The
other day I was sitting in bed with my morning coffee watching the news when
the cup landed in my lap. I leaped up
with a screech as it was hot, and a screech as it was on my iPad and a screech
as I was stunned. Once I was standing,
everything saved; I looked at my hand and saw that I was still gripping the
handle of my mug. Broken.
Lent is a time of self-examination.
It is a time when we evaluate our lives and our living as individuals and in
relation to others. Once we begin this
time of reflection often we see what is broken.
Some of what we see does not surprise us, like the finicky light switch
that needs to be jiggled just right to turn on.
Other things appear to us in a new light and what once seemed whole has
shadows of lines and cracks; its fragility is exposed. Then there are the times
when the hot coffee dumps in your lap, the times when there was no predicting
what is about to happen.
As
we journey to the cross through Lent, we are reminded of the brokenness that
Christ was speaking of when he lifted the bread and tore it in half. “..The Lord Jesus took the loaf of bread, and
when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is
given (broken) for you. Do this in
remembrance of me.’” (1 Corinthians 11:23-24)
We are on the other side of the
story; benefactors of the meal between Jesus and his friends. We can see that what once was broken can be
made whole again. Of course what the new
whole looks like will not be the same, but there can be beauty in the scars
that remain after healing.
Lent is not only a time of somber
reflection but also a time to imagine new beginnings. This is a time to
recognize that the pain of what has been "dumped" in our laps can be
an opportunity to begin again. This is a
time to "mop up", "stitch up" and lift our heavy laden feet
as we join Jesus on his journey to the cross. As we walk with him through Lent we may find
comfort in knowing that he walks with us, the broken and weary, the full and
lighthearted. Christ meets us where we
are and asks that we remember him.
