Monday, February 26, 2007


This Lenten reflection is seriously good. Also on podcast. Who is this guy?

You watched the desert, expecting this Lenten trek and you wanted…you wanted…something. Someone? What? Think back! Go back and see it! Ash Wednesday is like a barge on the church calendar, plowing through ordinary time to arrive like a liturgical bully at the dock of the altar. No sweet hymns. No decorative treats or cute secular totems. Just ash and a reminder: you are made from ash and to ash you will return. From dust to dust. At that moment, with that memory: what did you want? Now, what do you want? You need to know this. The desert knows. I mean, the time you spend these next 35 days or so wandering the desert of the spiritual life, what you most desire, that which we need most will come to you. And not necessarily in a form or fashion that you will recognize. Lent is not about avoiding temptations. Lent is not about fasting or prayer or being good. Lent is about wandering into the emptiness, the vanity, the wreckage we have made of our spiritual lives and finding one more time the stalwart presence of God, the inexhaustible workings of the Holy Spirit. Seeking and finding the face of Christ.

These forty days are a countdown for detachment, for unplugging. Lent is a time for us to detach from all the teats of our poisoned culture and to stop sucking at the breasts of market-tested nihilism and brand-name conformity; to stop the sewer-flood of Hollywood-funded debauchery and sadism into our homes; to speak the gospel Truth to the dark powers of “might makes right” moralities; to witness against the suicidal, all-you-can-eat buffet of liberal religious candy our children are fed daily...even in our Catholic schools. Lent is a time for you to remove your lips from the honeyed breasts of genetic science and its Faustian promise of near-immortality. You will live forever but not by murdering a child; you can be beautiful forever but not at the price of harvesting our children like melons.

Lent is a time for you to calculate with cold reason and a clean heart your commitments in this world. Where are you bound? To whom do you owe your money, your livelihood, your dignity…your soul? Who owns you? What ideas possess your mind? What passions fuel your heart? What images cloud your vision? What do you worry about and why? Here’s the question with which to examine your conscience before confession: exactly how would anyone know Jesus owns me body and soul?

Know the answers! You must. Because the desert knows and the desert will tell. The desert will tell the Devil and he will color in those drab images, season those dull fumes, stoke the fires of weak passion. He’ll parade your desires, sharpened and concentrated, parade them before you, lying to you, pampering you, telling you how much you deserve what you cannot possibly need and only vaguely want. When those ashes were traced on your forehead…at that moment, what did you want? Mercy? Forgiveness? Love? To be seen as pious? You will find it in the Lenten desert. But will your desires look like gifts among all that scarcity?

Pay careful attention to the gospel. Jesus went into the desert to pray, right? No. He went into the desert to fast, right? No. He went into the desert to start his new diet? No. Of course, he prayed and fasted. But he didn’t go into the desert to do those things. Rather he “was led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days to be tempted by the devil.” He went to the desert so that he could be tempted. The devil tempted him with food, power, and worship. Jesus refuses each in turn. He quotes scripture and dismisses each temptation as a mere shadow of what His Father offers. The devil offers Jesus illusion, impermanence. And he will offer you the same. And you will accept his offer unless you understand with near perfect clarity and will what you want, what you desire as a faithful follower of Christ.

Lent is not about avoiding temptation. Lent is about walking the hot sand of deprivation so that what tempts you worms its way to the surface. Discomforted, what tempts you selfishly proclaims its own praise, shouts it own name. Not yours. And then you know the truth: you are not your sin; you aren’t even the sum total of all your sins! Yes, you’ve fallen, given in, even welcomed Rebellion and Disobedience into your life. Praise God then that Lent is about clearing the wreck of your worldly life so that He Who moves you at your core, rises, speaks His name with authority, claims your soul, and makes your life among the things of this world a tireless prayer, a breathless hymn, and an inexhaustible fiat! This is more than a mere reminder of who’s in charge of your Christian life; it is a renewal of the bond of affection between Father and child, the rediscovery of an unshakable peace and infallible grace.

Generous hat tip to Amy Welborn


Fr. Philip Powell, OP said...

Mornin' Gents,

Fr. Philip Powell, OP here. This is my homily from the 1st Sunday of Lent. I'm a campus minister and theology prof at the University of Dallas. All of my homilies are posted and Podcast at my site:

Thanks for the mention...God bless!

Fr. Philip

Porthos said...

Thanks for dropping in, Fr.! And thanks for a very challenging homily. Nice site!

Athos said...

Powerful preaching, Fr Philip, and great post, Porthos. Thank you!

Porthos said...

The hardest thing about doing that post was searching old ones for those blockquote HTML code thingees and doing the ole pasterola. But, yes, I think I did that search and paste operation with a certain amount of zest, no?

Anonymous said...

That is a remarkable sermon. I'm linking.

Athos said...

Oui, mon ami!

Porthos said...

[Slaps self.] D- Did my eyes deceive me, or did Anchoress just comment here? You mean, we can get Anchoress to link and comment here just by quoting from a homily written by Fr. Phil?

I- I- I'm just not ready to deal with this . . .

OK, OK, wait. [looks around] OK. [musses up hair, untucks shirt, adopts James Deanish pose]

Hey, Anchoress. How ya doin'? Drop by any time you like, kay?

Porthos said...

This must be how grace works. Did we write the homily? No, Fr. Phil did. Did we discover the homily? No, Amy Welborn did. So, what did we do? Nothing. We just pointed. A tiny movement of the will, away from us and toward the Author. Yet, no sooner do we do that then we get visited by the Author Himself, and then by a Nice Lady.

Does this allegory hold up or do I need work on it?

Athos said...

Which illustrates your point in the comment on James Cameron and his debut divinity debunking debacle: though minor, the voice if faithful can work in myriad ways in the economy of God's grace.

You've even convinced me to pray for said Mr. Cameron's soul, though not desperately, Porthos!

Like the other ministrations of grace, a cool prayer works just as well as the emotional one. Ex opere operato. I have a hunch Jonah delivered his speech on the streets of Nineveh in a whisper. It still worked.

Gayle Miller said...

I just linked to this post. It's wonderful.

Thank you.

Porthos said...

Thanks, Gayle, for visiting and for linking.

The Massketeers would also like to direct Gayle and all visitors to a splendid series of Lenten posts, "40 Days, 40 Graces" over at
Suicide of the West