Rend Your Heart and Not Your Garments
This week's Old Testament reading is from Joel, a book of the Bible I don't remember ever reading.
I was struck by this phrase--"Rend your heart and not your garments"--because it reflects a constant tension between being attentive to ritual and being attentive to the "real world," as well as the tension between being a visible person who demonstrates how to do justice and live in love, and a person who prays in secret, whose relationship with God is personal.
I would argue that all of these aspects of faith--ritual and real world action, visible acts of justice and a personal, inside-the-heart relationship with one's higher power--are equally important.
Acts of justice, and inspiring others by making those acts visible, of course yields the most fruit in the world in the form of social change.
But rending one's heart--and doing the rituals that one has learned or adopted, the equivalent of rending one's garments--are also necessary to ensure that the acts of justice are done in a spirit of humility and reverence, compassion and ongoing repentance.
Rend your heart: Be willing to allow your heart to be broken open. Be willing to own up to your own failings, all the ways you fall short of living a life of justice and compassion. Be real and honest with God. Be real and honest with yourself. Take time in private to practice the rituals that allow for this mind-set and heart-set.
Rend your garments: This reading in Joel tells us that the rending of the heart is more important than the rending of garments. Cast off the rituals that are more for show than for spiritual growth. Adopt new ones that lead to heart-rending. But do the rituals, alone and with others. Do them so that you stay connected to a history of faith, even if you have rejected parts of that history. That legacy shaped you. You can reshape it, without forgetting or rejecting it completely.
Act justly, in secret and in the light: Some acts of justice need to be done in secret. Some can be done in the light, to demonstrate a path for others, to provide inspiration. But it is important to make sure these acts are balanced by the rending of hearts; otherwise, we might begin to act out of pride rather than compassion, might begin to forget to pay attention to our own failings.
This Lent, I hope to find a balance among all of these aspects of faith. I hope this Lenten ritual of daily reflections--unedited, raw, written and posted at the end of my spiritual reflection time--will be a step in meeting this hope.
I was struck by this phrase--"Rend your heart and not your garments"--because it reflects a constant tension between being attentive to ritual and being attentive to the "real world," as well as the tension between being a visible person who demonstrates how to do justice and live in love, and a person who prays in secret, whose relationship with God is personal.
I would argue that all of these aspects of faith--ritual and real world action, visible acts of justice and a personal, inside-the-heart relationship with one's higher power--are equally important.
Acts of justice, and inspiring others by making those acts visible, of course yields the most fruit in the world in the form of social change.
But rending one's heart--and doing the rituals that one has learned or adopted, the equivalent of rending one's garments--are also necessary to ensure that the acts of justice are done in a spirit of humility and reverence, compassion and ongoing repentance.
Rend your heart: Be willing to allow your heart to be broken open. Be willing to own up to your own failings, all the ways you fall short of living a life of justice and compassion. Be real and honest with God. Be real and honest with yourself. Take time in private to practice the rituals that allow for this mind-set and heart-set.
Rend your garments: This reading in Joel tells us that the rending of the heart is more important than the rending of garments. Cast off the rituals that are more for show than for spiritual growth. Adopt new ones that lead to heart-rending. But do the rituals, alone and with others. Do them so that you stay connected to a history of faith, even if you have rejected parts of that history. That legacy shaped you. You can reshape it, without forgetting or rejecting it completely.
Act justly, in secret and in the light: Some acts of justice need to be done in secret. Some can be done in the light, to demonstrate a path for others, to provide inspiration. But it is important to make sure these acts are balanced by the rending of hearts; otherwise, we might begin to act out of pride rather than compassion, might begin to forget to pay attention to our own failings.
This Lent, I hope to find a balance among all of these aspects of faith. I hope this Lenten ritual of daily reflections--unedited, raw, written and posted at the end of my spiritual reflection time--will be a step in meeting this hope.
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