A CURIOUS THING happened among many congregations in my very white denomination after George Floyd was killed: Churches that had been at best timid to enter the work of racial justice dove into it headfirst. Colleagues dusted off their blogs to share their thoughts. Church leaders laced up their sneakers to participate in marches. It appeared that a reckoning had occurred for countless people in the faith. They finally got it and could no longer stay silent, not while a global pandemic amplified the existing inequities in our society. It was time to act.
This would seem like good and right action, except many began this work having previously wounded leaders of color who’d tried for years to call them into it. Worse yet, there was little to no attempt to remedy their errors or circle back with the people they’d hurt. They were eager to move toward action but had to be reminded that the past still needed to be addressed before the future could be entered with justice.
If there is a “right” way to approach Lent, it involves holding our past and future in tension. The Greek words for repentance and reconciliation both connote a reciprocal change. The person on a wayward path makes a U-turn. The transgressor trades places with the transgressed. Our texts challenge us to examine who we have been, are, and are willing to become, because all of it matters to the future we will build.
March 6
Reputation Repair
Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16; Romans 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13
LEST WE BEGIN our Lenten observance believing whatever we do in the coming 40 days will alone justify us, our texts aim to properly shape our soteriology, our salvation-thinking. Each of our readings in this first week establish the salvific purview of God alone. They also encourage us to have faith in God’s sovereignty and love for us.
We begin our fasts with the account of Jesus’ 40-day fast in the wilderness, recalling Israel’s 40 years in the wilderness. Deuteronomy 26:1-11 establishes the ritual remembrance of God’s liberating act and helps us remember the details of the story. The word the Greek text uses for what Jesus goes through in the wilderness is peirazo, which means to analyze a thing or determine whether something can be done. Jesus’ character was being examined. His desert experience shows what he is made of, which may be instructive to us. In our fasting, we are to be concerned about our mettle rather than winning a piety contest. It is as important to examine why we transgress as it is to refrain from transgressing. Lent should reveal our character as Jesus’ test revealed his.
Psalm 91 and Romans 10 reassure us of God’s generosity in salvation. Those who call upon God’s name will be saved. The “name” of God refers to God’s character. Calling upon God’s name means leaning into and trusting in God’s reputation, drawing nearer to God and away from the destruction of sin.
In Howard Thurman’s 1980 baccalaureate address at Spelman College, he spoke of the need to find one’s own name: “Who are you? How does the sound of the genuine come through to you?” Lent prayerfully draws us closer to the “sound of the genuine” in ourselves and the parts of us we should amplify or allow God to remedy.
March 13
Grief and Visions
Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35
AFTER BREONNA TAYLOR'S death in 2020, I found myself drawn to the story of Mamie Till-Mobley and how her actions, after her son Emmett was lynched, catalyzed the civil rights movement of the mid-20th century. I often use art to process grief and decided to paint the story of the day she received her son’s body and decided his funeral must be open casket. I found an interview where she spoke of a powerful encounter with what she believed was the presence of God. While crying out to God on the eve of that day, her bedroom filled with smoke. A voice spoke to her saying that though this one child was taken from her, she would receive thousands. Her vision recalls the promise God makes to Abram (Genesis 15:5)—promises both had trouble believing.
Grief and parental imagery permeate these texts. The readings invite us into a trust that spites the apparent circumstances. The psalmist names the threats against him but centers his trust in God. Abram is reassured that God has not forgotten the promises made to him, despite how things may look. Jesus describes a maternal anguish God has toward Herod’s posturing and Jerusalem’s intransigence, even as he faces imminent threat there. Paul is similarly anguished about the destruction that awaits those who oppose the gospel.
In her interview, Till-Mobley said the voice also told her that God’s son died that we might have life, but her son died so that we might decide what kind of people we want to be. This is the question Lent poses to us: Who and whose will we be? She never birthed another child, but I believe those who answer the question by trusting God and seeking justice are her children—
and God’s.
March 20
Character Tests
Isaiah 55:1-9; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9
AT THE BEGINNING of Lent, Jesus’ character was tested in the wilderness. This week, Paul speaks to the church at Corinth about testing and warns them about their own character. He recalls the calamity that befell some of the Israelites who, while traversing the wilderness on the way to Canaan, complained and rebelled against God. Do not be like them, Paul warns. The church had been engaging in toxic behaviors while claiming Christ. They may be under God’s covering, but they are ever in danger because of their character.
Character produces results. In the gospel reading, Jesus uses recent tragedies to make a point about sin. The tendency then (and even now) was to try to rationalize why horrible things happen, and the conclusion often reached is that sin had somehow caused it. Jesus provides a sobering and equalizing perspective. Those who’d recently perished at the tower collapse in Siloam or been victim to Pilate’s abomination were not worse off than anybody else. They weren’t chief among sinners. Tragedy befalls the just and unjust alike. You are, however, assured of your own destruction unless you turn away from destructive behaviors. Jesus offers the parable of the fig tree that produced nothing for three years and is nearly destroyed.
In this week’s text from Deutero-Isaiah, Judah’s exiles were admonished to stop pursuing material things that don’t matter and “seek the Lord while [God] may be found.” God’s thoughts and ways are not like ours. The Lenten journey is toward more Godlike thoughts and ways. We are to become better reflections of the God who has claimed and redeemed us. This God calls sternly for repentance while freely and willingly offering forgiveness. When we assume the psalmist’s posture of meditating on God’s way day and night (Psalm 63:6), we will find satisfaction for our souls and a change in our character.
March 27
Kiss and Make Up?
Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 32; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3,11-32
EACH OF THIS week’s texts deal with reconciliation and restoration. Joshua 5 describes how Israel has entered a new epoch in their history and the “disgrace” of their enslavement has been rolled away. The psalmist talks of his restoration after confessing his sins before God. The gospel is the familiar parable of the prodigal who wastes his inheritance but is forgiven and restored to his family.
When we think of reconciliation, we often think of people coming together despite past conflict and “kissing and making up.” In Radical Reconciliation: Beyond Political Pietism and Christian Quietism , Allan Boesak and Curtiss Paul DeYoung challenge this notion. Coming together is the result of reconciliation but is not itself the process of reconciliation. True reconciliation comes on the heels of justice. If someone has been wronged, it is disingenuous to say, “Let’s kiss and make up.” Doing so asks the wronged to ignore their plight and pain. If injustice persists, restoration for either party is impossible. Reconciliation happens when people turn away from their harmful courses. Another word for this turning away is repentance. Such repentance places all parties on equal footing, and reconciliation can only occur among equals.
Paul wrote to the church at Corinth that we no longer regard anyone from a human point of view. We now see everyone as God sees them. If anyone is in Christ, they are new and are embraced by God as family. They stand on higher ground, simply because they are loved by God and they follow Christ. This reconciliation is indeed radical because we are the ones who had fallen away. We are the prodigals, and yet, we’re lifted above the messes we’ve made so that we can behold the One who loves us eye to eye.

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