“I wish that life should not be cheap, but sacred. I wish the days to be as centuries, loaded, fragrant.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
This morning I opened a book of poetry I planned to reread only to have a sheet of paper fall out. The page held several quotes I had tucked away for further reflection. This quote by Emerson was one. For some reason, it captured my imagination in a particular way today. In fact, it felt like a challenge, a challenge I might want to accept during these days of Lent.
Of all the messages we have attached to the life of Jesus over the years, I believe we have been less attentive to his message of ‘I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly.’ In most church circles we have been pretty good at talking about how Jesus came to save us. Depending on the tradition people make their way in, that message gets played out in a variety of ways. My more feisty friends might say, ‘save us from what?’. There can be a variety of answers: damnation, going to hell, not going to heaven, being included in an elect group of people, being excluded from a group of people named as sinners. It depends on who you ask and the lens with which they see their faith and the world, how the question is answered.
As I have been living into this particular Lent, I have thought about Jesus and his wandering in the wilderness. In this place of preparation, where he was formed for the ministry he would take up, he did battle with many distractions. Power, wealth, personal satisfaction and, the real clincher, ego. To all these allurements and distractions, which of course we also are confronted with in our daily lives, he said an emphatic ‘no!’ Instead of being seduced by what may be called cheapness, he chose to embrace the sacredness of life. His life. The life he was blessed to live in his time.
From the way I read the scriptures about the life of Jesus, he was all about encouraging people to hold on to the sacredness of their lives. He did this, not only for the privileged and the elite, but for the poor, those on the margins, those whom society had cast aside as worthless. Over and over he lifted people from the depths of their despair and healed them with hope. Hope in a life that mattered. Hope in the sacredness of their lives.
Every day we are offered the gift of re-upping our lives. We can choose all that pulls and pushes us to embrace what does not bring more fullness to our living. We can choose the cheap way or the sacred way. It is up to us. For me, Lent can provide a particular time to reflect on the choices I am making. If I choose the sacred path, I believe my days will be as centuries, loaded with a life I had not imagined could be so full. If I choose to see the world with sacred eyes, I will be saved from a life lived small, a life lived cheaply.
These are some of the things I am wrestling with this Lent. My hope is that I will come to the end of these forty days feeling as if I have lived hundreds of years, hundreds of ‘loaded and fragrant’ years. This practice may not reflect the self denial often associated with this season. But, I think, it is in keeping with the message of the one who walked in life’s wilderness before me. And for that I am grateful.
