Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
— Isaiah 58:6-8
Today marks the beginning of Lent for most of the world's Christians. If that's not your tradition, Lent is 40-day period before Easter that many Christians choose to fast--abstaining from certain foods or activities, and engaging in self-examination in commemoration of Jesus' fasting in the wilderness.
I've always loved Lent. I know many people see it as an antiquated religious practice designed to make you feel bad about yourself, or as a good excuse to give up chocolate and shed the post-Christmas pounds. But the older I get, the more I have come to appreciate the human need for a period of fasting and self-reflection.
The desert is a harsh and unforgiving place if you do not know how to live in it. People who spend much time there know that one must have respect for the wilderness, and that failing to prepare yourself is the surest way to end up as food for animals that are better adapted to their environment than you are. You can't fight the heat or the blinding sun--you can only learn to work with and around those things.
And you must learn to navigate your way through the hostile landscape, or you run the risk of walking aimlessly in circles until you fall from exhaustion.
But we sometimes forget that there is great beauty in the desert as well. There are stars you can't see in other places because the light pollution clouds your vision.
And there are flowers that only bloom in the desert, and for a limited amount of time...
There is more than one kind of desert, of course--and being forced into one can destroy everything you thought you knew. I have walked through several in my life--when a relationship came to an end through death or a break-up, or when my children were facing crises. And now I'm facing another one.
Like so many, I am exhausted from the debacle of the 2016 presidential election. I careen between being enraged, despairing, and terrified on a daily (and sometimes hourly) basis. I've been furiously Facebooking, tweeting, calling legislators, going to meetings, and spending long hours on the phone ranting to friends who are as shell-shocked and broken-hearted as I am.
I'm a woman of a certain age, and I've spent the last 30 years of my life fighting for a more fair and just world. Now I am watching what so many of us worked to create burn down around me. It has been particularly painful to see people I thought I knew pouring gasoline on the flames of prejudice and hatred.
Many of them proudly claim the title of "Christian," although I can't find their brand of Christianity in the life or teachings of Jesus. And the Hebrew scriptures are replete with admonitions to welcome the stranger and care for the poor. Now when I hear people talking about "Judeo-Christian values," I worry that I may start screaming and never stop...
So I'm heading into the Lenten wilderness to figure out how I can survive in the desert that my nation has become. I need to learn to protect myself from the poison of fear and anger that threaten to turn me into the mirror image of those people screaming "Build that wall!"
The Lenten desert is the place to get quiet and listen for a while. I'm going to read the works of people who have resisted in the past and see what they can tell me about fighting injustice and oppression while retaining one's humanity:
(To see all the photos in this carousel, just click on the one on the far right....)
And I am going to ponder on how I can be most effective at 'loosing the bonds of injustice, undoing the thongs of the yoke, helping the oppressed get free, and breaking every yoke'--including "yokes" that have benefited me unfairly because of the color of my skin, my education, and the economic circumstances of my family.
The chapter from Isaiah that opened this post concludes with this:
Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.
The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.
— Isaiah 58:9-12
During this Lenten season, I will choose to fast from hatred and anger, while I continue to stand for the oppressed. I will be praying to the Ground of Being to help me be a "repairer of the breach" and a "restorer of streets to live in."
I will also pray for the wisdom to survive the desert, and I will look at the stars and the flowers and remember that even the desert will bloom and shine at some point--and there is nothing anyone can do to prevent that.
I intend to be there when it does.