Lenten Scripture Reflection | Thursday: Psalms 1-2; Jeremiah 49.23-39; James 1

From: Libby

"But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing." -James 1:22-25

Maybe you've had scattered moments of looking in that mirror over the past year—you've felt convicted by a certain thing again and again in times when you read Scripture, when you hear a particular theme in sermons, when you are singing in worship, when you notice your internal reactions at work or home, when you interact with certain people or ideas. There is an invitation there—an invitation to take hold of the law of liberty, to press into it, to continue to press in, to humbly surrender to God's power to transform. Those nudges are precious, generous gifts from God himself. 

Right now, I'm imagining what it would be like if I were one of the crowd following Jesus back in the day. What if he turned to me, said my name, and spoke directly to my heart, inviting me to follow him and change? I like to imagine what it was like in the years afterwards for those to whom he spoke in that way, who, like Zacchaeus, heard his words of life and liberty right to their hearts, and whose lives were radically changed. I imagine savoring that memory of him in all of its detail, lingering over his words to me again and again, treasuring that moment, coming back to it for continued encouragement and conviction. When God speaks to us today through his Holy Spirit, it is just as much of a precious, good gift from God. Because of his grace, he is directly intervening to draw our attention to the sin that is winding its roots around our hearts. 

Lent is another kind way that God helps us take hold of that gift. It is a set-aside opportunity to return to those nudges—what is the work of rooting out sin that God wants to do in you? Maybe after some reflection you know at least a part of what that is. Or maybe you feel so out of touch that you have no idea. (If that's the case, start with reading the book of James in the lectionary over the next few days, and I expect you will find a particular area in which you feel convicted). Then, find a way to keep that word from God in the front of your mind this Lent—a verse to recite on the T, a note card in your pocket, a one-sentence prayer that you repeat whenever you brush your teeth. This doesn't limit the many ways that God will continue to convict and speak this Lent in new ways, but it will allow you to give attention to the particular way that he is already showing you how to turn. 

(Also, I can't resist putting in a plug for this Orthodox Lenten prayer. It's been a part of my daily Lenten practice for around 10 years but a part of the Orthodox Church's Lent for ummm, a lot of years. Very rich. http://www.orthodox.net/greatlent/of-ephraim-the-syrian.pdf )

I live in JP with Ryan, a bike, and a stack of unfinished psychology reading. I am a fan of yours.

Lenten Scripture Reflection | Wednesday: Psalm 103; Joel 2.1-17; 2 Corinthians 5.20-6.10; Matthew 6.1-21

From: Jon Yeager

It’s difficult not to laugh at the unique alignment of Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day. Reflecting on this ironic situation, I had a friend humorously ask, “Does this mean we can have the ashes put upon us in the shape of a heart?” All jokes aside, I think this combination of days can actually deepen our understanding of love and togetherness. 

We live in a time and age where we are more technologically connected than ever before, while experiencing a deepening disconnect and loneliness. I’m sure we each feel at least a measure of this within our own life. And whatever the measure, it can be devastatingly intensified on days for which this relational connection, which is either lacking altogether or doesn’t measure up to our expectations, is to be celebrated. It can lead us to a process of introspection that sees the many ways we are not being recognized by others, cherished by friends, or romantically loved by another. This process attacks our identity as a human being. 

Enter Ash Wednesday. To many, it may be the strangest way to observe Valentine’s Day, but quite possibly it is the most appropriate way for those who know the heartache of loneliness, or are familiar with the deep confusion concerning their present experience of love. Ash Wednesday is a fresh moment of remembrance, or a making present, of our mortality and penitence while fixing our gaze upon our hope. Ash Wednesday calls us to bring our heartaches and confusion, along with every hidden, dark corner of our heart and the brokenness that pervades our world, from our excessive love for created things to the impoverished love of good things. We are made painfully aware that from dust we came and to dust we shall return. 

However, we must not miss the hope of love and life that marks this day. The ashes are not placed upon our foreheads as is desired by our personal liking, cultural calendar, nor to any other symbol other than the cross. In our mortality, we gaze upon the cross where Jesus is victorious over sin and death through his self-giving and loving obedience. In our brokenness, we fix our sight upon the cross where God’s healing presence meets us and promises to restore us to resurrection life. The physical ashes placed upon our forehead has an aroma of mortality, but the cross placed upon us has the aroma of the abundant life. 

As Jesus reminds the Sadducees who question the reality of the resurrection in today’s text of Matthew 22, “you are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God,” so we enter into Ash Wednesday to be corrected, confronted by the Word of God, and empowered by his presence. Our intolerable loneliness, unfortunate disconnect with others, and our experience of inauthentic love is met by the self-giving love of Jesus who prayed alone in the dark night of Gethsemane, suffered alone while his disciples fled, and endured the false mockery of his kingship. 

We receive these ashes together as one body, and we hope in the resurrection together as one body. We are not alone in our hurt or brokenness, and we are certainty not alone in the power of God to meet us in our present situations, forgive us our sins, and raise us to new life. As our Psalm reading today wonderfully reminds us, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.” This is surely a love worth our honest penitence and patience. 

I, my wife Brittany, and daughter Ellie live in Arlington. I work for a Christian leadership organization called Christian Union on Harvard’s campus. 

Tuesday: Psalms 144-145; Jeremiah 49.1-22; Colossians 4.2-18

From: Aanchal Narang

The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. (Ps 145.18)

Truth is a hard word for me in this season. I’ve been trying to discern the truth, or God’s voice, from a number of battling voices in my head.

Lord, how do you want me to feel about this situation? How do I feel about this situation anyway? What should I do? Which voice do I listen to? How many truths are there?

All of this questioning is tiring and can sometimes feel very unhealthy. It erodes at the trust I feel in my intuition or my own self. And while I understand that the human heart is a complicated thing, how do I balance that with the fact that the Holy Spirit of truth resides in it as well?

What does the still silent voice remind me? When I let it, it reminds me that He loves me. He loves me. And in these moments my anxieties, my ruminations, my voices are subdued. What happens when I know that God loves me? It means I’m covered. I’m protected. I can trust.

So perhaps when I cannot fully trust myself, or the Spirit that works in my heart and mind, I can try to trust the God whose hand cannot be stayed and plans cannot be frustrated.

The Lord is trustworthy in all he promises and faithful in all he does.
The Lord upholds all who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.
The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time.
You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.        
The Lord is righteous in all his ways and faithful in all he does.
The lord is near to all who all on him, to all who call on him in truth.
(Psalm 145. 14-18)

If you were to trust God fully in the situation you are in now, what would that look like?

I am getting my MFA through Boston University’s Creative Writing Program. I live in Brighton, like going on morning walks, dancing, and anything that makes me move around. I use the word “beautiful” too often. I like trees and dirt and the earth. Honestly, I like most things so feel free to talk to me about your favorite books, most random interests, what you had for lunch, or anything else that may pop into your head. I promise you I’ll be interested.