Choosing the Light this Lent

The Lord is my light and my salvation;

whom then shall I fear? *

the Lord is the strength of my life;

of whom then shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1

The weather over the past few days has made it difficult to feel anything but hopeful. On Saturday, several of us gathered at the Bishop Jones Center for a Lenten Quiet Day. Actively choosing to set time aside in such a beautiful setting was a gift to us all. The act of slowing down and embracing silence helps us notice things we might otherwise miss.

During one of our silent periods, I sat beside the bubbling fountain. It was peaceful; the sunlight warmed my face, and I felt particularly centered when, out of nowhere, a small, energetic black dog came bounding toward me. She dipped her mouth into the water for a drink, then, without hesitation, plunged in with great exuberance! Upon hearing her owner call her name—Tilly, in case you were wondering—she immediately leapt out, shook her fur coat, and bounded off with the same joy with which she had arrived. What initially felt like a surprising disruption turned into a moment of pure delight. That delight was such a gift, and I thought to myself, “I hope I can jump into the waters of life before me with that much abandon and joy.”

I’m not feeling particularly penitential this Lent. There is plenty of worry and fear in the world, but I don’t think a spiritual discipline of heaviness is necessary to make me aware of all that needs redemption. Instead, my Lenten discipline is about holding the dark and the light in equal measure. It means I must actively search for the light and allow it to shine as joyful resistance to all that would make us lose hope.

Jack Gilbert, the author of the poem I included in my Ash Wednesday sermon, A Brief for the Defense, challenges us to “risk delight.” The world’s sorrow and sadness should not be all that we carry. He writes, “We can do without pleasure, but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world.”

Perhaps God calls us to inhabit the spiritual disciplines of joy, gladness, and gratitude, particularly during challenging times. Jesus is the light of the world, and as fellow light-bearers, agreeing to bear witness is an important calling. What gladness are you naming this Lent? Find a way to share your light alongside the laments of your heart.

Peace, Beth +