Through Stained Glass: From Epiphany Light to Lent Darkness

“I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.” ~Barbara Brown Taylor

During worship since Epiphany Sunday, we have read stories of Jesus calling and teaching his disciples about what it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

Here are a few highlights from our last month and a half together:

·      And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

·      He said to them, "Come and see."

·      And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people."

·      Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: "Blessed are…”

·      “You are the salt of the earth… "You are the light of the world.”

·      “You have heard that it was said…But I say to you…”

The central theme of epiphany is— Jesus as the light of the world, revealed to all nations, including all God’s people. To make this manifestation known, Jesus needs disciples to help him proclaim the Reign of God to the world. The season comes to an end with the Transfiguration, when we are called to respond to Christ in faith through the showings of Christ’s divinity recorded in the gospels of the Epiphany season.

As we prepare to enter into the darkness of Lent, the gospels remind us of our call to be salt and light. These elements are at the core of Jesus’s ministry and our mission.

With the light outside lingering longer, Lent summons us to participate in the challenging but life-giving work of cultivating the light within as we walk 40 days with Christ into those wild and often dark places of our lives. I love what Joan Chittister says about our Lenten journey. She says:

Lent is the opportunity to change what we ought to change but have not…Lent is about becoming, doing and changing whatever it is that is blocking the fullness of life in us right now… Lent is a summons to live anew…Lent is the time to let life in again, to rebuild the worlds we’ve allowed to go sterile, to “fast and weep and mourn” for the goods we’ve foregone. If our own lives are not to die from lack of nourishment, we must sacrifice the pride or the sloth or the listlessness that blocks us from beginning again. Then, as Joel (2:12-18) promises, God will have pity on us and pour into our hearts the life we know down deep that we are lacking.

Lent is the time we reflect on the ways our salt has lost flavor and to take note of our dimming candlelight. One practice I plan to take on during Lent is to keep my Star Word in front of me. The light from my star will remind me that God has not only gifted me freedom but to live free from the expectations culture places on me.

What was your Star Word? How will it guide you this Lenten season?

I believe the Epiphany light can help us transition into Lent by illuminating our paths as we journey to become what God longs for us to be.

The artwork of our Epiphany words created by students from
The Center for Creativity & Community inspires us as we enter
the next 44 days of wilderness wanderings with Christ. If you would
like to add your star, you still can! 

Through Stained Glass: Wondering about Tecumseh

“Come. Sit down. Let’s argue this out.”
    This is God’s Message:
“If your sins are blood-red,
    they’ll be snow-white.
If they’re red like crimson,
    they’ll be like wool.
If you’ll willingly obey,
    you’ll feast like kings.
But if you’re willful and stubborn,
    you’ll die like dogs.”
That’s right. God says so.
~Isaiah 1.18-20, The Message

I wonder what he is thinking.

What do you think about when the snow is falling?

It probably depends where you are, right?

In the comfort of your home, maybe you think about the feeling of warmth you feel as you sit on your couch.

In the office or in the classroom, maybe you think about what the roads will be like when you clock out.

In your car maybe you have no time to think about anything other than arriving safely to your next destination.

Here is a silly confession: the snowflakes of winter are as mesmerizing as the lightning bugs of summer. I could sit and watch them dance all day and night. I find comfort in their gentle descent from heaven, and peace comes to me as they cover my tired backyard (I’m talking about the snow here). It seems as if snow makes the world softer, which I could use right about now. It makes me want to be a kid again—to run outside and make snow angels. To feel my cheeks turn red, and my fingers tingle. One of the best parts about playing in the snow as a boy was knowing my mom would have a cup of hot cocoa waiting for me when I returned home.

Gentleness. 

Softness. 

Home.

I use these words not only used to describe what I’m watching outside my window, but also to describe how I have come to know God’s presence. Of course, this isn’t always the case. Sometimes it feels hard, grimy, and distant. Somedays faith is Easter Sunday, and some seasons, it is every bit Good Friday.

Still, no matter what kind of isolation or desperate season we may be in, the snow reminds me of how God’s forgiveness and mercy are available…if we want it.

Tecumseh’s moment of contemplation lasted as long as a single flickering of a firefly’s light. As soon as I took the photo, he was off digging in the garden, throwing mud in every direction. His clean coat of fur quickly became muddy. Another reminder of how fast I tend to forget God’s call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

In the end, as I watch the snow accumulate and Tecumseh roll around in the snow, making his dirty coat white again, I wonder about God remains faithful to God’s people, even in the face of repeated rejection by them.

I wonder what you think about God’s commitment to you…no matter what.

I wonder what you think about the idea that God waits for you with a warm cup of cocoa, just waiting to warm you up with Her love.