Thursday, March 2, 2017

“It’s About Time”

Homily for Ash Wednesday  1 March 2017
The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Rector
See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!                                                                                                     2 Corinthians 6:2b
We kick off Ash Wednesday with Paul’s motivational mantra: “Now is the acceptable time! Now is the day of salvation!”
In other words, Lent. It’s about time.
That’s because everywhere we look in Lent, we bump into time. Most obvious temporal factoid? Lent is roughly 40 days and 40 nights. But also, we begin Sundays in Lent — this coming Sunday — with Jesus fasting 40 days in the desert. And we continue with Jesus on his pre-meditated journey to Jerusalem — a countdown to confrontation, with fatal consequences.
And, of course, our liturgical calendar demarcates the Sundays in Lent in terms of time: The First Sunday in Lent, Second Sunday in Lent, and so on.
As Lent reaches its climax in Holy Week, we have the time-warping Triduum (“three days-in-one”): Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday — all hurtling toward the Easter Vigil — celebrated as one liturgical day.
Even more time-based number: Jesus’ hours on the cross are calibrated … from noon to 3 o’clock.
Lent, then, is about time, but time with a twist … because Lent is moving us into time that has yet to make it onto a clock — the future God is absolutely positive each of us can accomplish … if we begin each day with a twist on Paul’s mantra that plays as, “It’s about time I lived like ‘Now is the acceptable time! Now is the day of salvation!’”
But what does that mean?
Take “Now is the acceptable time.” Pretty straightforward. With apologies to Elvis, “It’s now or never.” Read: What are we waiting for?
But “now is the day of salvation” is a bit more problematic. It’s that word “salvation.” It’s been pretty tarnished by televangelists and other people who market the notion that salvation is all about being “saved” from the fires of hell. Talk about making people jittery. And making jittery people open their wallets. “Our operators are standing by.”
But what if salvation isn’t being saved from something, and instead, being saved for something? What if salvation means what Jesus — and Paul in 2 Corinthians — says it means? Union with God, being reconciled to God.
In other words, salvation isn’t about “getting your clock cleaned” by God … now … or at the end of your time on earth (death) … or the end of Time itself (the so-called Last Judgment).
Salvation is about striking up and nurturing a friendship with God … because doesn’t Jesus himself say the night before his death, “I no longer call you servants … but friends”?
From the lips of Jesus: friendship with God. It’s an idea whose time has come.
Consequently, the Church’s message in each of the roughly 40 days of Lent is: “Now is the day!” Not some day when it feels just right because this “isn’t a good time.”
Not some day when we’re in the mood or when the stars are in alignment.
But now is the day — this moment and each moment of Lent — now is the time for each of us to become close-closer-closest friends of God.
What will that look like?
Hint: Over each of the next 40 days-or-so of Lent, what is the most outrageous thing you can imagine that will make you a close-closer-closest friend of God?
Re-make your own self-image — spiritually, emotionally, and, yes, even physically? Well, get off the couch and on to the treadmill, for God’s sake!
Just a related sidebar on that score: This time of year, some people like to go on a diet or restrict their carbs intake or alcohol consumption — all under the banner of “giving something up for Lent.” Naysayers pooh-pooh this approach. They wheeze, “Lent isn’t about going on a diet.”
Bull pucky. Of course, Lent is — or can be — about going on a diet. Dieting is perfectly compatible with Lent … only we don’t call it a “diet.” We call it a “fast.” Renewing a “right spirit” … in our bodies.
As long as you don’t slide into anorexia, then, I think it’s just great to diet as a Lenten discipline … as long as … as long as it answers the question: “What kind of a body will give me the energy, the joy, the zest for living that will help me love God and my neighbor more and more, better and better, longer and longer?”
So, a rigorous Lenten fast: that might be the most outrageous thing you can imagine that will make you a close-closer-closest friend of God.
Or how about:
Revitalize your prayer life? (Or consider starting one.)
Re-align your relationships? (Ditch the Dementors!)
Re-tool your calendar (your priorities and how you spend your time)?
Re-acquaint yourself with Jesus (especially in the way he welcomes outcasts and works his fingers to the bone achieving justice for all our resource-stretched neighbors)?
And then there’s this outrageous thought: Re-think how you use resources that negatively impact the long-term sustainability of the planet God has given us to take care of and enjoy, in that order? Perhaps drive your car 20 percent less. Or reduce electricity and water use by 20 percent this Lent. Think of it as a carbon fast.
Or expand on your Lenten discipline from last year. Hike it up (as Buzz Lightyear trumpets in Toy Story) “to infinity and beyond!”
Oodles of future-realizing strategies to get on your calendar in the next 40 days and nights.
Complication: How will you upload these strategies off your calendar and into your head, heart, muscles, skin, and all the rest to make “infinity and beyond!” the new “normal”?
For starters, it will take prayer. Pray each morning in Lent for the creativity, the candor, and the challenges to discover the outrageous thing God is desperate to do in your life.
Ask God, in the words of Psalm 51: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Sustain me with your bountiful Spirit. Open my lips, O Lord, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.” Start with that prayer, and the rest will follow.
If that’s what Lent might look like for you, what won’t it look like?
It won’t look like the definition of history one of my seminary professors used to delight in skewering: “one damn thing after another.” Round and round and round, just one same-old-same-old, tedious experience after another. Yawn.
It will look more like a countdown to the future, an Easter-dawning future of new life for each of us and our neighbors.
Now is the time, then — this Lent — to show up at Mass ... engage in our Lenten Learning Series (“The Five Marks of Love”), beginning Thursday evening, March 9 ... help secure the future for one of our youngsters with your Lenten Offering. Now is the time to engage your heart, mind, and soul … here … with us at Saint Paul’s.
Because there is no better time. There is no other time. “Now is the acceptable time! Now is the day of salvation!”
Amen.