Lent I, Year B

Genesis, 9:8-17
1 Peter, 3:18-22
Mark, 1:9-13

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

A couple of weeks ago, Daniel Libeskind's design concept was selected for the redevelopment of the World Trade Center site. The new structures will soar into the sky, restoring the Manhattan skyline and pointing us heavenward, outward, onward to bigger and better. One spire will reach 1,776 feet into the sky, the tallest building in the world. The site, however, will also draw the eye downward. Libeskind borrows from Maya Lin's Vietnam War Memorial on the Mall, a memorial that leads us to descend into memory. The Libeskind design envisions a huge pit, "the emotional center" of the site, "a four and a half acre memorial park, 30 feet below street level in Lower Manhattan." ⁽¹⁾ In the pit, the memorial park's western boundary is sort of a new Western Wall, a new Wailing Wall; this is the so-called slurry wall, which formed the foundation of the Trade Center buildings and held back the Hudson from flooding in after they collapsed. The exposed slurry wall is sort of an open wound, reminding visitors of the attacks and memorializing the victims.

Visitors to the site "will be allowed to choose their own paths - looking up to the ascending spire, perhaps for a sense of redemption and hope, or down into the void and mute slurry wall." ⁽²⁾ So there's upward and outward, and downward and inward. Unlike architectural norms of the past, the Libeskind design does not force our eye up or down; it does not direct the eye; it gives choices. In a sense, the site will not claim authority; it makes the visitor, the spectator, us the authority. We choose. Professor James Young, who has studied some of Libeskind's work extensively, says of this new design: "Because there's less certainty in our minds [about where to direct our attention] we have to look within ourselves." ⁽³⁾ The Libeskind design appeals to individual, personal experience. Dr. Joseph Carver puts it this way: "The [1960s] took away from the idea of: our culture says what's right and wrong and popular. Whatever we look at now, whether it's music or art or this memorial, we all have our own interpretation of it. Memorials are like inkblot tests." ⁽⁴⁾

I am not wholly opposed to that kind of architecture, or even to that kind of mind set. In many ways, it's quintessentially American; it's democratic and individualistic because it allows the spectator to make choices, to find the answers in themselves. But if we take that to extremes, if we teach people that all of the answers are in themselves and in their own experiences, then we have a problem. Pretty soon we have, "I'm okay, and you're okay," and that clearly is not true. God gave us Lent, just as he gave us Jesus, because we are not okay. We are full of sin and weaknesses and flaws, things we do not like about ourselves, and things other people justifiably do not like about us. We are not okay, but the good news of our Lord is that's okay. The heart of Jesus' message is: God loves you no matter what.

But we won't ever know God's love until we first know something about ourselves. We have to know the full truth of ourselves, not just the nice bits. Most people come to church because they know at least a little of the dark bits about themselves. We've engaged in at least a little serious self-examination, and we know that we are sinful and weak, that the truth is not naturally in us, that we do not automatically love our neighbors, or even ourselves, as we ought. Once we make that confession to ourselves, then we can begin to welcome God into our lives. That is the first step. Lent is a time for us to deepen our self-examination, a time to know ourselves a little better. We will find goodness and love in us, but Lent is especially about acknowledging our pettiness and sin. If you cut into any one of us, you will find mostly gray. Lent is about trying to lighten that gray, a time to deal with our wickedness so that God may be a bigger part of our lives.

The truth of self-examination is that we can't do it alone. We need other people; we need good relationships with other people, in order to know ourselves better. We need a community of people to help to make us holy. We can, like Jesus in today's gospel, go off and be alone for a time. Yet, Jesus didn't stay in the wilderness, and we can't stay in the wilderness. We can't run away from other people. We have to deal with people who we do not like, people of whom we do not approve, people of whom we are jealous. It's part of growing up. We have to learn to deal honorably with all people. Jesus did not run away from people, even from people who were hostile to him. He allowed his community to have some authority over him. He made friends with people: close, intimate, trusting relationships, even dear friendships with people who later betrayed him. Spiritual growth is not a private matter; it requires friendships, and friendships require hard work and self-discipline.

