Churched
West Franklin Family,
We Baptist’s are pretty good at celebrating Christmas and Easter. The other parts of the Christian calendar? Well, if you’re like me, a bit of education wouldn’t hurt. For instance, did you know according to the Christian calendar we are currently smack dab in the middle of Lent? Now. I get it. Most of us associate Lent with the Catholic faith and other denominations. At least I do. But what if the six weeks between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday were intended to remind Christians of their frailty? And what if being reminded of this is actually a good thing? I mean, who doesn’t need to be reminded and relieved of the heavy, impossible burden that every human being needs help?
Consider what this author says about Lent:
Lent is this big beautiful purple ocean of sadness. The Church takes us into her arms and says, “Oh you grieve? I grieve too.” It is in this season specifically that our nagging questions rise to the top. Will our regrets define the landscape of our lives? Can we possibly outrun our shame? Are we the only lonely ones in the room? Lent is the moment when we sit in the worn down pews where generations of rear ends have rested and we collectively ask what will become of us.
Lent is a season for grief and weakness. And if you are not feeling one of those things then you might be feeling both. Lent is not telling us to fix what is wrong with us, it is telling us that we cannot. It is a season when it is okay to admit that kneeling in a cavernous church is the most honest posture you can take. And that even the slightest bit of control we think we have is fleeting.
I love that. “Lent is not telling us to fix what is wrong with us, it is telling us that we cannot.” I am not sure about you, but my soul needs this. It allows me to exhale. If I’m not careful, it might even allow me the chance to truly grasp the wonder of Easter. If I can’t fix myself, who can? Yes. Only the resurrected Jesus.
With this in mind, I came across an article in The Atlantic that piqued my Lenten curious interest. A working mom (Molly Jong-Fast) writes to other working moms about another working mom – Supreme Court nominee Ketanji Brown Jackson. The article struck me due to the fact that Jong-Fast noticed the “mom guilt” Judge Jackson expressed in one of her statements this week during her hearings. Jong-Fast picks up on the obvious guilt Jackson feels about working all the time at the neglect of her daughters. She proceeds to write about her mother’s expressed guilt when she was a teenager, and now her own guilt toward her own children. Here is how Jong-Fast concludes:
I’ve been sober for 24 years, but sometimes late at night, I also want to go into my kids’ rooms and apologize to them for not being the mother I wish I was. My children are the age I was when I remember my mother apologizing to me. I wouldn’t ask them to assuage my guilt, but I understand the temptation to. So many mothers do.
My own mom has memory problems these days, and some pieces of the world are getting lost, slipping through the cracks in her memory. But when we talk on the phone, she’ll still apologize to me. She may not remember my childhood dog Poochini, but she still wants me to know that she tried her best. Even as names escape her, the guilt never will.
If that’s not revealing enough, she included this:
when Jackson repeated a similar sentiment in the halls of the Senate, I realized that while America has changed since my mother’s era, our collective maternal guilt hasn’t necessarily lifted. If confirmed, the Harvard-educated, eminently accomplished Jackson will have earned her place in history as the first Black woman on the Supreme Court. Yet she—like so many of us—still appears to be grappling with how to have it all.
If you are paying attention, this writer for The Atlantic is being remarkably honest about life: we all grapple with how to have it all (knowing we can’t), and we all – all of us – wrestle with constant feelings of guilt and shame. If I didn’t know any better, I would think I was reading a Christian Lenten Devotional. The season of Lent and Supreme Court nominee hearings remind us that we are weak. We are guilty. We know we can’t have it all, but we continue to try. It all reminds us to ache with the Apostle Paul: “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” We have an answer. Yes. We have an answer. It’s not you. It’s not me. It’s not being a perfect mom. It’s not having a prestigious job like being nominated to the Supreme Court. None of this will ultimately rescue. In fact, some of this striving only exacerbates the problem. We can’t be or have it all. We can only believe we need rescue. It’s Jesus. Only Jesus.
We are weak (Lent). But He is strong (Easter). Take a deep breath. Exhale.
Yes Jesus Loves Us,
Pastor Matt
COMING UP: Engage Middle Tennessee Day – April 9th.
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