Destinations

On Wednesday night, many of us will gather in our churches for an Ash Wednesday service.  We will leave with ash smudges on our foreheads and solemn (not so solemn vows) of what we will give up for Lent.  Then during these six+ weeks of Lent we will have more somber music in worship.  The sermons in church may in one way or another deal with very serious weighty matters.  We will be a little on edge because of the missing chocolate, caffeine, soda, etc. that we have given up for Lent.  The other disciplines of lent can be a real burden.  But to what purpose is all of this?  This strange ritual with the ashes is only the beginning of a journey, a journey that always has as its ending the darkness of the cross of Christ.

Recently I have also been thinking that I've been running now a little over twenty years.  The fall of 2013 will mark the 20th anniversary of my first marathon.  In Oct. 1993 I completed the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C., my first ever.  Since then I've covered this distance six other times.  With the twentieth anniversary of my first marathon coming up I cannot help but want to do a fall marathon this year, 2013.  Will it be a return to Washington, D.C. for the "People's Marathon" for the first time since 1998?  Maybe it will be something much closer and easier logistically, like the Charlotte Thunder Road Marathon.  Whichever of these it is, or something else, I'll do one this fall.

The approach of Lent, and also the possibility of doing a "twentieth anniversary" marathon in the fall of this year are not unrelated.  Both are long journeys to a particular point that have a definite beginning.  Approaching the beginning it's always best not to think first about the ending, for that is too far away.  Wiser is to take it one step at a time.  This is helpful for a couple of reasons.  The whole journey is too long to conceive at once, and when we begin to grow weary early in the journey conceiving of the whole- whether it is another six weeks of Lenten discipline or another 22 miles left to run- overwhelms us.  Overwhelmed then, we lose motivation and doubts creep in.  When the doubts creep in we quit the race far too early.  The last 20+ miles never get covered not because we can't do it physically, but because of our minds.  Likewise, we can be too intimidated by the total length of Lent and we quit.  The abstinence/fasting that is part of Lent, the additional disciplines can far too easily overwhelm us and we quit.  The finish line will come either way, but we finish only if we travel the whole distance, and and will grow only if we cover it.

To focus too much on the destination prevents us from experiencing every moment of the way.  The destination is important, but not at the exclusion of the journey.  Eugene Peterson's great book on discipleship is entitled perfectly, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.  Getting to the destination is one step, one day, at a time and there aren't short cuts to this.  The disciplines of Lent are cumulative.  Their impact upon our lives grows over time.  We can't anticipate at the outset what will four or five weeks ahead, just as you cannot anticipate what we might feel like at mile 18.

The destination/journey element marathon analogy is instructive as we begin Lent in one other way.  The journey can only be completed in light of the length of the journey, how far it is to the destination.  How many people have abandoned a Lenten journey because they began too fast.  The disciplines of Lent, the abstinence of Lent can't be so much that we begin enthusiastically, but abandon them.  Likewise, thinking too much of the immediate without thought of the destination is disastrous with the marathon.  Beginning too fast, "going out  too hot," is disastrous.  The length is simply too great to gut it out.

Wednesday night is the starting line my friends.  I encourage you to be in worship to begin this journey.  It's not easy, nor is it to be taken lightly.  On the other hand, the growth of each step of the way is life altering, and once we've reached the destination we will never be the same again.