Br. Luke Ditewig

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18

God had promised Abram a son. But years passed and no son. God comes again in a vision and says: “Don’t be afraid.” Abram replies: “What? You haven’t given me a son! So my heir will have to be Eliezer, a slave born in my house.” Maybe Abram blows up more than that and shakes his fist. Maybe he slumps, dejected. Perhaps both. We don’t know the tone. Abram thinks he will have to make do with his own alternative.

God replies with gentleness and grace: No, it won’t be Eliezer. You will have your own son. Look at the stars and count them.  Your descendants will be that numerous. Every night, look up, and you’ll see a reminder of me and my promise. Wait for me.

Beyond Abram’s comprehension, amid confusion, grief, anger, and questions, God kept coming. Later in old age, Sarah bore their son Isaac.

Jesus laments that Jerusalem kills the prophets, God’s messengers, and resists him. Jesus says he is like a mother hen. He longs to gather and shelter us. A mother hen will also confront an enemy with claws to protect her young. Preparing for bed at Compline, we pray: “Hide us under the shadow of your wings.”[i] Even as we run, push, ignore, and fight, God comes to protect, gather, hold, and embrace. As heavenly parent to wayward, confused, and frustrated children, God keeps desiring and gently calling.

Is this your image of God during Lent, one who keeps coming and calling with fortitude and gentleness? Many of us have received an image of God who is a harsh and stern authority          with a pointing finger demanding an apology. Kneeling on marble and fasting might trigger that image.

Remember how we began. “Blessed be the God of our salvation: who bears our burdens and forgives our sins.” “Let us come to the Lord who is full of compassion” Lent does not begin with confession. Lent begins with love. Lent is like a retreat with the purpose to reclaim, renew, and refresh our identity as children whom God loves.

Last Sunday’s gospel recounted Jesus’ long retreat and his temptations in the desert. Jesus went out there from his baptism, where God said: “You are my son, my beloved, with you I am well pleased.” Retreat, Lenten fasting and discipline, and our different order for Lenten worship is all rooted in the love of God who calls us beloved.

From the experience of being loved, we kneel and confess sin. In response to love, we give something up or take something on. In response to love, we let God touch and heal our wounds. Even then, we may still run or fight the risk. Watch what happens. God desires us and keeps coming.

We Brothers say in our Rule of Life: “we shall often have to struggle with our reluctance to be so loved so deeply by God. Christ himself will strive with us … .”[ii] Jesus offers a variety of images to grasp and through them touches us. Try praying with a loving image.

Perhaps a hen as she gathers her young. Imagine God as a hen who gathers us under strong wings in safety. Imagine yourself as a lost lamb with a divine shepherd who calls you by name, searches, finds, and carries you home. Gaze at the stars. Remember other places and seasons gazing at the expanse. Recalling grace in those places and times, trusting God’s grace here and now.

If not chickens or sheep or stars, what image evokes feeling loved for you? Spend time with it trusting, imagining, and asking for a revelation of God’s love.

Hold that imagine in mind in the silence before worship and as you kneel to confess. If giving up something this Lent, remember that loving image as you fast or refrain. If taking on something new, hold that loving image as you do it. Letting go and taking on, kneeling and confessing, are all in response to Love, response to One creatively comes, gently calls, and invites.

Lent begins with love. Soak in it, resting under the wings of hen or climbing on a sturdy rock, being held by a shepherd or embraced by family or friends.            Responding to Love, dare to listen, kneel and confess, pray with images and trust for more. God loves you. God desires you and keeps coming.

[i] Psalm 17:8

[ii] SSJE Rule of Life, Chapter 21: The Mystery of Prayer