Lent 3: Eyes wide open

Early on, I developed the strange habit of squinting my eyes whenever I had to deal with something unpleasant - like clean up after my dog, remove a dead mouse or bat. Somehow, diminishing my vision made it easier to handle such unpleasant sights. I still do it, and realize I also do it with other kinds of unpleasant things . . . like those within me.

I grew up in a serious, penitential, church where Lent and all its somberness fit right in. Forty days to look at those things that keep us from being who God wants us to be was an on-going feature of the congregation’s spiritual walk. As someone inordinately self-critical, looking at those things became second nature.

But I recently realized that I squint my eyes when looking at such unpleasant things. Somehow it makes whatever it is less frightening, or disappointing. Facing one’s self-centeredness, greed, judgment of others, anger, lust, dishonesty, pettiness, prejudice, can be overwhelming. No wonder so many people treat the season of Lent like any other.

For those who take the season seriously, however, such soul-searching, while hard, is important. That’s why some of us squint the eyes of our souls to soften the blow, ease the pain and disappointment, but doing so doesn’t change the reality. Just like the dog’s mess didn’t go away, nor the dead animal disappear, our character defects don’t disappear or change because we look at them with a diminished view.

No matter what we’ve done or not done, who we’ve become or not become, nothing separates us from God’s love. That’s what I’ve heard, so we can all stop squinting our eyes and open them wide. The sunlight of the spirit is burning bright behind such clouds. It’s time to look at them as God, in God’s time, blows them away.