Sojourners all,

Walt Wangerin’s observation about the kinds of mirrors we encounter in life begins in hypothetical mode.  But everything shifts with his next sentence:  “My wife is such a mirror.” Suddenly, those hypothetical “mirrors of veracity” become real, and the consequences of sin in the most intimate relationship shows itself glaringly, truthfully.

Lent is a season of mirrors.  During these 40 days the layers that insulate us from the truth about ourselves, the truth about our human species, are slowly striped away until finally, standing naked before the One who formed us from the clay and breathed life into us, we see the truth.

“Oh, what a coward I am, and what a fool!  Only when I have the courage fully to look, clearly to know myself—even the evil of myself—will I admit my need for healing.  But If I look away from her whom I have hurt, I have also turned away from her who might forgive me.  I reject the very source of my healing.”

In the ancient baptismal rite of the early church, before descending into the waters, candidates turned their faces to the West and proclaimed their rejection of all the forces of evil, the devil and all his empty promises.  Then, turning eastward, they entered into the waters of rebirth and were washed in the name of the Triune God and given new names to match their new identity.  Emerging from the pool, fragrant with oil and wrapped in the white robe of Christ’s righteousness, they were ushered into the community for their first Eucharistic feast.  It was an experience that helped to recast their lives, to form them and to graft them unto Christ the Vine.  These profound symbols and actions helped bind the newly baptized to their new way of being in the world, a way toward which the world was deeply hostile.  These same symbols still call to us, forming the core of our identity as Christians in this 21^st century.

Before we can say YES to God, we must say NO to all that would separate us from God—from within and without. The journey of Lent is, in part, about gazing into that mirror.  But that’s not its only purpose.  If we come away from this Lenten sojourn knowing only what is wrong with us, only beating our breasts in shame and sorrow, then the season will be incomplete and, finally, of little value.  The grace of this season is that this is not the only thing the mirror shows us.  Gazing into the mirror with Christ there beside us, we see the tremendous truth of his grace and forgiveness.  His self-emptying on the cross shows in fullest measure the lengths God is willing to go to embrace this errant race and turn us toward healing.  His resurrection affirms the truth that death and decay will not have the final word; that transformation is God’s ultimate goal.

As we look into the mirror this season provides, we look with an honesty born of the cross and a hope born of the resurrection.  And through this lens we see more than our shortcomings and needs—we see our gifts and our vocation.  We live toward the promise that “when anyone is in Christ there is a new creation…and everything has become new.” (2 Cor. 5:17)  This is our journey.  What a profound privilege that we can make it together.

With you on the way.

Pastor Erik