Lent as Re-creation
LENT I
March 1, 2009
Aldred Neufeldt
Lectionary Readings: Genesis 9:8-17
Psalm 25:1-10
Mark 1:9-15
I Peter 3:18-22
Introduction
Ringing in my ears and mind these days are the wonderful words and harmonies of the Mass in B minor composed by Johann Sebastian Bach (John, for short). No doubt other members of Pax Christi Chorale, which is performing the Mass in late April, join me in this. As I’ve engaged with the music, I have become ever more impressed by Bach’s genius as a composer and of the Mass as a composition. There isn’t one single style of music – different styles are mixed to glorious harmonic effect – so rich that contemporary composers of jazz, pop and other idioms regularly appropriate them for their own works. With Sandra Horst’s help, I’ll illustrate.
In the Sanctus the Basses are monks chanting Sanctus, Dominus, Deus, Sabaoth – Holy Lord God of hosts – as the tenors, altos and sopranos weave a tapestry of inter-locking harmonies above them.
In another place the Tenors open a bright and lively dance motif with Cum Sancto Spiritu in Gloria Dei Patris, Amen – joined in turn by each of the other voices with the same words and melody line but in a different key singing – “With the Holy Ghost in the glory of God the Father, Amen”. What wonderful imagery – dancing with the Holy Spirit!
Elsewhere another style, each voice with its own unique melody line layered, one over the other – once led by sopranos, another by altos, basses or tenors, each time followed by layers of other voices. There is no place where one might say a note was misplaced
But for me, at this time, the composition has a place beyond its mere performance. Nothing could serve better as a discipline to frame one’s reflections on the spiritual dimension of life during the Lenten season.
Lent
As we already know, this is the 1st Sunday of Lent. The Wednesday past was Ash Wednesday – the day that marks the beginning of this time of new beginnings.
In the secular world we think of new beginnings as associated with New Year’s Day – marked by New Year’s resolutions. But, in the Christian calendar, Lent is far more appropriate. In a sermon on this same Sunday a year ago I suggested two reasons. One is that renewal – or re-creation – is at the heart of its purpose. A second is that Lent involves more than a one-night or one-day stand as is the case with the New Year celebration – where resolutions made on the spur of the moment are just as easily forgotten. Lent involves 40 weekdays plus Sundays, a much more reasonable time for considered reflection about and adjustment of one’s life direction.
The number 40 is connected with a number of biblical events, including the great flood of 40 days and Noah’s Ark, but especially with the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness preparing for His ministry by facing the temptations that could lead him to abandon his mission and calling. The underlying message in both the flood story and the account of Jesus in the wilderness, as it is in Lent, is about the relationship of humankind to God, and the promise that God moves from destruction to the provision of all our needs.
The account of Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness in particular speaks to the kinds of temptations we can understand to this day and, in the face of those, God’s promise of renewal. In contrast to today’s reading from the Gospel of Mark, a similar account in Matthew provides considerably greater detail about events leading up to and including the wilderness experience. Mark is much more cryptic and to the point. In 5 short verses we are told of the baptism of Jesus, the Holy Spirit descending in the form of a dove and the voice from Heaven saying: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased”. Then the Spirit “immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilde
rness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts, and the angels waited on him” (v. 12-13). Period.
Then he began his ministry, proclaiming the good news of God and calling the people to repentance.
The brevity of Mark’s description has a dramatic effect, one that many noted artists have sought to capture. In one noted gallery, I believe in St. Petersburg, I saw a series of paintings based on this text – one of the baptism; another of the Spirit descending like a dove, the face of Jesus transfixed by the voice from above; and another of Jesus in the wilderness, put upon by Satan, but with angels in the background. What impressed me about the work of these great artists was their ability to capture the emotion of the moment – of what Jesus feels when he hears the voice “You are my son – the beloved” – imagine what one feels like to be called ‘the beloved’ – by anyone, let alone by God; and then, how that contrasts with the shock and feelings of desolation and aloneness a few days later in the wilderness.
A Few Words on the Meaning of Lent for an Anabaptist Community
“What did you give up for Lent?” an acquaintance once asked me. Growing up Mennonite, this question had little meaning to me, as indeed would also have been the case for someone from Baptist and other similar church traditions. Even today Ash Wednesday passes with little notice.
In a way, that’s surprising since Lent is one of the oldest observations on the Christian calendar and Anabaptists always have seen the early church as a model of how the church should seek to be. As early as the 2nd century AD there is record of such a season being observed involving self-examination and penitence, demonstrated by self-denial, in preparation for Easter, though then it seems to have lasted only 2 or 3 days. It seems to have become longer after the year 325 when the Council of Nicea discussed a 40-day Lenten season of fasting.
While its observation has changed over time, the purpose has always remained the same. Lent marks a time of self-evaluation about how we live in preparation for the most important of all celebrations – that of Christ risen at Easter, of His ascension and of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit blessed the Disciples of Christ and the earliest church.
And, while Mennonites historically have not give much attention to Lent, it is useful to note that some aspects of what we did during the weeks before Easter were, in fact, consistent with early church practices. Notably, our tradition of organizing church preparation classes for baptismal candidates, with baptism scheduled for Pentecost, echoes the early church practices using these weeks to instruct new converts in preparation for baptism. So, while Lent is not a strong feature in our tradition, we have some ties.
Further, there are reasons why we might give some serious consideration to embracing the season more intentionally. One rests in recent changes to our baptismal practices. Where once baptism was tied to the weeks before Easter and Pentecost, in the last few decades that has become more flexible. While some baptisms still occur in spring, it is not uncommon for church preparation sessions and baptism to be held as and when a person wishes to make such a step in faith. So doing ties baptism to another church tradition – as in the account of Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch on the road to Gaza (Acts 8: 26-40).
