For most of my years growing up I shared a bedroom with my older brother. And while he and I got along (for the most part) it did seem, at times, that things were a little crowded. Often it felt like we were on top of each other, in each other’s way. And while I knew I would miss him when he would eventually leave for college, I kind of looked forward to that day --- because for the first time, I would have my own space.
We need that right? We need it at our places of work, so we can do our jobs properly. We need it during the months school is in session so we can get our homework done without too many distractions. We need it in early adulthood in order to discover exactly who we are, as we struggle with being solely responsible for ourselves for the first time. And we need it in relationships so that we can have the privacy we need to build a happy and healthy future with another person. Yes, we all need our space.
AND SO DOES GOD.
Soon we will be preparing for Lent. And this season might mean different things to different people. To some, it’s a season to feel bad about some things we have done. To others, it’s about denying ourselves things, bringing small hardships upon us. To some, it’s all about fish-fries and maybe an extra daily Mass or two. And to others, it’s some sort of divine contest to simply see if we will be able to do the things we say we will try to do. Yes, Lent is many things to many people. And, of course, anything done in the right spirit and with the right motivation can be a good thing --- so I’m not passing judgment on anything I’ve mentioned.
Yet, maybe it’s not only those things, not just a series of things that embrace a certain sort of negativity, a kind of joyless journey for forty days. And maybe some of that joyless feeling is caused by us not really understanding what we’re trying to do during this holy season, the “why” behind the “what”. You see, so often during Lent we focus on the things WE are trying to do, and we forget (or don’t think about) what GOD might be trying to do. In truth, all of our Lenten practices are (in a certain sense) done so that God can do what God wants to do. And what is that?
One could argue that it’s a pretty simple idea, and it is this . . . .
. . . . God needs his space.
Of course, the “space” God is looking for is within each human heart, within you and within me. And too often, God finds that there is no room at the inn, that we’re all filled up --- filled with all sorts of things that get in the way of God getting to us, get in the way of God dwelling inside of us, abiding with us. And our Lenten practices help us make room for God, help open ourselves up to our loving God who wants to commune with us today, tomorrow, and for all eternity.
And so we give to the poor --- both to help others in their time of need and to help us realize that the things we “have” aren’t really “ours” in the first place.
And we make more time to converse with God in prayer in order to remind ourselves that we aren’t simply in service to God, but are also in relationship with him --- a relationship of love that inspires us to do the right thing because we want to, not because we have to.
And we deny ourselves all sorts of things --- “give things up” --- so that we never forget how dependent we are on God --- and never forget that the things of this world can never take his place.
And we receive ashes so we never fall into the trap of believing that it’s all about us, or that what we see is more real than what we can’t see, or that we are in charge, the ones calling the shots.
All things to help empty ourselves of everything that gets in the way of God, all the stuff that gets in the way of our being the people he created us to be (and died for us to be).
So let’s make sure --- as we journey these forty days and embrace things that uniquely mark this season --- that we are doing them for the right reason, the right understanding. And it’s not because God needs us to do these things. Rather, it’s because he is trying to do something, trying to find some space, somewhere to dwell, some access in.
So let’s not turn him away. Let’s not say, “Sorry, we’re full.”
Rather, let’s use our Lenten practices to open the door wide and invite him in. It’ll probably be the smartest thing we ever do.
Have a blessed Lent, everyone.