Lent

Once in a while you see a movie or read a book that makes a really lasting impression.  For me one such book is Quarantine, now if that’s not a ‘right on message’ title I’m not sure what is!

Written in the mid-1990s by Jim Crace, Quarantine tells the fictional story of how, two thousand years ago, four travellers enter the Judean desert to fast and pray for their lost souls. Here in the blistering heat they encounter all kinds of perils, some imaginary and some real, including Musa, an evil merchant, a kind of Satan figure, who preys on their vulnerability, plays with their minds and holds them in his tyrannical power. Yet out in the distance there is another, a faint figure who has come into the wilderness in order to fast for 40 days. A Galilean who they say has the power to work miracles.

Rather than doing a plot spoiler by giving away the story or the ending I will simply say that if you’re looking for a challenging read, which may at times take you out of your comfort zone, Quarantine has a timely message. About the battle between good and evil and how human beings respond in crises, both physical and spiritual. Most of all it speaks about change. Having entered the desert, the characters in the novel evolve. Through their wilderness experience they meld and mould and mellow, or sometimes not. But certainly, by the end of the story their horizons have widened and none of them will ever be the same. 

Talking with several friends I sense an important part of our story this Lent will involve spending time in reflection on what we’ve discovered in the past year, and most importantly what has challenged us and changed us.

At the start of Lent last year my diary was full, I was rushing around like a mad bear with a list of things to do:  Ash Wednesday ticked that one off, Lent course got that one too along with all kinds of meetings and parish events which we believed were so very important.

And then on Mothering Sunday, (co-incidentally also known as Refreshment Sunday) everything suddenly ground to a halt. I was sad to lose Mothering Sunday and to have to stop the Lent course too because it had just begun to get interesting.

Yet there was something in my heart that welcomed the slowing down of pace. A space to draw a line in the sand, to step back from the conveyor belt of day-to-day activity with its local/parochial emphasis and have the opportunity for space to actually stop and reflect on wider and deeper things.

One thing is for sure, as we set out on Lent this year our horizons will have changed. For some the boundaries will have narrowed, being confined to our own 4 walls but for others horizons will have widened.  Creative spirits will have been sparked into painting, writing, composing music, making films, walking, praying, cooking, craft work or even, like us, simply taking photographs.

There is, I sense, in many folk a feeling that when ‘normality’ resumes, life will not be quite the same, and in some ways this will be for the good.

My hope is that when life moves on, we may remember the lessons we’ve learnt. The importance of kindness to one another, counting our blessings day by day, celebrating small but important things and making time to stop, look and ponder.

As I wish you every blessing on your Lenten journey let me share the following prayer:

God of all seasons
in your pattern of things
there is a time for keeping
and a time for losing,
a time for building up
and a time for pulling down.
In this holy season of Lent,
as we journey with our Lord to the cross
help us to discern in our lives
what we must lay down
and what we must take up
what we must end
and what we must begin.

The Book of Common Order of the Church of Scotland.