Lenten Reflections

I’d like to focus this reflection on the idea of waiting or preparing for things not entirely known, and not entirely anticipated with joy.

Growing up Catholic, Lent was always partially a time of waiting (with some impatience) for Easter and all the familiar fun and happiness that holiday brought (counting down the days, say, until you can eat chocolate again). But that isn’t really the kind of waiting, or preparing, in which Jesus and the disciples are engaged in the Gospel readings we get during this time. For them, what comes at the end of all of this is less certain and less obviously “good.” In the Gospel of Matthew, when Jesus describes to his disciples what they’re headed for, Peter’s instinctive reaction is to take up a stance of opposition against it: that won’t happen; it can’t. Jesus tells him off. He says he’s thinking about things the way humans do, not the way God does. To me this seems importantly different than saying: “Don’t worry: it’ll all be worth it for what comes after,” or “Don’t worry: it’ll all just be temporary.” It’s more like saying: “This part you want to skip is important.” “This part where you don’t understand, yet, is important.”

I happen to be pregnant this Lent, and it feels like a very appropriate time to be pregnant. There’s a lot to be afraid of, and uncertain about, as you contemplate what you’re going to arrive into at the end of a pregnancy. And the journey in the meantime isn’t always marked with joy: sometimes, for a long time, even, it might be marked by a lot of nausea. But you do what you can for now, and you make your plans around the best possibilities, even though they lie on the other side of pain, and even though you may not really understand how to envision the goodness of those possibilities, exactly (how does one really understand the prospect of a completely new person being in one’s life, anyway?).

Maybe you have something like this kind of waiting, or preparing, in your life right now. Graduation gives you a lot to look forward to, and a lot to be worried about, too. The looming

specter of finals: their trials and their possibilities for learning. The state of the world right now leaves a lot of us feeling like we’re on the brink of something: we feel we can begin to see the awful shape of parts of it. But we can’t go back, and we can’t stay put to stay safe, either.

The reading on Sunday was one that a lot of you are likely familiar with: the story of the prodigal son. Maybe this week we can think about the part of the story where the son is still on his ashamed way home to face his reckoning from his father. What does he think he’ll find when he gets there? What does that journey feel like while he’s still in it? How does he keep going? Let’s keep going. Let’s see what can be wrought from us. Let’s keep trying to understand how we can see this part as important, as something God would call good.

Do you hear what I hear?

No, this isn’t a misplaced theme to the Christmas season. It’s a question that should challenge us, the faithful, regularly if we have the ear of our heart open. This week, we have two instances in our faith tradition that illustrate moments where God speaks to important people in what will turn out to be important moments. The first is from this past Sunday’s gospel reading, where God speaks to Moses in the form of the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15). The second is Tuesday’s feast of the Annunciation, where God, through the Angel Gabriel, speaks to Mary and announces that God has chosen her to be the mother of Jesus (Luke 1:26-38).

Our modern mind and sensibilities would have a difficult time grappling a bush on fire speaking nor an angel appearing out of nowhere. In both situations, Moses and Mary are apprehensive and even fearful, to an extent, probably as we would be today. A conversation ensues that reveals a plan that God has in mind. Use your imagination and put yourself in Moses and Mary’s place, how would you have reacted? Would your apprehension have gotten the best of you? Moses and Mary asked questions; what would you have asked?

As we are in prayerful preparation during Lent, how can we apply these moments in scripture to our lives?

1. God may not speak in such a grand or remarkable way. Are we noticing the ordinary and unremarkable ways God speaks to us?
2. Are we ready to listen to God, and more importantly, how would we respond?
3. Who might be a companion, friend, or spiritual mentor to share such a reflection, or to merely ask, "Do you hear what I hear?”

*If you’re interested in enlisting the help of a spiritual mentor during Lent, I’d encourage you to sign up for the Busy Person’s Retreat, sponsored by the Office of Mission & Ministry. It is an opportunity to go on a home retreat and work on your spiritual self under the guidance of a personal retreat leader. The format is flexible so as to fit your schedule, and there’s a wonderful meal at the end of the week. It is an excellent way to dip your toe into the retreat world or an opportunity for a mini spiritual reset. I hope you’ll consider participating!

I have recently been researching some of the earliest texts and traditions related to Lent and Easter in the history of the church as preparation for my class on the history of Jesus and for a presentation to our Iona LIRIC students on the history of Easter, during Spring break.

