Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 84

When this which is corruptible clothes itself with incorruptibility and this which is mortal clothes itself with immortality, then the word that is written shall come about:

Death is swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?

On Wednesday we begin the joyful season of Lent. The word joyful in that context sounds ironic -- even sarcastic -- but it appears in some of the collects of the season. And I recall the very wise spiritual director who told me, "Joy is the sincerest form of penance." 

Sailing as we do through the moments when we ask the Lord to reveal our sins to us, and then seeing our sins. Suffering the enormity of our sins which feels like drinking the cup of sorrow to its dregs, we come to that glen in the dark forest where we realize Emmanuel. God is here! And we are here with God.

There is laughter there and great joy, as we mock the fears that gripped us: Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?

Lent is about freedom as, for the sake of obedience and in the spirit of gratitude, we undertake discomforts like fasting, almsgiving, and prayer. We don't have to eat until we're full; we can give more generously than anxiety allows; we can hang out in the Presence of the God who loiters with us. Six weeks of Lent seems like a lot of time on Ash Wednesday, but it unfolds rapidly as we stay with each day's prayers and penances. The consecrated time reminds us of our baptism and our consecrated lives. 

Lent reminds us that, 

It is good to give thanks to the LORD,

            to sing praise to your name, Most High,

To proclaim your kindness at dawn

            and your faithfulness throughout the night.

I was struck recently by a cheerful thought, and it continues to amuse me: Nobody asks to be born. In fact, a lot happens between birth and death over which we have no control. At best, we deal with them and try to make the best of them. We often fail; sometimes we succeed. But, for the most part, the successes and failures made little difference in the outcome. I'm not persuaded by the theory of self-made men. I think the odds dictate some will succeed and many will fail. Most people try pretty hard and some of them are lucky. Do they succeed by hard work? Probably not. They just miss the catastrophes that happen willy-nilly to the rest -- until they don't. As my friend said from his wheelchair, "You're not yet disabled."  

And so we give thanks to God for our good fortune and our bad fortune for God is worthy of all praise and we were elected by God to know it.