I hope and pray that the day after most of you see this essay, I’ll be “under the knife” (finally!) for the repair of a hernia. This surgery has been postponed since the end of January, as (again) most of you know. It’s not life-threatening (I’m not having a heart valve replaced), but it is necessary. I’ll take a couple of days to recoup, and after that, I expect to be back at full strength.
While I’m down, I will be dipping into a book I was recently given—Epiphanies. It’s based on a very Ignatian style of “placing oneself in the scene.” Chapter titles include “I am King Melchior” or “I am the Rich Man” or “I am the Woman of Samaria.” You get the idea. The second half of the book is blank—waiting for your own meditations of journal entries. This is a marvelous way of entering into the Scriptures to make them come alive. Whether or not you want to get this book, I encourage everyone, especially during Lent, to take this practice of prayer as a special gift of this season of repentance and recommitment.
This Sunday’s Gospel describes the fact if not the details of the time Jesus spent in the desert, and its central importance is the fact that this desert experience is what drove Jesus to begin preaching the Kingdom. After the Baptism, the Spirit drove Jesus into wilderness for a time of self-reflection; the end of it was the driving (so to speak) of Jesus into mission and ministry.
Sadly, Lenten retreats (or retreats at any other time of the year) are a luxury many cannot afford. But the experience of a “desert,” even if only for a few days, is critical to our spiritual balance. Is it possible to take a weekend at home and truly live just with the Lord—no TV, no email, no Facebook…? Perhaps even this is not an option, especially if little ones are running around the house needing feeding and attention. Perhaps even just a Saturday morning might work?
I know I’m pushing, but that’s because I can see the effect of retreat in the life of Jesus in today’s Gospel—and I know that this effect is what should be a motor force in our own lives as disciples: that is, mission and ministry. We don’t need to preach in synagogues (or churches); we don’t need to cast out demons (except from our own hearts); but we do need to witness to the love of God poured into our hearts, a love that is designed to be shared. This is our ministry; this is our mission. How will we allow this Lent to empower us to exercise the calling we have in Jesus Christ?
This year we will (please God) have one to be baptized, one to be received into the Church, and 3 others to be confirmed. We are hoping that this Easter Vigil will actually happen as it should. What kind of solidarity can we show to these 5 individuals? They are here longing to be full, active, and conscious participants in our Church’s liturgy and our parish’s life. How will we encourage them? More importantly, how will we prepare ourselves in this season to be able to encourage them, to be in solidarity with them, to welcome them? Lent in this light becomes a time when we prepare ourselves to be of service to others, and especially to our newest brothers and sisters. Are we ready?