Lent IV 03/30/25
The Still Point
A Time of Meditation and Reflection
The Fourth Sunday in Lent
Laetare Sunday
... At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance... T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
Peace on each one who comes in need;
Peace on each one who comes in joy.
Peace on each one who offers prayers;
Peace on each one who offers song.
Peace of the Maker, Peace of the Son,
Peace of the Spirit, the Triune One.
Opening Prayer
God of our pilgrimage, we have found the living water. Refresh and sustain us as we go forth on our Lenten journey, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Scripture Reading Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." So Jesus told them this parable: "There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."' So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate. "Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"
Poem: “Dawn Revisited” by Rita Dove
Imagine you wake up
with a second chance: The blue jay
hawks his pretty wares
and the oak still stands, spreading
glorious shade. If you don't look back,
the future never happens.
How good to rise in sunlight,
in the prodigal smell of biscuits -
eggs and sausage on the grill.
The whole sky is yours
to write on, blown open
to a blank page. Come on,
shake a leg! You'll never know
who's down there, frying those eggs,
if you don't get up and see.
Meditation
Today, we encounter a story about the newness of life, in the son returning home expecting shame and finding rejoicing. In this poem, the morning has dawned fresh, and the breakfast aromas are wafting from downstairs. Newness of life is a recurring concept in our faith tradition, and it shows up powerfully in the expression of the sacraments. Every Eucharist is a new Easter feast. Every baptism is brimming with new living water. Every marriage is a new manifestation of God's love. Every anointing is a new beginning of healing and recovery. Every confirmation and ordination is a new self-dedication to a life of discipleship and service. And every reconciliation is a resurrection of right relationship between and among people. The newness of life which each sacrament reveals is a continual, physical, embodied human experience of resurrection. My resurrection. Your resurrection. Christ's resurrection.
This season of Lent is a time for reflecting upon our sins and committing ourselves to acts of repentance. Stated differently, it is a season for considering how and when we've missed the mark and committing ourselves to adjusting our focus on what really matters. The Gospel passage and poem before us this week remind us that no matter what stormy weather churns up drama in our relationships with one another, above it all, there is always the light of grace available and shining on us, in us, and, whenever we allow it, through us. And the good news is, nothing can stop that grace from shining forth, just as surely as nothing can stop the sun from rising each day.
In one version of our communal confession of sin during a celebration of the Holy Eucharist, we pray that we may live and serve God-Who-Is-Love "in newness of life." And then? We receive the grace of forgiveness. We're not questioned about whether we deserve it. Our petition does not open a period of litigation. Forgiveness is freely offered - we only have to be willing to ask for it and, by asking, be willing to admit that we need it. We get a fresh start, like homemade breakfast on a new morning. This Sunday in Lent is set apart for rejoicing, named after the Latin word for "rejoice" - Laetare. This may be a day for us to rejoice in the newness of life God gives us and to allow God to make us new each morning...each meal, each conversation, each hug, each apology, each meeting of eyes and meeting of minds...as God makes all things new.
Questions for Reflection
- Consider communal, or corporate, confession, the out-loud confession of a community's collective sins during worship before Eucharist is celebrated. How do you think naming out loud where we've missed the mark as a community helps us adjust our focus? Where do you notice your community, around where you live and the wider community, missing the mark? Where do you see God bringing forth newness of life in your community? What life might be waiting to come forth from what's missing the mark?
- Consider individual confession. Episcopalians tend to engage in individual confession less frequently than Roman Catholics. What is your personal relationship with individual confession? Have you ever engaged with it or wondered about it? If so, call to mind a time when you made your confession to a priest. What was the experience like? What changed in you, or for you? If you've never made a confession to a priest, have you ever confessed to or confided in someone? What did it feel like before, during, after? Have you ever confessed or admitted something to yourself? Was there an exchange of grace? Or judgment? What happens to that which you acknowledge when you imagine the light of grace shining on it?
- In Zen Buddhism, there is a concept called "shoshin (初心)," or beginner mind (I recommend Pema Chodron's "When Things Fall Apart" for further reading). What does having a "beginner mind" approach to life mean to you? How does the "beginner mind" change your relationship with yourself, with other people, with your work, and with how you experience God? Where do you notice "beginner mind" in the Gospel story of the Prodigal Son? Where do you notice "beginner mind" in Rita Dove's poem? How is having a "beginner mind" similar to having "newness of life"? How is it different?
Prayers
We bring before God someone whom we have met or remembered today
We bring to God someone who is hurting tonight and needs our prayer
We bring to God a troubled situation in our world
We bring to God, silently, someone whom we find hard to forgive or trust
We bring ourselves to God that we might grow in generosity of spirit, clarity of mind, and warmth of affection
We offer our thanks to God for the blessings in our lives
We name before God those who have died.
Now to God who is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or conceive, by the power which is at work among us, be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus throughout all ages. Amen.
Accept our thanks for all you have done, O God. Our hands were empty, and you filled them.
May Christ’s holy, healing, enabling Spirit be with us every step of the way, and be our guide as our road changes and turns, and the blessing of God our Creator, Redeemer and Giver of life be among us now and remain with us forever. Amen.
Reflections this month offered by: Kathleen Schmidt
