The approach of Lent always leaves me a little ambivalent. The word “Lent” comes from the Old English “lencten” because the days lengthen perceptibly as we go through the season, and I confess that I love those longer days. On the other hand, Lent is a penitential season, and I’m not sure how I should feel about that.

I came across the following short poem about Lent that describes the problem:

"It is the season of
ashes and lashes
when it’s gray outside
and purple inside …
when we feel guilty about
not feeling guilty"

that is, everything except the last part – because, being a good Lutheran, I do feel guilty.

Something about Lent, perhaps the re-experiencing of the Passion, makes me feel like He hasn’t risen, the Victory hasn’t been won, that Death still has dominion, not until Easter comes again – and all of these are very much not true. He has Risen – one job of Lent is to understand how your life is changed by that, how you can arise, too. The Victory has been won – why aren’t you celebrating? Death has no dominion – so why are we paralyzed by the fear of death?

During the Lenten season this year, we are trying a bit of an experiment. Pastor Wendy and I will be working together on a preaching and teaching series. The aim is to enlist the congregation as a support to families in passing on the faith, by passing on ideas and occasions for caring conversations, for devotions that families can do together, for ways that families can serve together and how families can develop or reinforce rituals and traditions.

This preaching and teaching series seems uniquely appropriate for us at Saint Nicholas. One thing I noticed right away about our congregation and about Calvert County, and that I always mention to people who live other places, is that “Calvert County is a place where families haven’t given up trying to be families.” This seems to me to be uniquely precious. Some of these families are empty-nesters like Linda and me, while others are singles and part of a multigenerational family, or families with younger or older children. Regardless of their configurations, our families seem conscious of the great joy and great responsibility of being places where faith and manners, civility and kindness, conversation and caring are practiced and perfected, as much as they can be this side of the Great Feast.

I sometimes think that in many places families are bowed down by the demands of peer groups and sports, constant media stimulation and constant/instant communication (cell phone, instant messaging, email, all instantaneously and simultaneously demanding attention), fractionalized responsibility and minimized morality – that families are so bowed down by all of these things that they give up being families and settle for something less – maybe a loose alliance of people going in roughly the same direction, or an indistinct tribe, or just a mob with the same address. I’m not blaming them, but I do hope for better for us.

This Lenten season, join with us as we learn about what “better” might look like and how it might work. Because He is Risen, and the Victory which we recount during Lent is indeed won, there is hope for us, there is community for us, as families and as the Body of Christ. Come and see.

Pastor Greg