Friday after Ash Wednesday

Psalm 31 • Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25:32 • Philippians 4:1-9 • John 17:9-19

Reading Psalm 31 from the Book of Common Prayer, I so empathize with the psalmist, falling to his knees in prayer. Depressed and paranoid (I imagine), he’s ashamed of wanting the LORD’s help.

Yet . . . he knows that the LORD delivers us. It’s comforting, knowing that this writer, so long ago, knew my anxiety . . . and more importantly, comforting to follow his lead, toward relief, via Our LORD.

At first, I see the psalmist calling on God by rote, merely hinting at his personal problem, struggling for the courage to spill his woes:

I will rejoice and be glad because of your mercy;
for you have seen my affliction;
you know my distress.
Soon, all the pain comes out:
Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble. . . .

All parts of him: eyes, belly, life, years, strength, and bones are miserable. That’s depression. His enemies, neighbors, acquaintances, crowds, cross the street when they see him coming and whisper behind his back. He’s paranoid. “I am as useless as a broken pot”—my favorite line. I know that feeling.

But then . . . remembering why he fell to his knees, he does put trust in the LORD. Recalling the God’s true power to comfort, he just begs for it: “. . . in your loving-kindness save me.” Still self-conscious, he wants help with that as well: “LORD, let me not be ashamed for having called upon you.”

By and by, encouraged, having remembered God’s love, he sings praises to the LORD, the wonderful, loving protector of all who put their trust in Him.

Finally, the psalmist and I, restored in spirit, turn to the world, recommending the love of God to everyone:

Love the LORD all you who worship him;
the LORD protects the faithful. . . .
Be strong and let your heart take courage,
all you who wait for the LORD.

Amen!

— Patsy Goolsby

Thursday after Ash Wednesday

Psalm 37:19-42 • Habakkuk 3:1-18 • Philippians 3:12-21 • John 17: 1-8

Here I am at the beginning of another Lent. Along with the effort to get me and mine to church on Sunday, to find time and quiet for prayer at home, I will add whatever discipline I can for a holy Lent. I will probably start faltering about day three or four, and I will have excellent reasons for that—small children at home; husband away often; a house we’re fixing up; too tired. I know ahead of time that these things are part of my life. So why do I set myself up for failure? Why do I even bother being religious? I don’t believe that hell awaits me if I don’t go to church, so what draws me to this struggle?

There have been times in my life when religious practice was non-existent and I gave no more than a cursory consideration to the spiritual. At such times, my life was perfectly normal and . . . flat. I found life lacked dimension and meaning, and the additional time I gained was a poor trade-off. I acknowledge a spiritual need in my life, and in that need I require the foundation of a faith tradition and community of other seekers. Saint Paul’s letters show that he understood people like me. I can appreciate his concern that believers in this young faith have support in a world so ready to look askance at them. He states in today’s reading that “many live as enemies of the cross of Christ . . . their god is the belly . . . their minds are set on earthly things.” A god of the belly does not answer a spiritual need. When I contemplate Christ and my life as Christian, when I speak to or read from people who also consider these things, I find support for a grand journey that makes my life richer by far than anything I might find on my own.

So I will strive for a holy Lent and a blessed life.

— Michele Allen

Ash Wednesday

Psalm 32 • Amos 5: 6-15 • Hebrews 12:1-14 • Luke 18: 9-14

Here comes Jesus in another distressing disguise—meeting Oscar

It was a cold morning and I was looking forward to sitting at the table in Starbucks, reading my paper and having breakfast before our Advent retreat began. I noticed what I thought was a homeless man sitting in a chair near the window. As I sat down to eat, I asked him if he had eaten breakfast and when he said no, I gave him some money to buy some. He shook my hand and introduced himself, thanked me and offered to do work for me if I needed something done. He returned to his chair for a moment and then came to sit with me at the table. We ate breakfast together, shared the morning paper and talked for a bit. As I left I felt more than the food or the paper or the money, he needed me, my companionship, to feel, if only for a moment, that he belonged to someone. As we begin this journey into the wilderness of Lent, let us pray to be open to Jesus in all His distressing disguises.

— Anna Askounis

Ash Wednesday and our Lenten reflections

Please join us this Wednesday for our Ash Wednesday services at 7:30 am, 12:10 pm, 5:30 pm and 7:30 pm (with choir).

We will again bring you reflections each day written by members of the St. Paul's congregation. Each day's  reflection will post at midnight Eastern time for that day.

May you have a Holy Lent.