By Rev. Eugenia Gamble
I am not naturally good at letting go. I am good at denial, running, rewriting history,
burying pain, putting on a brave face, and clinging for dear life to whatever and whoever I
love or value. I am not nearly as good at letting go. Letting go often feels like defeat to me,
or scraping the scab off of submerged grief, unsustainable goals or ego blindness. What I
am tentatively learning is that letting go when needed (just as clinging, or not giving up
when called for) is a source of energy and renewal. It is a grace that makes space for the
best that is always God’s will for us in every moment.
Throughout the centuries of the church’s life it has been a common practice during
the forty days, plus Sundays, leading up to Easter Day, for the faithful to ‘give up something’
as a sign of devotion. Often those commitments fade fast. Even if we do remain steadfast,
the practice often becomes a dogged exercise of self will that leaves us rushing to the Seven
Eleven for Twinkies as soon as the clock ticks past midnight on Easter morning. While God
blesses all attempts at faithfulness, I do wonder about how much the kingdom actually
hinges on our ability to refrain from sugar, broccoli or cussing for forty days only to become
more focused on those things by the very act of denying them.
Of all the seasons of the church year, in my view, Lent is the one with the possibility
of the most profound and lasting change in our lives and world. It is a time for penitence,
which is, in large measure, simply a time for internal and external honesty in the quest for
righteousness. In Jesus’ native language of Aramaic the word we translate as righteousness
means internal honesty and integrity within the heart that is then expressed in moral living
that produces justice for all. Wow. That is the Lenten quest. Remember as you prepare to
enter into this sacred walk, that letting go is not a goal in and of itself. Letting go of that
which damages us, harms others or thwarts our growth is always for the purpose of
making room for unstoppable grace. We see this perhaps most clearly in Jesus’ last days on
earth and the profound magnificent mystery of His death defying resurrection. So as you
ponder in these days you might ask yourself what you need to relinquish to move from
doom to new life, from heartache to love songs, from pain to blessing.
Remember, too, that penitence is not about feeling shame or sorrow, even though
those feelings may surface when we look with honesty at our lives. Rather, though, it is
about doing things differently, creating space for that to happen. Repentance/letting go and
turning around is like a muscle we exercise with our minds, bodies and souls. It is not a
wallowing thing, or a quid pro quo “I’m sorry so now you have to fix everything I have
messed up” kind of thing. Rather, it is an enormous grace that releases pent up pain and
deepens our capacity for transformation, all while strengthening our sense of security and
wellbeing.
The devotions I have prepared this year draw loosely on the experience of Jesus in
his time in the wilderness, and the temptations or testing he faced there. There is not a
specific scripture to begin each day in this series so it might be helpful as you start to read
the story in its entirety in Luke 4:1-13 or Matthew 4:1-11. Those are the texts that have
largely guided these reflections. If you would like to have a short focused passage to start
each day, Mark 1:12-13 gives us a short and roomy version that might be a helpful
grounding each day.
One final thing that may be helpful. The scriptures never define evil exactly. Evil is
known by its fruits, just as faith is. Our ancestors developed a kind of litmus test for
deciding if something truly was evil. Something was considered evil if it resulted in any one
or more of three things. Something was evil if it made faith difficult. Anything that made it
hard to trust in God, and particularly God’s interest in us, presence with us and God’s
ultimate goodness was an evil. A second criteria for discerning evil was to decide if the
thing or action obscured the glory of God. The glory of God was understood as God’s
magnificence, God’s radiance and God’s unfathomable Oneness. That which either gets in
the way of our seeing that, or makes God somehow look bad, was considered evil. The
ancients saw hypocrisy as an example of this. For example, saying we believe something
then acting in ways that contradict our beliefs thereby making God look bad was
considered evil. Finally, something was considered evil if it made praise difficult. So as you
think about each day’s topic, ask yourself if experiencing it makes faith difficult for you,
obscures the glory of God for you, (and emanating from you) and if it makes it difficult for
you to live in a stance of praise. If so, trying saying to yourself, I let go of this character trait,
choice or experience. I do not need this pain and I now commit to turning and going a
different way. Know as you do so that you are creating space for grace that will come in the
perfect way at the perfect time.