LENTEN REFLECTIONS
-- by The Rev. Dr. Paul Tunkle
-- by The Rev. Beverly Braine
-- by The Rev. Linda Kerr
-- by The Rev. Michael Stone

By The Rev. Dr. Paul Tunkle

Thank God it's Lent! An odd statement at first glance. One that was commonly heard in Louisiana. After all the frenzy and activity of the Mardi Gras season, people in Louisiana were eager to embrace the austerity and discipline of Lent. They came in great numbers to the services on Ash Wednesday, and forswore their excesses for the entire season.

We too might say, "Thank God it's Lent." The human experience is a rhythm of feasting and fasting, of times of plenty and times of want, of songs of joy and sounds of silence. We need a time set aside to slow down, to look within, to listen for the stillness and subtlety of the movement of the Holy Spirit. Jesus sought times when he could be alone with God in solitary prayer. He sought times when he could connect with the spiritual center of his life and ministry. He experienced spiritual exhaustion and was drained of his energy and resources by the crowds and their demands.

We likewise sense that there must be time for the matters of the Spirit. Some of us may be sufficiently self disciplined that we make time each day to be still and know that God is God. I struggle with this and I need Lent. My Lent doesn't always coincide with the church's calendar. My season for prayer and self examination may come at another time of year. But this year, with the excitement of Advent, Christmas and New Ministry, I am hungry for Lent. I need time to step back from all the activity and be reminded of who I am. Not the Rector of the Church of the Redeemer, but simply a child of God. Reclaiming my identity in Christ will make be a better and more faithful rector for the parish. I invite you to join me in being reminded of who we really are. Thank God it's Lent.

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By The Rev. Beverly Braine
I count myself fortunate, indeed, to live in an area which experiences marked changing of the seasons. The changes give me opportunity to reflect on the internal "seasons" of my existence. There is a rhythm created by the changings, each season offering a different mood and level of activity. I like the fact that Lent coincides , where we live, with winter. Coming to and going from Redeemer, I travel through some of the lovely rolling countryside of north Baltimore County. I enjoy that part of my drive, especially in winter, as the contour of the ground is plainly visible through the trees of the woods. This gives me the opportunity to reflect on "ground," on the basics of existence, on what is at the root of who I am and what I believe.

Lent, I believe, is the season of "grounding," for feeling the solid ground of a loving God, who accepts me as I am, and who, at the same time, calls me to even deeper faith. The stillness of our winter/Lent gives me opportunity for inner stillness, for calm, for centering, for prayer which can wordlessly put me in the presence of God. At the same time, this season which exhibits apparent barrenness, we know, holds the potential for the springing forth of new growth, new life, new birth. And so we know that our winter/Lent is not forever. But it is for now, and what a gift. I cherish the opportunity to be in winter, to be in Lent, to be still and know that God is in the quiet.†

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IN THE DESERT:
AN OASIS OF HOPE
" the desert shall rejoice and blossom!" Isaiah 35:1

-by The Rev. Linda L. Kerr

In the Desert there is LIFE: hidden within the crags of rocks, connected to secret water sources, sheltered within thick-skinned, prickly plants and their callous fruit. Those who know the mysteries of the Desert call it 'home.' Others become hopelessly lost in the rugged and alien landscape.

During the summer of 1999, I explored Turkey under the leadership of the distinguished Israeli archaeologist, Avner Goran. Goran is highly respected for the integrity of his work in the Sinai desert. For 19 years he pursued his research and raised four children in the desert where Bedouin neighbors became trusted friends. Goran's desert stories challenge me to probe the secrets of the Desert: geographical and spiritual.
Lent calls us to love the deserts of our lives. Deserts teach lessons about the unexpected nearness of God, about the blessing of a spiritually sustainable lifestyle less encumbered and insulated by material things, about the hidden resources that will never fail us - even when the journey becomes unbearably dry, long and strenuous.

