Many, many years ago—even before seminary—my Lenten vow was to write one letter each day to someone who had been important to me during any time in my life. This was not a text or an email, but a real letter, with a stamp. The letter was not a thank you; rather a more-chatty “how are you”— a connection to our relationship. It was exhausting! And honestly, I have not been much of a letter writer since then. Even so, it was the most meaningful Lenten practice I have undertaken.
For me the most poignant biblical scripture comes from Jesus’s fourth word from the cross: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Since the crucifixion, Christians have wrestled with the duality of Christ the human and Christ the divine. Which is he? How do I relate to each, or to both? These words from the cross show our Lord’s faith in God the Father, as well as his very human nature. Through these words, we see clearly, that Jesus the Christ, truly and painfully recognizes our pain, our troubles, our passion.
The year 2021
My Lenten practices have never come close to asceticism. This year will be no different. After nearly a year of pandemic isolation, some people are deeply lonely. This year, harkening back to the earlier letter-writing Lenten practice, I will be sending cards and notes to those who could use a friendly hello or encouragement. These will not be long letters, but they will carry a stamp.
A prayer addition
A few weeks ago, I began adding the 10 Commandments to my nightly prayer practice of reciting the Apostle’s Creed and the Lord’s Prayer. By remembering the commandments each night, I find myself more mindful of my thoughts and actions during the day. I will continue this practice during Lent, adding the question, “What does this commandment mean to my ministry, as well as my daily life, at this time?”
John O’Donohue
John O’Donohue was an Irish theologian, writer, and poet who captures the divine within the natural world. He leads readers into a realm of imagination that lifts us away from a rigid, practical theology that we often come to practice, despite our heart’s (God’s) desire. My favorite among his books is, Beauty—rediscovering the true sources of compassion, serenity, and hope. This year I will be reading one of O’Donohue’s poetry collections called Conamara Blues as part of my Lenten readings. Conamara is a region of Ireland where O’Donohue grew up and which shaped much of his personal, theological, and poetic work.
—The Rev. Dr. Dawn Enderwood
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Norman