But this more flexible approach to baptism raises some questions about how we create new traditions that help us review and correct our directions. Reserving baptism for Pentecost except in rare circumstances had the merit of reminding us, once a year, of the reason for our own baptism and its tie to the blessing of the Holy Spirit. The more flexible arrangement weakens those memory ties, and so we need some new tradition to remind us of that connection.
A second rests in changes to our external realities. Where 40 or 50 years ago Mennonites were on the periphery of the social and economic order, now we are part of the great middle class. The social forces that excluded us also reminded us of our unique Christian perspective as represented in the Anabaptist confession of faith. Now such reminders have faded. And, at the same time that we have changed in relation to the society, there also have been changes in the nature of society around us. Where once there was considerable emphasis on adhering to such Christian virtues as humility, generosity, kindness, faith and temperance, and so on; the society around us has become secularized in a way that minimizes such virtues. Not only are such virtues minimized, there is a lot of evidence that our society has come to glamorize what once were thought of as the ‘7 deadly sins – vices such as pride, greed, envy, anger, lust and gluttony. None of these are seen as particularly problematic in our post-modern world. Indeed, not infrequently they are reframed as personal choices, the exercise of which can be seen as either healthy or unhealthy, depending on the situation.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the dominant front-page news stories of the past year. Stories about war, whether in Afghanistan or Iraq or Sudan, largely seem to have disappeared from current debate. What has taken top billing are stories of financial scandal, immense bonuses paid to leaders of companies that were in dire financial straits, economic failures and investment fraud – all manifestations of the mistaken mantra that in the market place ‘greed is good’ and that it is the balance of peoples ‘self interest’ that will keep the market economy from doing itself harm. We all know the harm that has come from such reframing of vices to putative virtues.
Even if we’ve sought to be virtuous in our life choices, we’d be kidding ourselves if we thought that we hadn’t been influenced at least to a degree by the society around us and its insidious reframing of our understanding of values which, in turn, confuses the distinction between which lead us nearer to God and which take us away. In the absence of the external reminders we used to have in place, we would do well to embrace new internal traditions such as represented by Lent.
Entering into Lent is a personal journey
Entering into Lent is a personal journey – once a year. It needs to be personal in that each one of us is unique as a person, as is our view of and our relationship to God. There are things one might do with others – such as reading of the scriptures or daily devotionals and discussions in caring groups – but entering into the Lenten experience really involves me as a person intentionally embracing the wildernesses of my own personal life journey – reflecting on ways I might right-size my life in relation to the purposes God might have for it. It involves an intentional discipline of guided reflection.
Some church traditions encourage times of retreat towards that end – going to a retreat centre, for example, for a time of silence and reflection – whether during Lent or at other times. I’m aware that some folk at TUMC, once or twice a year, go to a retreat for a few days of personal renewal. That is a practice I respect immensely, but for me hasn’t been particularly meaningful or appealing. But there are other ways.
The question “what did you give up for Lent” asked by my acquaintance of many years ago reflects one common way. The idea is to give up something of importance to oneself as a reminder, a touchstone that whenever one thinks of what is given up, one reflects however briefly on penitence and renewal. It used to be something like avoiding a favorite food or abstaining from an enjoyable practice. As time passes, the idea of what to give up also is changing. There was a small story in the Globe earlier this week saying that a surprising number of Christians are thinking about abstaining from Facebook this year. Apparently, this has been all the rage amongst college students in the US (perhaps in Canada) these past few years.
Embarking on a discipline of guided reflection doesn’t mean one necessarily has to give something up. One could add something to help one reflect on and make adjustments to how one seeks to live ones’ life as a follower of the Christ who we celebrate at Easter.
For me, this year, the B minor Mass serves that purpose. For you it might be something else. But, for me, this Mass grounds one solidly in Christian faith as expressed in and through its 5 parts. There is the:
– Kyrie – the acknowledgement of our failings – Lord, have mercy on us. All of us have failings – to prompt ourselves we might ask ourselves questions such as: ‘what tempts me’ or ‘how do I seek to control my own destiny’ or ‘how do I try to be my own god’? For most of us the answer to those questions are not too far from our consciousness – one doesn’t have to dwell on them, but it is important to acknowledge them.
– Gloria – praise and thanksgiving – Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace to men of good will…. We give Thee thanks for Thy great glory… Amen. This is dancing with the Spirit at its best – despite our acknowledged failings we have confidence of God’s love as reflected in Christ Risen.
– Credo – our confession of faith – the Niacene Creed – I believe in one God, the Father almighty, Maker of heaven and earth and of all things visible and invisible…. Repeating the Creed regularly provides a solid grounding to our faith perspective.
– Sanctus – Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts – Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord – a hymn of praise; and, finishing with the
– Agnus Dei – Lamb of God, grant us peace – the closing petition
This sequencing of thoughts is a discipline that has ancient roots. You might look, for example, at the words of Psalm 25 that were read earlier today or other Psalms. I haven’t taken the time to draw out their similarity, but many of the Psalms too reflect a disciplined way of communing with God. It contains within it the acknowledgement of failings and then continues with expressions of praise and thanksgiving, confession of faith and a petition.
Each of these parts provides an important element to guide one’s reflections. The lyrics of each part in the Mass are nearly as old as the church. These are nested within and resting on the magnificent score prepared by Bach. To me this not only provides for reflection and insight, but also renewal of my soul and my commitment to my walk in Christ.
My wish for all of you in this time of Lent is that you find something equally as fulfilling that helps prepare you, and all of us, to appreciate anew the purpose of our lives lived in commitment to the Christ Risen we celebrate at Easter.