Ash Wednesday was a beautiful day, the nicest in many months, the first day when you had a sense that this bitter winter was going to end, and spring was about to arrive. Lent is about renewal. It should be a springtime for the soul, a time for new growth, a time when we recommit to repent of our ways and to follow our Lord, to confirm the ways he has changed our lives. We should examine ourselves, which largely means examining our relationships with other people, and trying to fix what's wrong.

In Lent we give up things, especially material and worldly things, and things that are bad habits. Exercising self-denial improves our discipline; it reminds us that man does not live by bread alone, but by God and for God. As long as we are not sick or weak, we should reduce the amount of food we eat so that we have one full meal every day along with one or two half meals or snacks. If you do a lot of physical labor or strenuous exercise, you have to eat. Don't over do fasting so that you get faint; don't fast so that your health is endangered. Fast so that you feel some hunger, and let that hunger remind you of your need for Christ. Besides fasting, practice abstinence, which means on Fridays and Wednesdays, abstain from meat. I am always grateful that Sundays are in Lent, but not of Lent. On Sundays, we can enjoy those things we have given up, but remember moderation: no binge-ing. Also, we need to try to cut back on those things we know are not good for us. When I lie on the couch watching television, I can sometimes feel my brains being sucked out of my head and my heart being scraped. Lent is a time for me to improve my habits, and for me that means less of the boob-tube. We all have bad habits, and we should cut back on them.

More importantly than giving up things, in Lent we take up things. First, we pray more. We take advantage of the parish's daily mass; we adopt daily devotions and are diligent about intercessions: for our families and friends, for the hungry, the homeless, the downtrodden, for those we normally do not think of. We pray for those we like and those we do not like. Another discipline is scriptural or spiritual reading. Learn about the faith. Consider making a sacramental confession. Give more to charities. Volunteer to do good works. If you are at a lost what to do, speak to me: visit me, call me, email me, write me a letter.

Those things are relatively easy, and here is what is most important. If we do nothing else this Lent, it will not be a waste if we do acts of charity, of kindness, of forgiveness. Every person here should go out of their way to do something charitable, something nice, for someone whom they do not normally do nice things. Practice charity among family and friends, but also among acquaintances and strangers. And along these lines there are two things which our world and the Church are too full of, two ugly things we have to strive to avoid. First, inasmuch as you can rely upon stereotypes, one of the virtues of Americans is our optimism, our can-do attitude. We need that positivity to be reflected more strongly here. The gospel gives us every reason to be optimistic. God is at work in us. His grace fills the world. With God, all things are possible. We need to act like it. Second, let's resolve not to gripe about things or to gossip: no griping, no complaining, no gossiping. Most of humanity does it - probably all of humanity, but it's wrong. It kills. It makes Christians the most ugly hypocrites. We all receive the body and blood of Christ, and thereby we have brotherhood, unity with one another. We need to act like that. If we hear complaining or gossiping or negativity, let's say "Let's keep a holy Lent." You may not be able to get away with that at work, but you can do that here! Everyone's behaviour matters because we all need one another to become more holy, to live happier lives, to love better.

This Lent, and always, let us be more concerned with our own faults rather than our neighbor's faults. Let us use our energies positively and constructively. Our goal is to strengthen our community in love, in reaching out to people. We fight our fears, our smallness, by becoming more inclusive. We are not a club; membership is for everyone. All that's wrong with the world we are not going to solve, but we can use Lent to turn from our mistakes, to turn from our sin, and to receive mercy. Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against others. The truth is God loves us despite our flaws, and we need to share his love with everyone. So let's keep the image from today's gospel in mind, the image of the angels ministering to Jesus in the wilderness, and let us minister like the angels to one another and to the world.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

1. Kirk Johnson, 'The Very Image of Loss,' The New York Times, 2 March 2003.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

4. Ibid.