Smack Dab in the Middle of Lent

In my parish we did not “scrutinize,” that is, we did not use the Sunday texts designated as the “Readings for the Scrutiny Year A” on the US Bishops website. Instead, we meditated on the “Third Sunday of Lent, Year C” readings:

• God (aka I AM—don’t call Him “I”) in a fiery message from the shrubbery orders the fugitive Moses back to Egypt.  It’s unclear whether or not the statute of limitations has expired on his crime.
• St. Paul warns that though the Israelites were “baptized into Moses,” ate the same spiritual food and drank the same spiritual drink, and the drink was from the rock and the rock was Christ—in spite of all that, “Yet God was not pleased with most of them, for they were struck down in the desert.”
• Jesus, discussing current events at the instigation of his audience, tells them that the misfortunes they have heard of didn’t happen because those involved were more sinful than anyone else.  However, without repentance, we will perish as they did.  In a horticultural aside, He tells of a gardener who saves a fig tree from being destroyed by the land owner, with a promise to do so next season if the gardener’s efforts don’t make it produce fruit.
• Psalm-wise, we have a kind and merciful God, taking care of business for those who bless and fear Him.

Now as I stand in my penitential desert, equal amounts of Lent before and behind me, I wonder how my meager sacrifices, which sometimes loom large in my daily struggles, fit in with the wisdom dolloped out on the 3rd Sunday. Can I see amidst my giving up goodies and taking on additional spiritual practices, deeper prayer, more charity, can I really be moving closer to the one who’s big idea I am?

It seems that merely walking on hallowed ground, knowing God’s name, being His ground-level rep, eating/drinking from on high, does not necessarily put one in the good graces of the Good God. Penitential acts without repentance and the consequent amendment of my behavior, can only have a detrimental influence on my spiritual journey. If I am merely going through the Lenten list, and not trying to make myself a different person on the other side of the sacrifices, I might as well tell the gardener to cut me down now, for I will continue to be fruitless.

Fortunately, as the Psalm says, “The Lord is kind and merciful.” That means that as I stumble through the other half of my pre-Easter ordeal, I still have a chance to do better, be better, love better—those around me and the One who is always around me. It’s up to me to give what I get from God, and thereby resurrect the person He made me to be, just in time for Easter.