During Mass on Ash Wednesday, as we were in the priory chapel receiving ashes and singing “wash away my sins,” I could hear the distinct sound of chirping birds outside. For us who live north of the equator, Lent falls in this hopeful time of the year when the chill and bareness of winter fade away and the fragrance and beauty of spring come to life once again. We begin to open our windows as the air becomes fresh, take walks as the days become warmer, and admire the beauty of the world as the flowers and trees bloom. The chirping of birds is a sign that the reemergence of a dormant earth is near, announcing that the world is coming to life once again. 

As Catholics, we find ourselves in a paradox: we enter the desert with Christ for forty days while the world enters a new springtime. As the natural beauty of the world emerges around us, we come to terms with the ugliness of our sins and ask God’s forgiveness. However, this paradox manifests the reality that the desert is only barren to those who are attached to the comforts of this life, but it is life-giving for those who enter it in the spirit of mortification and penance. 

While penance is a necessary part of the Lenten desert, we enter the desert, ultimately, to meet Jesus. With the words of Hosea, Jesus speaks to our souls: “Behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her” (2:14). Death with Christ in the desert brings us into a more intimate relationship with him, so as to be raised with him in glory. While the desert demands our fasting, almsgiving, and praying, Jesus Christ is ready to clothe us with his own life, the glory of his resurrection. Therefore, entering the desert is, paradoxically, our springtime. 

The springtime songs of the birds remind us of the beauty and life, strength and joy that are found amidst the austerities Lent. When we die with Christ and give our lives to him, with all of our imperfections, temptations, shortcomings, and fallenness, he gives us his own life. “Ask and it will be given to you,” we read in today’s Gospel, “seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Matt 7:1). When we beseech God from our fallenness, cry out to him in our temptation, and earnestly beg him for forgiveness, we find that our Father in heaven desires to shower every good thing upon us his children.

Let us approach our Father with open hands, desirous of receiving strength and new life in his grace. The goal of Lent is not to meditate endlessly upon our sins but to become detached and emptied of the world so as to be filled with the very love of God. Through his love, may God heal the wounds of sin in our hearts, restore us to life in his love, and unite us to him ever more intimately as his children. 

Photo by Stephanie Krist on Unsplash