Dear Friends,

(Kinda rambly this go-round... she says as though this blog isn’t always rather rambly!)

Mardi Gras is a curious observation that’s effectively a trip to indulgence-city on the eve of a season meant for self-restraint and self-examination, introspection and repentance. What’s fascinating is that masks feature so heavily in the festivities. Is that so we can try to hide our identities while we eat, drink and be merry to excess? If so, are revelers hiding from each other or trying to hide from the Triune One? Does a mask somehow convey license to do whatever one wants without fear of reprisal? Are they indicators that we’re cultivating some sort of “what happens behind the mask stays behind the mask” vibe? (And then, pancakes?) Mardi Gras is, indeed, curious.

If Mardi Gras is about hiding behind a mask (whatever the reason), I’d have to say that Ash Wednesday is about parading/exposing/revealing whatever it is that we’re wont to hide. One even wonders whether the light of Transfiguration sorta blinks out for Mardi Gras and then increases to maximum lumens on Ash Wednesday. Maybe, then, the masks help us shield our eyes from Transfiguration’s brilliance for at least the duration of our Mardi Gras carousing?

If you heard Sunday’s sermon, maybe you’ll remember that I kinda had to hold my mouth just right, then sorta tilt my head and squint in order to understand how Psalm 19:7-14 might have anything at all to do with Transfiguration. Turns out, thinking about how what we hear and see gets transformed into thoughts we have, and how those thoughts become meditations at the very core of our being, and how those meditations then inform (or not) all of our actions - thinking about that arc of transformation is exactly the impact that Christ’s Transfiguration ought to have on us.

So, at our worship gathering on Wednesday night, we will, indeed pull off our masks - even if only for ourselves. We’ll look beneath what we try to project to the world and consider how well we’re doing the work of living “to become like Jesus, bringing faith and life together.” We’ll do that work as we switch - at least for a season - away from James Howell’s 40 Treasured Verses and to the same author’s The Beatitudes for Today. Lent, Holy Week, and Easter will be one extended meditation on how the beatitudes can shape us to “become more like Jesus.”

If you want to do some preparation for Ash Wednesday (apart from whatever Mardi Gras merriment you make on Tuesday), read the beatitudes - Matthew 5:1-12 and/or Luke 6:20-26 - and meditate on how those blessed conditions call you to some sort of transformation.

See you Sunday (and Wednesday!).

Peace,

Lisa

Photo by Llanydd Lloyd on Unsplash