FROM THE LAY CORNER
When I first began writing about my faith and theology publicly, I remember vividly a comment from an ordained priest who excoriated my theological commentary as “humanistic mumbo-jumbo.”
I was deeply offended. And hurt. Here I was, a layperson, trying to share how the years of churchgoing, personal experience and faith had formed my understanding of God, and it was rejected due to a lack of formal theological education. A layperson’s ability to articulate their faith and theology is much like the bumbling and awkward experience of a toddler learning to walk. Falling down, not quite getting it right, but trying, trying, trying. At some point it comes together but may take years. Some people will always crawl, some will learn to walk, and others may run. It’s an incredibly important step in faith formation and evangelism for a layperson to communicate, “What do you believe?” Consequently, I caution “experts” to not chastise laypeople as they come out of their comfort zone to verbalize their experience of God because one, it is intensely personal; two, you could push someone away from sharing about God (which, hello, evangelism! The layperson’s call!); and three, look to your own doorstep: the articulated theology of a layperson is the product of your tutelage. If you don’t like what you hear, maybe you aren’t teaching well.
Once I got over the hurt, I sat back and thought about what I had written. I went back to the Bible, the Book of Common Prayer, and had a nice little chat with God. What came out of that chat was a clear call to continue to write. Sure, my theology may be a little rusty around the corners, it doesn’t include fancy Latin references, and I can’t translate the original Greek and Hebrew texts, but it’s mine. And at the end of the day, “theology” is the study of God. It does not require a university education, but it does take discipline, dedication, commitment to study, immersion in difficult questions, and certain comfort with not knowing all the absolute answers or truths.
Which brings us to Lent.
Lent is a period of discipline. Discipline is a fancy word for sticking with things—being dedicated—committing to a plan and “demonstrating the development of a habit” sort of thing. Lent is historically a 40-day period of the liturgical (fancy word for process and procedures surrounding worship) calendar where Christians are called to focus on an aspect of their faith (giving up sins or temptations; taking up burdens and crosses; committing to formalized prayers or pilgrimages, etc.) through a disciplined life that reflects inwardly and outwardly on their pursuit of God. (Hello, dedication, planning, commitment!) Those 40 days of Lent are supposed to mirror Jesus’ 40 days in the desert where he disciplined himself to focus his mind, body, and spirit on God to prepare him for the coming crucifixion and resurrection.
Please note Jesus had to prepare for crucifixion and resurrection. He wasn’t just “ready” for it. This says to me that getting nailed on a cross and accepting it as the ultimate sacrifice for our sins doesn’t come naturally. Now, I know that some will take exception to this. There are people that believe that faith comes easy. Obviously, if you “really” believe in God, then faith should be easy.
That has not been my experience. My health, my world, my culture, my friends, my studies—they all challenge my understanding of God. And for me, faith takes work. Faith takes me fully engaging in the process. Faith takes me giving my doubt and failures to God. Faith takes me rejecting my individual nature (“Anna knows best!”) and trusting in something much bigger than me (“God knows best!”).
But I digress, back to Lent … Jesus had to prepare for the crucifixion. Ergo, we also should prepare for the crucifixion. This requires us to dig deep for 40 days, and work on disciplines where we plan, dedicate ourselves, and stick to our inward and outward Christians lives in order to grow closer to God.
Why is this important?
Because humans struggle every day with accepting the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ. People struggle every day to comprehend the love of a God who is so great that God would die on a cross to have you be a part of the everlasting Kingdom of God. It means accepting things like “you are worthy,” “you are beloved,” “you were marked as Christ’s own forever,” “you were known in your mother’s womb.” The human brain instinctually wants to reject these words. In one of the greatest plot twists in mankind, the very nature of our humanity has difficulty with the Logos (fancy word for “word of God”) that created us. That which spoke us into being is far greater than we can possibly understand. We don’t get it. Humans don’t like things we cannot understand and put into nice boxes. And so, we rebel. We reject. We think we know better. Until something happens and you realize that “OMG,” there is something to those words in the Bible, the traditions of the church, and stories from the lives of the faithful who have gone before us.
Traditions like Lent allow us as Christians to prepare ourselves to be loved. By engaging in disciplined plans that create habits that focus on the spirit rather than our worldly needs, we establish patterns that put “God’s knows best” ahead of “Anna knows best.” When we dedicate our inward and outward life in pursuit of what we understand to mean being Christian, it means dedicating your 40 days of Lent to understanding how God could possibly die for you. Those 40 days are an opportunity to explore the nature of the One who calls you beloved, who says you are worthy, who has known you since the beginning, and who wants your journey to always be one that draws you closer to God. Jesus demonstrates this for us during Lent as he gives up everything earthly, knowing that, through his spiritual life, he would be able to accept the crucifixion.
Jesus’ preparation in the desert allowed him to be ready for the crucifixion. Jesus knew that the crucifixion wasn’t the end of the story. (Plot twist!) You see, it’s not just the crucifixion. It’s the resurrection we celebrate. It’s the promise God made through his covenant in the blood of Jesus that all will be made whole. That means that there is nothing that God cannot make whole again. God shows us the promise through the resurrection of Christ that we are very members of this mystical body as well.
I know this through faith (which takes work!), through the teachings of our church (tradition!), the message of the Bible (God’s Word!), and through experience. You see, when I was faced with my cancer diagnosis (and prior to that, my hearing loss), I thought I had done something wrong. I felt unworthy, something “less than.” I felt scared. I felt grossly out of control. I felt betrayed. But God has this way of whispering, “What do you believe?” in those moments. And I heard. And I pondered. And I realized that if I truly believe the words of the Nicene Creed that I say each week at church as a profession of my faith, then I believe God’s promise in the resurrection. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, I don’t really know why, but I do believe God’s promise. And when you really believe, things like cancer, deafness, tragedy, death, loss, pain, suffering are transcended.
That’s what Lent is about. It’s about preparing yourself to accept what you believe. Lent is about actively engaging your physical and spiritual lives in accepting that you are good enough, worthy enough, beloved enough that God would die for you. Use your 40 days of Lent to walk, run, pray, volunteer, study, explore every aspect of your faith to bring you closer to this truth. It’s one you can take to the grave with you.
And that, my friends, is this layperson’s theology.
