In the end, Lent is about death
This week I learned that a family member is being put into hospice. It was not a total surprise, as he has been living with a “terminal diagnosis” for years. But something about that decision, that concession, makes the whole thing feel a lot more real.
For many, faith is an important part of grappling with death, loss, and grief. This was more formulaic when I was an evangelical, and the formula served not to help me grieve but to help me avoid grief. Here was the evangelical logic:
When people die, they go to heaven or hell.
Anyone who accepts Jesus goes to heaven.
When your loved one dies, as long as they accepted Jesus at some point, you can know they have gone to heaven.
(Note: if the loved one did not accept Jesus, usually the theological system is temporarily discarded so that platitudes can swoop in: Jesus may give us all a chance to repent after death, or God’s mercy is new and surprising. In other words, evangelicals briefly realize the cruelty of their own theology when they face death and sorrow.)
So while the loss will sting, ultimately you do not have to truly mourn.
This little formula was nice while it lasted. But what does it mean to grapple with loss when we have left behind our sense of certainty (along with the concept of hell, and perhaps heaven)?
I don’t have any easy answers, but whatever answers there are to discover in the Christian faith are probably found in Lent. This 40–day span leading up to Easter starts with Ash Wednesday, a day when we’re invited to reflect on our own mortality. A day when some symbolize that mortality with ashes on the forehead. That’s how the season begins, and it ends, of course, with the death and resurrection of Jesus.
First of all, I don’t want to minimize the hope we might find in resurrection. We could experience something like the old evangelical comfort, but without the toxic baggage of hell, conversionism, and certainty. The crescendo of Lent is Jesus overcoming the power of death. If God holds the keys to life and death, then indeed we can hope for a future life with God and each other.
There are other themes of Lent that might help us navigate heartbreak. One year at Harbor our Lenten theme was Wilderness, and this year we are focusing on Empire. Both of these might furnish us with some good launching points for theological reflection. Here are a few ideas I’ll be pondering this season, and I invite you to join me:
When we are in the wilderness, God is there with us.
When we are surrounded by desolation, we push forward and God makes a way out of no way.
When we are living under empire, Jesus also lived under empire.
When the empire deals death, God brings life.
