The Dogflower Legend

This week my neighbor excitedly told me that her dogwood tree is blooming. As we walked across her yard to have a look, I asked if she had heard of the dogwood legend. She had not heard of it, possibly because she is from out of state. I did my best to give her the story.

Dogwood trees always bloom right around Easter. I have noticed that even when Easter is very early or very late, the trees seem to find a way to be right on time. Of course their blooms last for a few weeks, but it's always right around Resurrection Day.

We looked closely at a blossom, and I asked her to notice the edge of the four petals. On each petal there is a dimple that resembles a nail hole. I did not elaborate further. She was taken aback at the profound testimony of nature to the death of Jesus on the cross for us.

Maybe when you see a dogwood tree in bloom this spring you will think of Jesus.

Wait for it

Lent is a time to let self denial open us up to deeper spiritual truths. We can see the ruts we are stuck in. We can see how our perspective is limited. We can discover freedom from something that took so much of our attention.

Lent practices bring us back repeatedly to the Lord. The desire to do the thing we give up serves as a reminder to pray. It's a season of intentional, high maintenance connection with the Lord.

Just like high intensity interval training puts the body through periods of intense work and relative rest, Lent serves as period of high intensity spiritual seeking. And that leads us to Easter, a high intensity time of celebration. 

For now, we are just building the suspense.

A Long Lent

Christian tradition sets the season of Lent at 40 days, plus six Sundays, for a season lasting 46 days. The season is supposed to help us dwell on the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus. He suffered in the desert for 40 days before his ministry began. He suffered all the torture Evil could throw at him as he bled and died for humanity. 

This year I am realizing that 46 days is a long time to dwell on something so somber. I'm ready for the hurrahs of "Up From the Grave He Arose!" So often we have to wait. We have to wait it out. We know that things will be better...eventually. 

Maybe you are waiting for a raise, a clean bill of health, a wedding, a baby, a weekend, a vacation, a completed project, a restored relationship. We are conditioned these days not to wait. We carry devices that can answer almost any question we can pose. It only takes a few seconds. We can order almost anything we want (and can pay for) and have it arrive in two days. 

And so this season may feel exhausting. We don't like waiting. And the waiting is even worse when we are supposed to focus on mortality, deprivation, and suffering. It's all a reminder that Jesus is with us even as we go through dark, extended times.

God hears us as we cry out, "How long, O Lord?"

What was Judas thinking?

By the time Jesus had led his disciples across the countryside to Jerusalem, the air was full of revolution. They had stirred up crowds in town after town, and everyone was expecting a showdown in Jerusalem.

There would be a crowd there for Passover, just like every year. But this time, a charismatic, powerful, persuasive leader was in rare form, ready to make things right.

Judas, probably, was also cheering Jesus on. But maybe Judas became frustrated with Jesus's way of dealing with all the bad guys. Jesus just debated with the religious authorities, and he seemed to ignore the Roman occupiers. So maybe Judas wanted to speed things up. Maybe he thought that Jesus would finally show his strength if he had to. So Judas betrayed Jesus, expecting Jesus to meet the challenge by force.

But Jesus did not fight back. He didn't even let his friends fight for him. He just gave up and let the bad guys take him away.

When he saw how it played out, Judas was so overcome with remorse, he tried to return his blood money and ultimately took his own life. He even died before Jesus did.

We can only guess what Judas was thinking. 

No Facebook on Phone

I posted earlier about giving up something for Lent. But I never said what I had given up.

No drumroll needed. I just gave up Facebook on my phone. I actually do need to keep tabs on Facebook for church things and farm things, so I just do that on my laptop. I can keep up with my accounts, but all my interactions are on my computer. So I don't check posts when I'm in the waiting room or in the check out line. I kind of like the freedom.

You may wonder what I do about Twitter and Instagram. I have never checked those accounts regularly on any device, so I am already free from them. I have never gotten "hooked" on those platforms. I'm not sure why, because I have used them. There is so much talk these days about how addicting social media is, I'm just choosing to keep it at arm's length.

Truthfully, a lot of these social media apps are not very intuitive to me. I don't know how to use them, and I don't want to invest the time required to figure them out. For example, Snapchat. I get videos of my children and grandchildren there, so I do use that on my phone. And I only have three friends on Snapchat, my wife and two children. But there seems to be no rhyme or reason to replaying a video or saving it. I'm so tempted to go off on a rant about how confusing it is, but I'm surely just showing how not-with-it I am.

And as I write about this, I'm seeing how my Lent sacrifice is not really much of a sacrifice. But I did commit to blog posts for the 40 days of Lent. This has caused me to dig deeper into the meaning of the season. That has been worth something to me.

Big Givers

Jesus observed people giving their offering at the Temple. It was common for bystanders to observe the faithful making their offerings there. So it was easy to make a show of your offerings. Big heavy coins can sound so impressive when you drop them in the basket. You can help people see just how spiritual you are. 

The disciples were also watching the givers, and they were impressed with the big givers. But Jesus was impressed by a tiny gift of a poor widow. There was no loud clang when her tiny mites hit the pot. Jesus called attention to her sacrificial gift. It was worth more than all the noisy, gaudy offerings of the showoffs.

This widow put her money where her faith was. She had to trust God to provide for her. She was living her faith. 

I wonder what would happen if we really lived our faith. It might be really scary.

Death Thoughts

On Ash Wednesday Christians are encouraged to remember their mortality. "For dust you are, and to dust you shall return."

I'm using a Lent devotional that suggests that we should consider our own death at least once every day. That seems like a lot to me, but it does seem appropriate during Lent.

When I think of my own death, I consider what would happen if I were to die today. What would I leave unfinished? Who would step into the lives of my friends and family? What would be my regrets? 

I also consider my death at some ripe ripe old age, maybe 100. What legacy would I like to leave for my family? What do I want to be known for? A kind spirit, a good sense of humor, a voice of encouragement. I want to be missed because people enjoyed my company. I want my life to have made a difference.

We are made of dust, and to dust we will return. Remembering our mortality can help us live to the fullest.

And Easter reminds us that resurrection is coming.