Soon we will leave the Lenten Desert, clinging thankfully to its lessons. Perhaps it is these very lessons that sustain Jesus as the lush palm branches brush his shoulders during the parade of temptation. Perhaps the whispering winds of his Desert experiences speak to him of hope and new life - life waiting to blossom from the hard wood of the cross.

"Blessed is the One who comes
in the name of the Lord" !

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By The Rev. Michael Stone

The following is a piece by the Rev. Martin Bell, a retired Episcopal priest. Martin was one of the earliest and most profound influences on my spiritual development as a young adult. I was introduced to his work at a critical time in my Christian formation and have returned to it many times since. I have given away hundreds of copies of his books over the years. When I ran across this piece and realized that I wanted to use it here, I realized there was not time to write for permission. Inspired by my desire to use it nonetheless, I called Martin at his home in Michigan. He was delighted to give his permission - and I was delighted to have the chance to tell him what a powerful influence his work has had on me for over three decades.

Wood
     Something like an eternity ago, human beings got all caught up in the illusion that being human is a relatively unimportant sort of proposition. Here today-gone tomorrow. A vale of tears-that sort of foolishness.
     What's more tragic, of course, is that in the wake of this basic error there quickly followed the idea that human beings are expendable, which easily degenerated into the proposition that some human beings are expendable. Certain human beings are expendable. Really bad guys are expendable. Guys with low I.Q.'s are expendable. Anyone who disagrees with me is expendable. A long time ago, human beings got all caught up in the illusion that being human is a relatively unimportant sort of proposition.
     Well, that's not true. It's wrong. All wrong. And it has always been wrong. From the creation of the heavens and the earth, it has been-wrong. There is nothing more important than being human. Our lives have eternal significance. And no one-absolutely no one-is expendable.

Nails
     Jesus was dead. He was dead and buried. It was expedient that he should be dead and buried. Caiaphas had explained that to himself and to others over and over again. It is expedient, he said, that one man should die for the sake of the people. Jesus is expendable. Caiaphas suffered from the illusion that being human is relatively unimportant. And so Jesus was dead.
     What happened then wasn't so remarkable, really. God simply raised Jesus from the dead. He merely walked into the tomb that we call insignificance and absurdity, and meaninglessness, and other such names as that-he merely walked into this tomb and raised Jesus from the dead.
There was nothing very spectacular or remarkable about this. God revealed the same God who created the heavens and the earth and called his creation good; the same God who led his people out of Egypt to be a light to the nations; the same God who affirmed David in his weakness; who called forth the prophets; who kindled the heart of John the Baptist; and who reached out to touch his tiny children in the person of Jesus Christ.
God raised Jesus from the dead to the end that we should be clear-once and for all-that there is nothing more important than being human. Our lives have eternal significance. And no one-absolutely no one-is expendable.

Colored Eggs
     Some human beings are fortunate enough to be able to color eggs on Easter. If you have a pair of hands to hold the eggs, or if you are fortunate enough to be able to see the brilliant colors, then you are twice blessed. This Easter some of us cannot hold the eggs, others of us cannot see the colors, many of us are unable to move at all-and so it will be necessary to color eggs in our hearts.
     This Easter there is a hydrocephalic child lying very still in a hospital bed nearby with a head the size of his pillow and vacant, unmoving eyes, and he will not be able to color Easter eggs, and he will not be able to color Easter eggs in his heart, and so God will have to color eggs for him.
      And God will color eggs for him. You can bet your life and the life of the created universe on that.
      At the cross of Calvary God reconsecrated and sanctified wood and nails and absurdity and helplessness to be continuing vehicles of his love. And then he simply raised Jesus from the dead. And they both went home and colored eggs.

May your life be "reconsecrated and sanctified," and may these fifty days of Eastertide be a joyous and blessed time for you and all those whom you love.
                    -The Rev. Michael Stone†

"Wood and Nails and Colored Eggs," from The Way of the Wolf (copyright 1970) is printed here with permission of the author. The Way of the Wolf is available through Ballantine Books. Further information can be found at barringtonbunny.com.

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