Parson to Person

The month of March is named for Mars, the ancient Roman god of war; maybe the tumultuous weather this time of year helped the description stick over the centuries. March also describes that brisk walking thing, forced or voluntary; marching bands, soldiers marching, marching through Lent towards Easter. A lot of the walkers, with or without dogs, at Bidwell Park would make great marchers, so fast and snappy! The military images are really mixed for many of us – how often in the past have we compared the Church to the army of God, sung ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers’ or the more peppy ‘We Are Marching In The Light of God’, marched together in CROP walks, in protest, or in peace…some of us even annually march through the brilliant January sunshine on our way home to celebrate the ministry of Martin Luther King Jr.

As armies go, I’m not sure we would qualify. We all have different levels of training, endurance, and a variety of visions for where our next campaign should be conducted. We often bristle at authority, plan our leave frequently; resist uniforms, and a host of other nonmilitary evidences. On a bad day, I sometimes find myself humming the old hymn, “Like a mighty turtle, moves the church of God, walking ‘round in circles, where it’s always trod”… AND YET… for all that, we manage to move with efficiency and clarity fairly often, with purpose and passion at the forefront. When our mind is set towards an outcome, we can be a great force for good and change in the world. Trinity is part of the green energy reality with our solar panels. We continue to be an emergency cold-weather homeless shelter, offering two weeks of service this past winter. We embrace a Declaration of Inclusion, widening our ministry to LBGTQ persons. And we manage to do all this, and more, without too much ‘collateral damage’, a good thing in light of medieval (and local) history.

By the time you read this, we will be a few weeks into our march through Lent to Calvary and then beyond to Easter. Even though this march is annual, it always feels like kind of a forced march to me, with my usually sunny temperament chafing under the Lenten sackcloth uniform. I just don’t like Lent, I say to myself, but that’s not really the whole truth. What I really don’t like is the imposed introspection, the self-questioning, the intentional spring cleaning of mind and heart that Lent encourages. Like other healthy things, it doesn’t feel that great. But it has much value, and so every year I put on my big boy undies and soldier on, and encourage others to march alongside. Misery loves company, right?

But it is so much more than that…in our media circus society, where anyone’s missteps can be filmed by passerby and posted online within seconds, Lent is much more old school. We are our own paparazzi, our own judge and jury. We set the pace of the inquiry and the penalty if there needs to be one. What a gift of grace, to take time and review our lives, make mid-course corrections, and resolve to a higher quality of being.

In some ways we are a rag-tag army, vaguely following vague orders as interpreted by an unqualified officer du jour. But in other ways we really are a mighty regiment, marching and loving and healing and improving as a unit, and we will persevere, and we will live to love another day.

And so I say, thanks to the officers. Thanks to all the soldiers, of whatever ‘rank’. And perhaps thanks most of all to Christ, the highest-ranking general of all. It is his vision that continues to motivate us after millennia of effort, and his smile and praise that inspire us still. Have a good March, everyone…