An abundance of weakness

Marilyn and I got our second dose of the COVID-19 vaccination yesterday (Ash Wednesday).  I’ve been praying to God that we get the shots so that we can return to a “normal” life sooner, rather than later.  At the same time, I’ve been dreading getting them because of all of the talk about side effects.  I’m such a weakling when it comes to pain, even if it’s just a little discomfort.

Upon reflection on the scriptures for the first Thursday after Ash Wednesday, with my fears in mind, I keep going back to one basic question:  What’s the one thing we all have in great abundance that God wants?  Indeed, God seems to beg us to give this one thing to Him because He doesn’t have it.  It’s our weakness.  Saint Paul puts it eloquently.  “But he said to me, my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Yesterday, with the simple ritual of ashes for many, we began our Lenten journey.  The ashes aren’t a sign of our holiness.  Rather, they’re a symbol of our weakness.  They mean that if we want to follow Jesus, we must die to ourselves, lose our lives, our weakness, in His grace and power (Luke 9:22-25).  That’s the journey of repentance, of metanoia.  Lent is the time to change our hearts, our minds – and our direction – in order to follow Christ.

But metanoia isn’t easy.  On the contrary, we’re rather skilled at disguising our weaknesses as strengths, even as virtues.   Aren’t perfectionists virtuous at heart?  They’re just trying to make things right, to follow the rules.  And when someone breaks a rule, they’re ready to correct them, to “improve them.”  It’s for their own good.  But watch out.  When the rule-breaker doesn’t listen, the perfectionist gets angry.  Or what’s wrong with someone who wants to love and care for us?  Nothing, unless they demand love – and recognition – in return.  When they don’t get it, then love becomes manipulative.  Those who demand that kind of love will carry our cross – and then send us the bill.

It’s only when we die to ourselves and the ego that disguises our weakness for virtue, only when we lose our lives in the life of Christ that we will be strong in the truest sense of the word.

During this Lenten season, we’re invited to take up our cross.  It’s the cross of our weakness.  We’re called to follow Jesus.  It’s the way of metanoia, when in grace we change our direction.

“Blessed are they who hope in the Lord!”  (Psalm 40:5)