Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Ash Wednesday Meditation


About a month ago, we found out Rachel was pregnant again.  We went in for the initial ultrasound to make sure everything looked ok, and it is one of the most amazing moments I have witnessed.  There, up on a television screen, is my child.  Only it’s the size of a grain of rice, and that little grain of rice has a functioning heartbeat, a heartbeat you can hear.  I cannot begin to fathom how small that heart is, but somehow, someway, it works.  This child is truly knit together in its mother’s womb. 
I’m still in awe whenever I think of this small life growing inside of Rachel.  But do you know what sense is more compelling?
Fear. 
Fear of the unknown.  Fear of what life will be like when we have two children, especially considering that it’s hard just to keep up with Caleb.  Fear of how we’ll manage our time, our attention, our love.  Fear of dealing with the costs of daycare, fear of how the future will look.  Everyone tells us that it just works out, that you manage, and while I believe that, it’s one of those things that’s easy to say and a lot harder to live. 
In the face of a miracle, we’re so worried about all the things we have to do to prepare it’s easy to lose sight of the awe we’re supposed to carry in our hearts.  In the face of this incredible thing God is doing, we’re busy getting wrapped up thinking about car seats and minivans.  Rather than awe, we’re filled with fear of how we’ll manage.
We’re not the first people ever to get caught up in this cycle.  Thinking about new babies and thinking about Lent led me back to one of the oldest stories in the Bible.  I know that it’s not part of the lectionary story, but I can’t help but think of Noah this year when Lent comes to mind.
The reason for this is quite simple.  We’ve all been taught, since we were kids, that it rained for 40 days when Noah was on the Ark.  Well, it rained for 40 days, but all that water had to go somewhere, and that took a little time.  In fact, it took over a year.  Noah was on that ark for well over a year, far longer than the 40 days we tend to sing about. 
And I can’t help but wonder if he ever lost sight of the miracle staring him in the face every time he saw the waters, every time he touched the ark.  I wonder if he ever stopped praising God for saving him, for pulling him through the waters into new life, for keeping him alive when all else was lost.  I wonder if the Ark stopped being a miraculous lifeboat and turned into a never ending list of chores.  Surely, there was more to do on the Ark than the folks on there could manage.  Surely, there were never ending distractions and endless lists of things that needed fixing and patching and mending.  Surely, Noah was tempted to get caught up in the distractions and lose sight of the miracles, choosing fear of how they’ll cope, fear of the future, over the awe of the miracle God was conducting.

When we come to Lent, it’s meant to be a season of preparation.  It’s meant to be a time to prepare us for Easter, when we examine ourselves and the sin in our lives in hopes of growing as Christians.  It’s meant to be a season where we set aside sinful habits and pick up things that will help us grow in Christ.

But we’re busy people, right?  It’s hard for us to think about adding one more thing.  It’s much easier to get caught up in what we have to do.  It’s much easier to get distracted, to get turned away from the miracle and turned to the pressing fears in our lives.
But as we draw near to Easter, I invite this Lent to be a season of awe.  I invite you to allow Lent to be a time of wonder and worship as you ponder what Christ has done.
Christ died for you.  Jesus Christ, the King of Creation, hung on a cross out of love and died for you.  Just as miraculously, He then rose from the dead three days later to demonstrate his power and dominion over death and sin and everything else in creation.  He did this for you—He became sin so that you wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of your own sin.  He paid the price so that you would not have to pay it, especially since you could not pay it.  You were headed for death, and Christ stepped in and steered you to life.
This is a miracle.  We are living in the Kingdom of God and have hope for eternity.  I can think of no greater miracle.  We have been gathered into the Ark, safe from death, all by the love of God.  Nothing can harm us.
But we can still get turned away from the awe we should carry in our hearts.  We can still get caught up in the distractions of everyday life, in the fear that we have in the uncertainty of the future, in the pressing duties we all have to perform.
So this Lent, let wonder take hold.  Set aside some time, each and every day, to sit and marvel at what God has done for you.  Pick up the habit of awe, and remember that the King of Creation loves you enough to die for you, and that your sins, once scarlet, are now white as snow.

You are beloved.  You are treasured.  Do not forget that.  Let wonder drive your heart to worship.
Let us pray

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