Rest and Resilience: Following the Way of Jesus through Lent

Rest and Resilience: The Bethany Way

How do you know spring is coming in your little corner of the world?

Here in my hometown, most of the natural world loses its color for the winter season. Branches are bare, the sky is gray, and the ground is brown or white (or even worse, brownish-white as the snow and mud mix together). While Christmas lights add a delightful pop of color for a time, even the most persistent among us have typically turned off these little strings of joy by the beginning of February, their light packed away even while the nights are still long. I spend much of these in-between months yearning for the bright delight of summer, the colorful displays of health and life. I can remember how the sun feels in the vibrant times, the richness of spring blooms, and I watch for the first green of spring with vigilance.

Two years ago in the fall, my father, children, and I planted a tree in our backyard. It will someday be a beautiful magnolia, with star-like blossoms. I imagine watching the tree grow taller alongside my kids, the memory of planting the tree with my father a sacred one. Last spring, my daughter and I watched the bare branches with anticipation. Had the little sapling survived the winter? We kept vigil for weeks, ready to celebrate the first bud or hint of spring growth, disappointed when nothing happened. I don’t think the tree made it, Dad, I said in the middle of May. The branches look dead. There isn’t even a spot of green. I don’t think the tree survived. What I didn’t say was, "This tree can’t die, because I have expectations!"

But wouldn’t you know, the tree wasn’t dead! It was dormant and still, resting and preparing for the right season of growth. But oh, how I wanted to rush it along. We had life to live, after all!

The season of Lent can feel like a dormant time in the Christian rhythm. Six whole weeks of introspection, repentance, sacrifice … and do I really have to give up my love of baked goods? (No? Ok, good!) No matter the path, these weeks leading up to Easter are typically a little sparse, a little less colorful; each week can feel quite long as we eagerly anticipate the joy of Easter resurrection. Some of us wish we could skip the slower seasons of church and spiritual life altogether. We need some resurrection around here, you know?

Jesus knows there is holy work to be done in the world. There are relationships to mend, political divides to bridge, global wars to resolve, environmental healing to attend to, justice to bring about, and people to feed, clothe, and shelter. In scripture, Jesus says, the poor will always be with you (Matthew 26:11), and although we continue to work toward wholeness for all, he is right. We are in this for the long haul, friends.

So how do we survive the long winters? How do we sustain our response, as people of faith, with so many crises in the world and so many neighbors in need?

We rest. We nap. We sing, dance, create, and breathe. We take long, meandering walks through the lonely, bare woods. Or we sit in silence, producing nothing. We pray the Psalms, listen to the breeze, watch water move, plant a seed.

Really, you ask? Do we have time for all of that?

And I ask, do we have time not to?

In scripture, Jesus does a lot of powerful ministry in his short embodied life. He heals the sick, feeds the hungry, transforms religious practices and people’s hearts and minds. Jesus worked miracle after miracle. He changed the world. And yet, he also knew when to rest. He knew when to seek solitude and stillness as he listened for God’s voice; when to be vulnerable; when to cry and when to laugh; when to return to his sacred community; how to see the world with creative vision and new hope; and how to bring all of us along with him in resilient faith. Many times in scripture, Jesus’ moments of renewal and resilience are rooted in a small town built on a hillside—the town of Bethany.

This book of devotions follows Jesus’ journey as it weaves in and out of Bethany, just two miles outside of Jerusalem. Bethany is where a few of Jesus’ good friends lived, where he was able to rest and be vulnerable, to be anointed and healed himself, and to pray and prepare for difficult ministry ahead