Today’s reflections on Lent is that I did not reflect very much on Lent. Today was very much like all of the other days this year that I have gotten up, gone to work, come home and pittled away the rest of the evening without thinking too much about God. It could have been lingering effects of the stress that I have been under with a sick granddaughter, or a day of juggling my time trying to keep the patients moving and not having to wait too long for their tests while trying to cover multiple sites with a bare minimum of employees. With any luck some anticipated new employees will soon alleviate this burden, but for now I must carry it daily.
At any rate, when I arrived home from work an hour and a half after I normally do I had almost no energy left. A nap, I reasoned, would be sufficient to rejuvenate me and enable me to attend our church’s weekly Home Community meeting at some friends’ house, and it probably would have been except that I didn’t wake up until well after the group would have come together and begun their meeting. I regret missing Home Community. I really do enjoy getting together with those good people, eating wonderful dinners and talking about God. It’s one of the highlights of my week. It just didn’t happen this week and contributed to the general flatness that I feel tonight.
I wonder if Jesus ever felt this kind of flatness. Probably not. He was God after all, and probably had enough irons in the fire to keep his spiritual edge keen and ready for work. But Jesus was also human too. One hundred percent human. Isn’t it at least conceivable that Jesus was subject to the same impulses, or lack of impulses, and frailties that have plagued the rest of us mortals as we walked our sometimes dreary paths on this earth? I don’t really know the answer to that, but I think that it’s at least worth pondering.
About the other saints I have no doubt. Paul, with his thorn in the flesh, most certainly had times when he was simply thinking “I wish I could get that damned thorn out”, and the Ephesians or Romans or whoever just had to wait another day to get their church founded or receive that letter that they were waiting for. And Martin Luther, when he was not wrestling with a Pope who could easily have him burned at the stake, spent hours squatting on the can and wrestling with painful and persistent constipation. I wonder which situation Mr. Luther thought was the worse? I have little doubt however that, between working out his 95 Theses and writing his Three Treatises Mr. Luther spent at least a little of his time wishing that he could just drop that log and get off of the pot, where his legs had long since gone numb while sitting there and waiting for something good to happen.
And on it goes, I assume, for the rest of struggling humanity. Some days you are founding churches and writing theses and some days you just want relief from a nagging pain or to be able to take a dump. Today has been one of those latter days for me. It seemed sufficient to slog through a day’s work and wake up from a nap in time to eat dinner, write a thoroughly non-spiritual reflection on the fifteenth day of Lent and then get ready to go to bed.
So there it is. I hope that you, reader, had a more Spirit-attuned day today than I did, and I hope that the Spirit floods me with thoughts and observations tomorrow. For today, I can report that I made it through to the end with no particular spiritual insights given me over the course of the day. I suppose it is possible that I’m in good company,