Lent and Loan

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  -- BCP

"Oh, good Lord, what do I give up THIS year?"

That seems to be a big question on the minds of some Christians when Ash Wednesday approaches. The usual answers are chocolate (or candy or sweets of any kind), sometimes coffee, eating junk food, or something that someone especially enjoys. Growing up a Southern Baptist I missed all the childhood angst of Lent since the SBs didn't acknowledge such a papist practice and besides, we were supposed to be penitent (but joyful in our certainty of heaven) all year so we didn't need a special season for it. The dichotomy was subtle, not at all like the bipolar shift from the raucous celebrations of Shrove Tuesday that suddenly and completely stop at the stroke of midnight and become the solemnity and quiet of Ash Wednesday. For SBs, "lent" was a word indicating that you had temporarily given something you owned to someone else with the expectation of getting it back at some point in time (although lots of neighborhood feuds have started over loaned items that never seemed to make their way home again).

Come to think of it, even though the word "lent" comes from the Old English word for "spring," "lent" in the sense of "temporarily relinquishing possession of " seems to work for me when it comes to the period of time between Ash Wednesday and Easter Eve.  The giving up of something (or several somethings) for that period is taking something I own, or something I enjoy, or even something that is very important to me and loaning it to God for the 40 days with the expectation of taking it back Easter Sunday morning as soon as possible.  It's the spring equivalent of New Year's when people make resolutions to give up bad habits and take on a new way of being, doing or thinking. Quite often the resolutions don't work and then there's the guilt to be dealt with. Lent gives me another shot -- a second chance. What I do with it is up to me. This time, though, it isn't just a promise I make to myself but a promise I make to God when I hand over, lend, my coffee, candy, cigarettes or whatever.

With the idea of lent as period of loaning something to God, the flip side is the church's newer suggestion of taking things on for Lent instead of merely giving something up. It's sort of like trading one thing for another but hey, if it works, do it. Going to church more often, developing a more structured prayer or Bible study practice, evevn doing more charitable work or more giving to others is also, in essence, loaning to God extra time and effort, with the expectation that at some point time and personal indulgences will be reclaimed. Duty to be penitent for a season will have been done and then  normal patterns of life can be resumed, the coffee gratefully sipped once again,  the exercises attempted (with more or less successful results) can be set aside and the time reclaimed for watching sports or the checking out the insides of the eyelids instead of watcing a round piece of unleavened flour and a cup of port being elevated.

The purpose of Lent is not just penitence, it's change. Unlike some denominations, Episcopalians aren't expected to wallow in contemplation of their sinfulness and their worthlessness without Jesus as a personal saviour and best pal. That isn't the Episcopal way. It is, however, an Episcopalian thing to be penitent in a quietly genteel way, remembering on Ash Wednesday and the 40 days of Lent following it that indeed we are and will always be dust. Not the center of the universe, not the ruler of all we survey, not even so good we can forget about acknowleging the little rottennesses we try to keep hidden in the darkest corners of our souls and psyches. We quietly struggle with the question of do we leave the ashes on our foreheads when we leave the church as a mark of our Christianity and our reminder to be repentant or do we rub them off because we don't want to brag about our piety by the quiet sign of the smudges and in obedience to the Biblical command not to show off our righteousness in overt, purely ritualistic ways. And over it all is the call to repentance and change, to remember that it isn't all about me and is all about God and God's kingdom.

At Easter we rise from the ashes of Lent. We gratefully grab that cup of cofffee, swipe a chocolate bunny or candy bar from the kids' Easter baskets, put the Bible and/or Prayer Book away for the next year and gratefully turn the alarm off and sleep in that extra hour on Sunday mornings. We take back the time, effort and energy we have loaned to God in the guise of giving up or taking on things for 40 short days, leaving 325 to indulge ourselves once again.

The ashes on our foreheads today are supposed to be a mark of commitment, personal commitment, to remember, to repent, to be deliberate in our choices, even to lend to God on a permanent basis. It's for our own good.

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the
observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance;

by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and

editating on God's holy Word. And, to make a right beginning

of repentance, and as a mark of our mortal nature, let us now

kneel before the Lord, our maker and redeemer.  - BCP, emphasis mine

Maybe it's taking it out of context but "make a right beginning" stands out. It's an almost irresistable invitation to me from God and the church. Do I have the courage to make something a permanent loan this Lent?


Therefore we beseech him to grant us true repentance and his
Holy Spirit, that those things may please him which we do on
this day, and that the rest of our life hereafter may be pure
and holy, so that at the last we may come to his eternal joy;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen  -- BCP