Transfiguration and the Lenten Season

Today is Transfiguration Sunday. The texts for today are majestic in their story, movement, and sweep: Exodus 24:29-35, Psalm 99, Luke 9:28-36, and 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2. These texts are brilliant because they do more than remind us of the power of the transformative brilliance of God on the lives of those who encounter God. They serve as a doorway into the Lenten season, a season of repentance, of cleansing, of metamorphosis. Today we are given the glorious hope that we have a place in our story, that, like the narratives of Moses and Jesus, we too are "being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another." Of course, with that insight comes the reminder and realization that we have not arrived, we are not complete on this journey. Opportunities and, better, demands for growth abound. Repentance is not optional, but necessary. This life of faith, this personal and inner-transfiguration in the lives of believers demands a renewed conviction, a recommitment to following the way of Jesus up to the cross. So, this week we once again make the yearly turn from Transfiguration Sunday to Ash Wednesday to begin the journey with Jesus from glory ("It's good for us to be here.") to cross ("It is complete.").

As I think about the Lenten season, I am reminded of my own lack of commitment to prayer. I struggle with prayer, because I have little use for most of the "Christian" prayer that I hear. More often than not it seems to be an attempt to cajole God to provide a laundry list of things that we want, much like a birthday list. I know that there is a place for such lists, but I worry that the way we have been taught to pray these lists have deeper roots in our consumer culture than in the Christian worldview. (I admit that it's my cynicism talking here.)

The type of prayer that resonates with me is prayer that is forged in silence and simplicity. It is painful prayer, for it forces me to face my own inadequacy, my own weakness, my own failing in the face, especially when I find myself coming before the presence of the Holy Wholly Other. But in my busy world (a business that simply protects my own need to feel relevant and shields me from time for this kind of prayer) I have little space to cultivate this kind of prayer life.

So, one of my commitments this Lenten season is to rediscover prayer. I am going to start with a good old friend, the Jesus Prayer. It is a simple prayer, widely practiced in the EO tradition, that can be prayed rhythmically with your breathing. The repetitive and rhythmic nature of the prayer draws you into deeper contemplation. (In that way, it is very similar to the meditative, prayerful flow of a Taize' hymn.)

"Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me."

To round out the Trinitarian focus of my prayer life, I plan to add two similar prayers I discovered in N.T. Wright's Simply Christian.

"Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, set up your kingdom in our midst."

and

"Holy Spirit, breath of the living God, renew me and all the world."