Nothing like a little humility during Lent

      There is nothing like a Norovirus to make one humble.   It seems to strike without warning, it is contagious before the symptoms set in, and it spreads like wildfire from contaminated food or drink.  Hand washing is our only defense – there are no vaccines.  The fear begins weeks before you are sick when you notice that Joe Schmo is not at Vestry meeting.  “Anybody know if Joe is going to be late?”, you say.  “Oh I was supposed to let you know that he is home sick”, the clerk says,- “GI bug I think….”  And then the words that strike fear in the hearts of the strongest human being – “It’s been going around!”
      Last week I was sitting at my desk at 2 in the afternoon and I noticed that I did not feel well.  I  shook it off, but when supper time came I thought…  “Maybe I should not eat a lot – just in case”.  About an hour later I began to imagine, maybe I would feel better if… I suspect you get the picture.  Twenty-four hours later I was five pounds lighter (not necessarily a bad thing) and exhausted - even though the only time I had been out of bed was when I traded my pillow for the toilet bowl. 
      This little bitty bug brings to the forefront our vulnerabilities, our fears, our sense of helplessness, and the fact that no matter who we are or how many “things” we have, we are not invincible.    When our bodies finally stop retching, we are confronted with our weakness and our need for compassion and love.  Is there anything more comforting than a loving hand with a cold wash cloth stroking the face and lifting you up to return to bed when you are too weak to get there on your own?  Having someone to help you when you are not able to help yourself is intimate, reassuring, comforting, and affirming.  Think about it– we are all human creatures with limited abilities to help ourselves.  Creatures who need to be in relationship with each other and with God.  When we are at our most vulnerable unable to pick ourselves up out of our own guilt, sadness, anger, suffering, oppression – it is God to whom we turn for acceptance, mercy, and love.  It is God who wipes the tears from our eyes, lifts us up, and carries us to safety.   That, in the end, is how I look at the Lenten discipline of humility.

Jesus said, "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.  Mt 6:1

      To be pious is to acknowledge and revere God.  If my piety comes from a place of strength, a place where I feel like I am in control, then humility goes out the window.  But if my Lenten devotion is an honest appreciation for God’s loving compassion and care for me, then I am practicing my piety in my weakness and acknowledging my dependency on God.  Out of that place of weakness comes awe, gratitude, dedication, faithfulness, and love. 

I wish you a blessed Lent and a healthy tummy,
Jane+