Deuteronomy 26:1-11

On some websites before letting you submit any information, they ask you to verify that you are not a robot hacking their website, so they have this verification form that says: “Verify Humanity!” the idea of verifying humanity is funny to me. The first time I paid attention to this expression I said “oh boy, I am going to fail this one.” Every time I see it I wonder within myself, what if every single person had to go through a verification tool that measures humanity –not as in human nature (which of course is what is meant on websites) but as in humanness. Also, it makes me smile as I muse on the fact that every single person using this webpage has to go through that same test, no matter their position. And I wonder if, when they do, people ever ponder their chances of passing a humanity test. I also wonder if there was a humanity test, what would it look like?

Friends, in some way Lent is a humanity test. Most Christians begin this season by a ritual of placing ashes on the forehead as a sign of humanity. And though I am not much of a rituals person, but I find the symbol of the ashes on the forehead a powerful reminder of our humanity and therefore mortality. Along with the ashes, the line is recited: “Remember oh human that you are dust and to dust you return.”

 
What happens if we take the statement that we are dust and we are going back to dust to the next level? If we encountered every person with the reality that we share the same humanity, that one day we will both be ashes. I bet many of our actions will be different.

But what happens also if we reflect on our relationships with our own selves with the idea in mind that we are dust and ashes. Would you still live your life the same way? Would you add anything or remove anything?

I know it isn’t logical or healthy to live every single day anticipating our death, it might even lead us into depression, but thankfully the church created a season for that, a much needed period to rethink and remodel our lives and hopefully get rid of all that we need to let go.

 
The forty days of Lent are symbolic of the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness which in its turn is another symbol of the forty years the Hebrews spent on their journey to the land of promise, throughout which the community learns and expands and changes and opens up to new possibilities. And thus the connection the church fathers made between Lent and the Exodus. Exodus is a story of rebellion and disobedience causing disconnection from God and then of return and restoration. But more than that, it is a story of wandering, of being lost and not having a home. A notion that some of us are more familiar with than some others.

 
During the past week, I was helping a friend move from Sacramento to Green Valley. Since this area is closer to the bay area, houses are more expensive, so she and her husband decided to downsize, and therefore they needed to get rid of a lot of their furniture and other belongings. All of their stuff is new, so it wasn’t easy for them to let go of some things, but they had no choice. However, despite the sadness of having to compromise things they loved, my friend said that there was something freeing about letting go of things, and about knowing that they will do well even without a lot of their precious belongings.

Lent is this idea of letting go, for some people it is pancakes or meat, yet for others it is letting go of things that we could live without but that we hold precious. It is an invitation to a journey of being itinerants, carrying only what helps us survive, and leaving behind the things that would burden us and slow us down. For the Hebrews, it took them forty years to figure out what those things are, to finally let go and trust that God will provide all they are going to need during that journey.

 
Like the community of the Hebrews, churches have an institutional memory. They have patterns, healthy or unhealthy, that they have followed for years or decades. Letting go of those is not easy, but sometimes it is inevitable if they were going to walk on a journey of transformation and renewal.

As individuals we live this struggle too, what should we hold on to, and what would we better just let go? What are the things, ideologies, habits, relationships, memories or even beliefs that distract us and distort us? Lent is the time to reflect on those and let them go.

 
During this season we remain alert for God’s presence, sometimes in ways that comfort and support us as well as in ways that challenge and change us. May we walk this journey with careful receptiveness to the Spirit’s dealings and with complete trust in God as a guide. Amen.