arms of one who loves us extravagantly, as Jesus did.  Jesus offers us a way of enabling our pain to breakthrough, a pattern for our daily living. Rather than simply a case of ‘offering it up’, his total surrender breaks through, identifies and is in solidarity with the pain of others, the pain of the world. It is a radically different focus.

Let us pray, this Lent, that we can find that trust, the letting go, knowing we are always held. My dear luncheon friend seems able to live this way, which makes her a blessing for those around her. 

May we give thanks for such people in our lives. May we, too, have the courage to understand what it takes to see with the lens of love.

Let us search with our whole soul for that which gives light and hope, healing and compassion. 

May we always continue to believe in Spring, especially in the midst of our inevitable Winters.

Margaret Siberry
Leeds Justice and Peace Commission

Lent is a time of prayer, alms giving and fasting and in doing this it also gives us the opportunity to take stock. Life has a funny way of teaching us what truly matters at the end of the day. As time goes by, I grow in deeper awareness that each and every day is a gift. Alas, we often take our life and all those who journey with us for granted but once something barges in and thwarts what we consider normality, somehow the mists that surround our consciousness from appreciating each moment begin to lift and then we start to see life in all its stark beauty; beauty so fragile, so precious and so unique. Rather than heading to the depressing news headlines every single day reminding us of our world’s brokenness, of humanity’s greed and of the hold money has on many to the detriment of many others, let us opt to have our own daily positive headlines by outlining wonderful events which occur throughout our humdrum mundane days brimming with little divine tokens of goodness strewn along our life’s path which require our attentiveness to perceive them. 

Gratitude is indeed a wonderful approach to our existence here on earth. We are here but once and hence it is indeed worth it to truly savour and enjoy the journey despite the hurdles, the heartaches, the betrayals, the hard work, the difficulties, the doubts, the lack of acknowledgement and the fears which will undoubtedly hamper us as we trudge along. 

With gratitude we can choose to see beyond these apparent stumbling blocks on our way and rather decide to see them as opportunities to help us grow through what we go through making us more resilient and strong. 

That is the secret before then allowing us to move forward, never getting stuck in a ‘what if?’ or ‘why me?’ attitude as that would drug us into a slippery slope leading to the treacherous vicious vortex of self-pity and self-doubt which suck the beauty out of life.

Life is God’s gift to us. What we make out of it, is our gift back to Him. Hence what sort of gift are we giving back to our Creator God who has loved us into being right from the moment of our conception, continues to love us as we gradually become what He dreams that we grow into and will forever love us beyond our last breath? The choice is in our hands and in the attitude we choose to live our life by – are we overcome by busyness or are we overwhelmed by the divine grace that surrounds us if we have eyes to see it daily? Opt wisely so that when the time comes for us to leave this earth, we would have truly lived life and not merely fleeting existed.         

 Rev. Dr. Joseph D Cortis