Lenten grace: a start, not a fast

 Sermon for Lent II, 2025, delivered at St. Paul's, Louisville, KY
Text: Philippians 3:17-4:1, Luke 13:31-35

Every now and then in scripture, we hear the human side of Jesus, and we hear it this morning as the Pharisees warn Jesus about King Herod. I can just hear Jesus say “You want a piece of me? I’m here for another three days, so let’s go!” It’s a dare for Herod to do something about the disruption in the status quo that Jesus has been making. That might seem a reckless thing to say to a king, but this is the Son of God speaking. It’s an interesting contrast between earthly and heavenly power and authority, where Herod may have physical power over Jesus, but in the end, Jesus has an unearthly power.

Jesus uses interesting metaphors involving foxes and hens to talk about where prophets die and who might kill them, mostly in the holy city of Jerusalem. There could be a joke in there somewhere about the fox watching the hen house, except that in this case, Jesus as the hen house turned tables on the fox, or those like Herod who were threatened by Jesus’ teachings. And yes, hens do gather their adorable chicks under them in a tight group. I looked it up on YouTube. This image reminded me of going to Nashville on Thanksgiving Day, and sitting at a large table with all of my cousins, all of us crammed together, laughing, eating, and enjoying being a family. We were gathered under the wings of my Aunt, the matriarch of her family, and of mine during the many Thanksgivings we shared together. I have had that same experience at the agapé meals we’ve had and will have at church on Maundy Thursday; a special meal during a special time when we renew and create new bonds of love and fellowship. That special feeling of being one with the community also occurs when we receive the bread and wine at the Eucharist. We gather under the wings of God to participate in a meal together, enjoying fellowship as we feed our bodies and souls. Some of the food we eat while gathered may be food we have given up for Lent, making the experience that much more special.

A retired priest in Louisville posted recently on social media that we should keep the chocolate and instead fast from bigotry, judgment, misogyny, and hatred, among other too common attitudes. We get a hint of this idea in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, where he says “Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us.” It is an invitation to be professed followers of Christ, responding in our lives to the faith he had in us. In our current social and political climate, it is a bold action not to condemn, not to accuse, not to strike out at, to not hate those who look, think, believe, or speak differently from us. We respond with love to those who hate us, do us wrong, or want to destroy us, because that is what we promised to God when we were baptized. Giving up chocolate or beer does not accomplish those things, but giving up an emotional release of anger does. This is not to say that there isn’t a place for the anger, anxiety, or fear that makes people act out. There is a place for it. What we can give up is that way of life of acting out that way, and Lent is a time to practice, or to start a new way of life.

We could even take this new way of reacting and relating to people and invite them in, listen to them, ask them to listen to us, and build relationships. Eventually, the fox does lie down with the brood, and suddenly there is no fox to be afraid of, no brood to be protected because they have come together in the common baptismal vow of fellowship. They can break bread together at the table and at the altar, not afraid of who the other is because they have invited each other. They can live peacefully together because they see each other as part of God’s Creation. Repentance is offered, forgiveness is given, and commitment to our baptismal vows during Lent can make this fellowship happen.

So, how did I end up at baptism during Lent? Because both baptism and Lent represent beginnings, baptism being the beginning of our life as Jesus’ disciples, and Lent being a beginning of changes to remain a disciple. A beginning of a life where our sins are forgiven, and a beginning of a life where we admit our shortcomings and mistakes. What comes from those beginnings is a life of grace, grace we receive from God by faith, and grace given by us to everyone around us, especially to those we don’t get along with. Grace shapes our relationships, which is why it is so important to pay attention to what we give up during Lent. Chocolate, in the right form, builds relationships, while anger, bigotry, and hatred always tear them down. Relationships don’t always have to be lovey-dovey, where we all hold hands around the campfire and sing camp songs. Sometimes they are best from a distance, where it is easier to give grace, and harder to be ugly to one another.

If you’re still looking for things to fast from during Lent, don’t go for the obvious things that your appetite dictates. Go for denying yourself the subtle things, the things that get in the way of building relationships. Name those emotions that get in the way of living peacefully with others, rather than be in denial about them. Then put those named emotions away and instead offer respect, dignity, and grace. This seems counterintuitive and difficult to do, to give up what is familiar and easy. That is what makes Lent such a challenge, and a somber time because we give up dubious skills for something we’re not sure we can do. But trust in God, trust yourself, trust in yourself that you can learn to show God’s love and grace, even to the foxes in your life.