This morning the family and I went to church. Admittedly we were a few minutes late. We arrived halfway through The Great Litany, a long order of prayer and response, a staple in many Episcopal churches for the First Sunday in Lent. We even prayed for an end to pride, vainglory and hypocrisy. This was the Sunday of Jesus being driven into the wilderness and tempted by Satan (we hear this every year)… except… because it is the year of the Gospel of Mark, we did not linger with Jesus there in the wilderness, but moved on immediately to the beginning of Jesus* ministry in Galilee. Already the kingdom of God is near, very near. It begins again. Yes, it is Lent, a season named for the days lengthening, a time the days grow longer, and spring is on the horizon. At least here in the Northern Hemisphere, this is true.
Consider this:
By now we really begin to notice the days are longer. What will you do with longer days, more daylight? What will the extra few minutes each day offer you? What will you see? What will you hear? To what are you drawn? How will you capture it, then let it go? It all seems a form of catch and release. I saw a crocus next to the St. Mark*s office entrance this morning, just emerging from the ground. There was a man, clearly homeless, who waited on the same side of the tracks with us as we all watched a very long freight train pass. What will you do with more light?
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