I have always enjoyed knowing the roots of the words we use. When I began studying philosophy, I discovered that there is a whole field devoted to linguistic analysis. Indeed, there are some who hold that the language we use is the true indicator of what we consider to be “real.” All systems of thought, however, recognize the need for a specialized vocabulary to express certain concepts. The followers of Christ have also developed a specialized vocabulary. Words such as sin, grace, atonement, sacrifice, etc., all spring out of the Judeo-Christian tradition. There are so many such words that we assume all religious language has special meaning. But this isn’t always true.
The season of Lent is observed just before Easter. It begins on Ash Wednesday (February 17h this year) and lasts for forty days, excepting Sundays. It is a season of penitence and preparation for the sacrifice and Resurrection of Christ. “Lent,” however, is not derived from any sacred source. It began in the Old English “lengten” or German “lenzin.” Both words mean just what they look like: lengthen. They refer to the time of year when the daylight hours begin to lengthen. From them was derived the Middle English name for Spring, “lente.” Over time, this was shortened to “lent.” Thus, the name for our church season is simply a formalization of the archaic name for Spring. Sometimes, our “specialized” vocabulary isn’t so specialized!
I feel pulled in two directions by Lent. One direction is the somber, self-reflective and penitent mode. It is a time to think of what God has done for us in Christ’s sacrifice. Having the opportunity to pray in the Garden of Gethsemane in 1998 brought that home to me with great power. The other direction is the jubilant, life-renewing celebration which really belongs to Easter but, in our part of the world, is already beginning. It is hard to be somber when wildflowers and redbud trees are blooming! In the midst of the dark time of Christ’s Passion, I am also aware of the joy of Christ’s Resurrection.
Perhaps that is meant to be. The early church fathers and mothers taught that the Crucifixion and Resurrection could not be separated. Both were part of one great act of love by God. They require each other and only make sense when grasped together. Holding them together in our hearts makes the agony of the Crucifixion bearable and the joy of the Resurrection more powerful. Maybe that’s why I find myself led to both in this season of Lent.
This year, in particular, I feel pulled in both directions. We’ve had a long year of COVID restrictions and many of our Bethany family are suffering. Yet, we are beginning to see the infection numbers go down and the vaccines are arriving. We’ve been struggling with divisive issues that still await resolution. Yet, we have pulled together during this pandemic and found powerful ways to witness for Christ. That felt pull in two directions is why we chose Jeff Manion’s The Land Between as the basis for our Lent sermon series. It is based on the story of the Exodus and invites us to find God in difficult times of transition. That just feels right for where/when we are living. So, I invite you to give yourself fully to this season. Remember, to truly take in what God is doing in the Crucifixion and Resurrection requires much more than vocabulary or ritual or definition. It can only be apprehended by those whose hearts, minds, and spirits are broken open to receive this great act of love that God is pouring out. I pray that God will break the hardness of my heart, and yours, this Lent.
Grace and Peace,
Tom Deviney
