I’ve probably done more reflecting on just what ‘happens’ during the keeping of a Holy Lent this year than in any other I care to remember.  Somewhere between my first Ash Wednesday service and the one that night I campe across the following quotation from Thomas Merton,

We must remember the original meaning of Lent, as the ver sacrum, the Church’s “holy spring”in which the catechumens were prepared for their baptism, and public penitents were made ready by penance for their restoration to the sacramental life in a communion with the rest of the Church. Lent is then not a season of punishment so much as one of healing.

From ‘Seasons of Celebration’

For me this little story captures much of what my Lent is going to be about.

Once upon a time there was a young couple who had their first child.  At about 5 years of age, the child began to leave toys strewn about his room at about bedtime shortly after moving into his ‘big boy bed’.  The parents were curious because the child had typically been very careful not to leave things lying about and was good about keeping things in order.  The watched with fascination and curiosity as the nightly regimen of leaving toy trucks, blocks, tops and most of all, Legos would find themselves littered about the room as bedtime approached.

After a time, curiosity got the better of them and they asked their son why he was being so messy with his toys in the evening.

He answered, “Because I want to make it harder for the monsters to get to me.”

They told the boy, as they had every night for as long as they could remember, “You are our child and we love you very much.  We’ll always protect you as best as we can.”

The boy looked at them believing his parents words, but doubting their ability to keep the monsters at bay, but his parents could tell that he was unconvinced.  They left the room carefull so as not to disturb the toys as they left.  They left the door half open per usual along with the light in the hallway.

It was late into the night that the call of the child awakened the parents and thay made their way to the bedroom door.  The paused briefly, knowing that there is little in this world that is more painful than stepping on the smallest of Lego pieces.  They just seem to stick.  The shuffled into the room moving the debris to both sides.

Kneeling by the bed, they repeated their mantra of commitment and care to their son, “You are our beloved child and we love you very much.  We’ll always do all that we can to keep you safe.  We’re here now, don’t be afraid.”

After a time he calmed and went back to sleep.

The parents carefully made their way back to their room hoping that the rest of the night would be uneventful. However, the pattern of waking in fear and calling out continued for a number of nights.

One night, maybe because of their fatigue, maybe because of the thunderstorm raging outside the window, the parents did not hear their son as quickly as they typically had.  Upon waking and not having his parents right there, the young boy lept out of bed and ran headlong toward the door.

Bang!  The toes on his right foot made contact with the big yellow bulldozer.  “Ouch!” he cried out.

His left foot then came down on two narrow, two button Legos.  “AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!”.  He hopped on his right foot until he made contact with the Lincoln Logs near the door.  He came down full force on the left foot, driving the Legos yet deeper into the soft flesh of the sole of his foot.

Just then, his parents burst through the door and gathered him in their arms and consoling him and brushing the Legos away.  That night, as you might imagine he slept the rest of the night in his parents’ bed.

The following night the parents noticed that something was different in the booby trapping of the bedroom.  There were still Legos, Lincoln Logs and all the rest on the floor, but this time there was a clear, straight path to the doorway leading to the hall the would bring the child safely to his parents should he awake afraid in the night.

As time went on, they parents noticed fewer and fewer obstacles between the bed and the door.  Things got quieter bit by bit, until the clutter was not so threatening.  Oddly enough some of the best times this family would have would be in clearing the clutter about the bed together to provide freer and easier access to one another in the dark nights with fear, anxiety and abiding care would strike at either end of the hall.

Fear was still there, but they understood that being together would vanquish fear in due course.

I hope the imagery is neither too obvious nor too obscure.

Lent, for me, this year is about allowing healing to take place.  For me it is the healing of my need to place obstacles in the way of my path to the God who promises, not that there will not be fearful times, but that together we can and will weather the storms, come what may.

May your Lent be Holy and Healing and may you and God work together to clear a path to be travelled easily and with confidence in the face of the fears that we all must face.