Front Row

There was a humorous advertising campaign showing Bob Ueker being told he was in the wrong seat, and his mistakenly thinking he “must be in the front row.” He was then shown to his new seat, high up in the rafters in what are often referred to as the “nosebleed seats.”

Although never intended as an invitation to Lent, it does beg an important question as we head into the 40-day season of reflection: Where’s our seat?

Our lives take place as if on a stage, or arena to use Theodore Roosevelt's image, and Lent offers us the opportunity to stand back, take a seat, and examine our lives. We can choose seats far away, where we can see what’s going on, if we squint our eyes, hear most of what is being said, if we lean forward, but the performance takes place at a safe distance. Some prefer such a seat, where we don’t have to get too close, or see and hear too much. From far away, our lives look fine.

The seats up front, however, are a different matter. From them, we can see every expression, hear every word, and even notice mistakes or smudges in make-up. From these seats, there’s no hiding.

As we enter Lent, we’re invited to come take a seat. We can head toward the rafters where we can relax and look on from a distance, and go on as if all is as it should be, or we can courageously sit closer, knowing we’ll see and hear things we might rather not? The choice is ours.

The lights in the lobby are dimming, the ushers are calling us to take our seats. Where will we sit?