A sermon* for the First Sunday of Lent, March 6, 2022
Dt 26:4-10, Rom 10:8-13, Lk 4:1-13
It’s easy to give up chocolate for Lent if you don’t like chocolate or if it gives you zits.
It’s easy to abstain from meat on Fridays if you love Chilean sea bass.
It’s easy to be kind to other people if you don’t come in contact with anyone while isolating because of COVID.
But is Lent supposed to be easy?
Trick question, perhaps.
It’s been a long time since anyone was actually expected to wander the dusty dirt streets of their village wearing sackcloth and ashes, flogging themselves and crying out, “Lord, have pity on me, a sinner!” during these 40 days.
Lent is intended for us to dust ourselves off, give up the things that lead us away from a holy and wholly fulfilling life, and get our acts together.
To turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel.
Spring cleaning for the soul and psyche.
So it’s a beautiful thing if this task is easy for us, because it means we haven’t strayed too far from The Way. A minor course correction will suffice, and God bless us for that.
And if we are significantly off course, heading for a spiritual iceberg, we have the Holy Spirit and the community we know as Church to help us steer clear and not sink to the depths.
Ah, Community.
Ah, Church.
So let’s get practical, and ask ourselves:
How many people do we actually know when we gather to celebrate Mass or any of the sacraments on any given Sunday or any other time?
Not just know their names — though that’s a beautiful start — but know a little bit about them? Their likes and dislikes, their commitment to peace and justice, the joys and especially the troubles in their lives?
Throughout the two years’ isolation while we beat back the coronavirus, we had implicit permission to distance ourselves, despite the oft-repeated slogan “We’re All In This Together.”
All together in boxes on a Zoom screen while being miles apart, probably.
So for Lent 2022, here are some things to give up that will help steer us back toward the light at the end of the tunnel that is the Face of God:
Let’s give up isolation when possible. Be kind to everyone, especially strangers; they too are children of God, created in Their image. And let’s once and for all give up judging other people, as Jesus commanded us.
Let’s give up the overscheduling that lays one frantic activity on top of another, and open up some time for personal prayer and reflection, and for a chance to seek out people in need. The world is full of them — Ukraine, Afghanistan, the Middle East and more — and our hometowns are, too. We know what we can afford to do with our time and treasures. It’s the season of prayer, fasting and charity, so let’s do it.
Let’s give up ignorance about who the people we meet in church are. We need to get to Mass (or services) a couple of minutes early and introduce ourselves to folks we may not know. Ask “How are you doing?” and listen for a real answer. “Finenyu” is a dodge. Let’s delve deeper if possible.
Let’s give up being alone. We really are all in this together.
Let’s give up our comfort zones.
When we do something hard, Lent is easy.
* A sermon differs from a homily because a homily usually breaks open Scripture and relates it to life and issues a call to action, whereas a sermon is a bit of speechifying about a spiritual or moral topic, with or without a direct tie-back to the Bible.
