Column: A Lenten Confession

(Columns may contain opinions. Those opinions are those of the author.)

I failed Lent this year. 

I didn’t embrace the traditions of Lent, starting with Ash Wednesday and the imposition of ashes. Until recently, Ash Wednesday has been one of my favorite observances of the Christian year. It has been a time to take stock of my life and see all the areas where I’ve fallen short of the mark, which, by the way, is one of the definitions of sin. Having a priest mark my forehead with ashes and intone the words, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return” has been a reminder of the shortness of life.

My problem is that for far too long I’ve been reminded of the shortness of life. Like many of you, it began with the pandemic when we were afraid to go out of our homes.  When we did venture out, we looked like we worked for the CDC. We were leery of breathing the same air as those around us and we couldn’t reach out and touch one another.

At the height of COVID, I was working as a parish priest. One of my parishioners had a daughter in ICU. They weren’t allowed to visit her or hold her as she lay dying. I had to do Last Rites through a Facetime connection with a nurse holding up the phone. And I remembered that we were all dust and to dust we shall return.  I just didn’t know being dust would be so isolating.

Then, for me, came an unexpected diagnosis of breast cancer. But then, aren’t all such diagnosis unexpected? This, too, happened during COVID and both the treatment and the pandemic forced me to look at my own mortality in isolation. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. 

Later, in Augusta and elsewhere, we all experienced Hurricane Helene. Lives and homes were destroyed, and the rebuilding has been slow.  We are still surrounded by the scars of that storm. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.

I failed Lent this year because it has felt that I never left Lent. I needed Jesus. I needed Resurrection, and I couldn’t wait for the formal end to a church season. And Jesus showed up.

 When Mary Magdalene was weeping in the garden, fearing that the body of her Savior had been taken, Jesus showed up. He didn’t say, “Remember that you are dust.” He said, “Woman, why are you weeping?” And then he revealed himself as the Risen Messiah.

After the crucifixion, when his disciples had locked themselves away in fear that they would be next, Jesus showed up. He didn’t say, “Remember that you are dust.” He said, “Fear not.” One of the post-resurrection stories tells us that Jesus then breathed on them with a foretaste of the empowerment of the Holy Spirit. 

Then there were the two friends making their way to Emmaus and grieving the death of their friend Jesus. The loss was too great to bear. And then Jesus showed up. 

He didn’t say, “Remember that you are dust.” Instead, he listened as they poured their hearts out to this familiar stranger and then explained how Scripture had pointed to this moment all along. And then he went to break bread with them. In that moment, the two realized they had been the presence of the Risen Lord. They said, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” 

This is the Jesus I’ve been looking for and this is the Jesus who has found me.  This is the Jesus who has found you. If you, like me, have failed Lent, the good news is that Jesus doesn’t stick to a church calendar. Jesus shows up. Unexpectedly and full of life and love and healing. So, go ahead and jump into Easter with both feet now, if you need it. And discover that you are not alone. 

Jesus showed up.

The Rev. Dr. Cynthia Taylor, is a retired Episcopal Priest and full-time animal lover.
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