As I write this Pastor’s Pen I am also preparing for our annual Ash Wednesday service, which will mark the beginning of the Season of Lent. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition, Lent is known as the season of “bright sadness.” The name reflects the words of the Apostle Paul, which I often quote during funeral services: “We do not grieve as others do, who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Those words reflect the very real tension we experience as Christians who live in a world that is still wracked by the consequences of sin and evil.
Evil, and its effect on our lives, is evident in all kinds of ways. In recent weeks we have buried two dear sisters in the Lord, Frances Carter and Rose Marie Stiles. Over the weekend, the six year old son of a friend died of a severe asthma attack. We feel those losses acutely, and they remind us, as we affirm on Ash Wednesday, that we are dust and to dust we shall return. Life in this broken world measures out to each a share of sorrow and suffering. We are not only affected by the brokenness of the world in which we live, but if we reflect honestly we can’t help but recognize that there is brokenness in ourselves as well. Though we are redeemed, we still struggle with sin and failure. Lent is a season to reflect upon these realities. It is intended as a season of sadness as we consider our brokenness, the temporality of our lives, and the ultimate emptiness of so much we hold dear and strive after. The writer of Ecclesiastes captures it well with the phrase, repeated seven times in the book, “all is vanity and a striving after the wind” (Ecclesiastes 1:14; 2:11, 17, 26; 4:4, 16; 6:9).
Many Christians I know are uncomfortable reflecting on these things. They want to talk about victory in Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit. They have little time for the ancient discipline of lament. Consequently, many in the protestant tradition have abandoned the observance of Lent altogether. We do so, I think, to our detriment. When we neglect the solemnity, self-examination and self-denial Lent calls us to, we too often arrive at Easter spiritually unprepared to celebrate the marvelous gift of the cross, and the life-giving, world altering hope of the resurrection. Lent invites us to sit locked in the upper room with the disciples, entering into their grief, and reflecting with them on their failure and cowardice. It invites us to feel for ourselves their despair as they came to terms with their dashed hopes and broken dreams.
It is when we have walked with them on the dark side of the cross that we will also be in a position to share in their joy when, suddenly, the risen Christ appeared to them, saying, “Peace be with you!” (John 20:19). Lent calls us to a season of sadness, but it is a “bright sadness,” because at its end we are lifted out of the despair and vanity of living in a world wracked by evil, and given the hope of “an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade” (1 Peter 1:4); it is a bright sadness because we do not grieve as those who have no hope! Our hope is in the risen Lord, who stooped to the depth of our brokenness and took everything evil could throw at him, to lift us out of our brokenness and break the bonds of sin and death once and for all; and while evil still touches our lives, inside and out, in this broken world, it will not have the last word!
So we will gather again in a few days, to receive the ashes on our foreheads and hear again the words of the liturgy, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” And the ashes will mark us with the sign of the cross, reminding us that our lives in this world belong to, and are under the protection of the one who has risen from the grave to an indestructible life! And we will make the pilgrimage again, on the dark side of the cross, with expectant longing for the day when we will gather to proclaim, “He is risen! He is risen indeed!”
Pastor Jon Enright
March 1, 2024