Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. Luke 4:1-2

As Lent begins, we have repented, and have been marked as a sign of our desire to lead a new life. There has been a recognition of our mortality; life will not last forever, new life will. The mistakes of the past will not determine our future.

Hungry for God, we stand face to face with the extent of the brokenness in our lives. Our thirst for control, power, and to prove something is stronger than we thought. The mark on our foreheads has already worn out, no longer visible, yet still at work in us. The Spirit is leading us through this wilderness. We are not alone!

How do we resist these ingrained tendencies and voices?

Jesus knew the rhythms of his religious tradition. He knew the words, movements and actions that had been time tested for generations. The saints that had gone before had made their mark, even to the present day.

Liturgy is repetitive — it has to be! In that repetition the rhythms and movement of the Christian faith become a part of of who we are, become the instrument of healing the deep brokenness. Dan Benedict says it this way:

In the Liturgy we know God and experience God’s power to shape our lives and move us from the old selves to participation in the new creation.  (Patterned by Grace, 24-25)

In some ways our participation in the patterns of the liturgical life mirrors Jesus’ wanderings in the desert where the pattern of his community’s worship life guided him in faithful response to the devil’s constant offers of synthetic life.

On Ash Wednesday we were invited to go on this journey. We carry with us the instruments that will guide our way: prayer, fasting, and giving to the poor. On this first Sunday of Lent we know that the liturgy provides us with the cadences needed for this transformative journey. Just as Jesus walked in the wilderness with the Spirit as guide, so do we. We are not alone, and I believe that in the end the pattern of our liturgical life paves the way for our continual encounter with the risen Christ.

As we begin this journey of Lent I invite you to hear carefully the rhythms of your community’s worship:
+ Where are the words that will help you fight off your deepest tendencies towards brokenness?
+ What are the songs, prayers , and movements that come to the forefront in the midst of our times of wilderness?
+ What patterns will pave the way to the risen Christ?

All my life I wish I broke mirrors instead of promises
Cause all I see is a shattered conscience staring right back at me
–Owl City, “Tidal Wave”

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel adequate to the task that has been set before me. I don’t think it is that I’m unmotivated, ignorant, or incompetent. The remedy isn’t motivation or inspiration, knowledge or a better grasp of the principles, skill training or workshops in my profession.

The problem is sin.

More specifically, the broken relationship between myself and God which infects and corrupts everything and everyone I touch. I see it as I struggle within my soul as I struggle to perceive and respond to God. I see it in my relationships as my lack of care, self-absorption, and failed intentions conspire to damage even those I love the most. I see it as I fail to act justly towards exploited creation and people.

So Ash Wednesday has become something good for me. Lent is an exciting time of year now, neither oppresive nor scary. Why?

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Repent and believe the Gospel.”

The liturgical act of ashing and these words spoken over each & every person of faith assembled gives me new life. Bizarre! But it couples together three central truths of Christian faith in word & sign.

“Remember that you are dust”
We are created. Not a one of us made ourselves, or even asked for it. In this, we are in solidarity with every single person in the world, every part, plant, and planet in existence. And our creation was neither accidental nor malevolent but out of love.

“and to dust you shall return.”
We are mortal & finite. The lives we have will end, like everyone else. Even our works & sub-creations will cease. I love Percy Bysse Shelley’s famous sonnet “Ozymandias” for its expose of our arrogance and pride. The other side of this is that our sin will also cease. Our brokenness, failures, and pain will end as well.

“Repent and believe the Gospel.”
And the good news comes now, that the stuff in between belongs to God as well. What Jesus does in life, death, resurrection, and ascension means we are chosen by God. “Christ is God’s never-changing Yes.” We are never out of God’s love: so our responsibility is to respond. Repent. Believe.

So I love this time in the liturgical calendar. Not because I get to abuse my body, or buy my way into God’s good graces, but because all my effort-full facades are revealed for the shams that they are. And I can truly turn away from the idol of self-sufficiency and rest in God’s impossibly unbounded love.

Being a pastor makes this sense of failure & responsibility stronger. Maybe that’s why I like Owl City’s “Tidal Wave” so much [Listen on blip.fm]. It evokes all of my frailty and failure, the shattered conscience staring right back at me. But then…

Then I was given grace and love
I was blind but now I can see
Cause I’ve found a new hope from above
And courage swept over me…
The end is uncertain
And I’ve never been so afraid
But I don’t need a telescope to see that there’s hope
And that makes me feel brave

May faith, hope, and love find you — and me — when we least expect it…and give us the courage to follow God’s lead, during Lent and into the “world without end.” +

This image was taken in January 2006 at Whitby Abbey, Yorkshire, England. The road winding alongside a stone wall until it disappears into the horizon suggests the kind of journey which the Church undertakes at this time.

Just remember, the banner’s protected under our Creative Commons license!

We are excited about possibilities for the upcoming year. We’re especially looking forward to our Lent series, which this year will focus on the mystery of Christian Initiation: catechesis. This will be anchored by some guest bloggers, most notably Taylor Burton-Edwards OSL, Director of Worship Resources for the General Board of Discipleship of the United Methodist Church.

We’re still looking for field reports on innovative, contextualized, tradition-catapulted-into-contemporary-situations worship; the first of these will be coming up at the end of January, on a baptismal liturgy for firefighters…in the firehouse!

If you are interested in writing for LN, please contact us at liturgicalnerds [at] gmail [dot] com or hook up with us on Twitter @LiturgicalNerds — we look forward to this new year together, in the holy name of Jesus Christ:

Almighty God,
whose blessed Son was circumcised
in obedience to the law for our sake
and given the Name that is above every name:
give us grace faithfully to bear his Name,
to worship him in the freedom of the Spirit,
and to proclaim him as the Saviour of the world;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Collect for the Naming & Circumcision of Jesus from Common Worship