The following reflections were included in various Lenten devotionals prepared over the years by members of First Presbyterian Church, St. Cloud.
It Only Takes One
Romans 5:12, 17-19
“Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.” —Romans 5:18
I acknowledge with respect that the place where I live and work is located on unceded Indigenous lands. Those words struck me as I read them within the email signature line of someone whom I respect. His statement continues to acknowledge the specific tribes on whose land he now lives and works before concluding: I am grateful to work in this community, on this territory.
You may have seen or heard similar wording elsewhere. Some academic conferences begin with such acknowledgments, and institutional websites may state something along the same lines. It’s called “indigenous protocol,” and it is appearing more frequently in Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the United States.
For me, the season of Lent constitutes a similar kind of protocol, one in which we acknowledge the sin in which we live. After all, what makes sin so pernicious is the fact that it’s everywhere. Even the very space we inhabit entails past injustices of which we are often unaware. That’s what Paul means when he says that it only takes one of us to bring sin into the world. Ever since Adam ate from the wrong tree, we’ve been passing along our sins to our children and theirs.
The good news is that it only takes one to deliver us! Adam may have gotten us into this mess, but Jesus Christ lifts us out of it. So, as we observe Lent this year, let us first acknowledge all the ways in which we profit from sin and allow it to continue. And then let us ask for the grace of Christ to redeem us from it—forever.
Paying Better Attention
“For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace.” —Romans 6:14
It was the quintessential college experience: I was on my way into an exam after pulling an all-nighter. My eyes could barely focus, but my mind was geared up to write an essay on whatever conglomeration of concepts I had spent the past ten hours studying. I didn’t hear my friend greet me in the hall outside the classroom; I didn’t realize that I’d been extremely rude to ignore him like I did. I wasn’t paying attention.
That’s kind of how sin operates, isn’t it? We can be so focused on doing our own thing that we completely ignore those whom we hurt. We may intend to offer words of encouragement or consolation—and yet the other party can (mis)hear those words as patronizing or judgmental. Oh, but I didn’t mean it that way. Legally speaking, our intentions may “excuse” us, but harm is still done. That’s what living “in sin” looks like. It’s all around us, domineering us, whether we like it or not. Whether we intend it or not. Whether we even notice it—or not.
Lent, however, is an opportunity to pay better attention. Sure, we know we’re sinners, but we tend to be ignorant of which sins we’re actually guilty of. Observing the season of Lent helps us to stop, look at those around us, and take account of how our actions affect their lives. Of course, we can’t do this without the grace of Christ. As Paul writes, through grace sin no longer has dominion over us. So let us in turn be gracious to one another. And pay better attention.
Don’t Eat the Barbecue
1 Corinthians 8:7-13
Paul’s instruction to avoid “idol meat” confused me as a youth active in Bible study. Was he advocating vegetarianism? But once the historical context was explained to me by a professor in college, I immediately saw its relevance to my own life.
The vibrant port city of Corinth had a diverse array of religious traditions, with festivals throughout the year honoring various gods. For each festival, a wealthy benefactor would buy up a herd of sheep or cattle to be ritually spit-roasted, with the smoke drifting upward to please whichever god was in reverence that day. Then the meat would be passed out to the crowds—a ritualized version of the Minnesota State Fair’s “anything-on-a-stick”!
The Christians in Corinth, however, faced a vexing question: “Can we eat the barbecue?” Some believed it was idolatry, while others thought it was no big deal. But Paul’s answer to both sides is brilliant. If you don’t believe in the false god, he says, then eating some free barbecue is hardly an act of irreverence. But then he adds that there are fellow Christians with “weak consciences” who don’t get this point and by seeing other Christians eating the barbecue, are scandalized, and their faith is confused. For the sake of one another, then, Paul says, do not eat the barbecue!
In my immediate context, I translated this “idol meat” as alcohol. For various reasons, many of my classmates struggled with alcohol, so I sensed that abstaining from it was God’s call. With the passage of time, I have discerned other activities that although “permissible” may not necessarily be “beneficial” (see 1 Cor 10:23). More generally, however, I have come to see this text as about abstinence from the insistence on being “right.” Christians can argue over this or that doctrine or moral stance, but being “right” on any given issue doesn’t compare to being “right” with one another.