It surprised me to know that the image of Jacob struggling (wrestling) with God in the Hebrew Scriptures once played a very important part of the spiritual preparation for the high holy days of the Easter Triduum. In the Book of Genesis Ch. 32: 22-32 Jacob wrestles with an angelic form of God. The scene is also referenced in the Book of Hosea, Ch. 12:3-5. Some scholars suggest that this scene of Jacob was once one of the stations of the cross, together with the story of Jonah swallowed up by a whale for three days. Others suggest that these themes were often carved onto the burial tombs of the early Christians who were, in many ways, still very Jewish in their art, stories and literature. Both Jacob and Jonah emerge with a clear sense of their mission because of their struggles. In many way, Jesus goes into the desert for 40 days, not so much to get away from the secular pull of the temptations in the towns or villages he knew; rather, he goes into the desert to do battle with his God and from that emerges with a clearer understanding of his mission, a mission that would lead to the cross.

We see this very clearly in the early sections from the Gospel of Mark, the oldest of the four gospels. When the early church began celebrating Lent, as a preparation for Easter around the year 700, most Christians knew that it was a struggle to simply see Jesus as a Redeemer. But, as Benedictine Sister Joan Chichester, in her wonderful book, “Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope”, reminds us, our struggles to grow more authentically or discover our mission, is born out of struggle. It is this struggle that bears the fruit, the joyful fruit, of a life that is lived in the glow and confidence of Easter.

It’s something of an understatement, but it should be obvious that many people in our world are struggling at the present time; many wonder if the United States in its present political condition or even the mainline churches in the USA actually understand the pain of their struggles for food, clothing, heat, or what they need to live a sustainable life that respects the natural world and its resources.

What we can do during this time of Lent is to be more attentive whenever we see humanity struggling to make sense of life or struggling to find an end that leads to the hope of Easter. Furthermore, with Pope Francis, we can affirm that the voices of darkness, selfishness and greed which led to Jesus being crucified, will never win; only generous love with an attentive ear to the struggles of others will make us as Christians relevant and victorious with the risen Lord of Easter.

Fr. Vaughn J Fayle OFM, Ph.D.

Lent is upon us already.  Where did the time go? Many of us are wondering and asking ourselves (and others as well) about what to do for Lent.  What are you giving up? Are you doing anything special for this time of conversion and renewal? Hopefully these weekly reflections may help you on your Lenten journey. We often think of Lent as a time of penance, sacrifice and conversion.  It is but it is also a time of renewal. We are invited by our prayer, fasting and works of charity to renew our relationship with God, with others and with ourselves as well. This Lent 2025 is a Lent rich in celebrations that can help us in the call to renewal and conversion. 

This week, all Christians are beginning the journey of Lent.  Because of the difference in calculating the date for Easter, Orthodox Christians are usually a week or two later in beginning Lent and celebrating Easter.  This year is one of the times when we are close in the dates for Lent and Easter.  Orthodox Christians began Lent (also called the Great Fast) on Monday while Catholics and other Christians begin on Wednesday.  All of us will be celebrating Easter (also called Pascha for the Orthodox) on April 20. This occurs every few years.  Pope Francis has called for Christians to find a common date to celebrate Easter. This has been welcomed by several Orthodox Patriarchs, especially His Beatitude, the Ecumenical Patriarch, Bartholomew. As we journey through Lent, perhaps we can pray for the dialogue needed to bring about that common celebration of the Lord’s Resurrection for all Christians. Jesus did pray that “all may be one.”

This year also marks the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea.  This was the first Council of the Church and was called to define the Church’s understanding of the mystery of the Holy Trinity as well as understanding the person of Jesus Christ as fully Human and fully Divine. From this Council, we have the Nicene creed which is professed by Christians on a regular basis.  It is a time for the Church to celebrate this historic event and to renewed in living our faith in the Mystery of the Trinity and in Jesus Christ.  

Lastly, Pope Francis has recognized 2025 as a jubilee year with the theme of Hope.  We are called to be Pilgrims of Hope.  It is certainly something our world, our country and our Church need in these troubled times.  Hope invites us to pray and to work for a world of peace and justice. It calls to recognize the sanctity and dignity of human life as well as to safeguard the gift of creation.  Hope calls us to see the world in light of faith and to serve others with love and compassion. 

May our prayer, fasting and works of charity (from Matthew’s Gospel for Ash Wednesday) help us on our journey to Easter to grow in Faith and to be bearers of Hope to all in our world.