In Secret

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent.  And of course, the familiar reading about how we are to enter this season of fasting:

"Do not be like the hypocrites,
who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners
so that others may see them.
Amen, I say to you,
they have received their reward.
But when you pray, go to your inner room,
close the door, and pray to your Father in secret.
And your Father who sees in secret will repay you."


It is this hidden, secretiveness that is particularly speaking to me as we prepare to enter into Lent.  A few weeks ago, we saw in the scriptures that Jesus spoke in parables to the crowds, but spoke more clearly and directly to the apostles when he gathered them away from the crowds.  As a busy mother with a very hectic life, it's not hard to see why this makes so much sense to me.  Those crowds of people, they're wonderful.  Full of life and joy, and in many cases people hearing the word for the first time.  But for those of us who have been on the journey for a little while now, Jesus is calling us to something deeper, more thoughtful, more...silent.

Jesus tells us the ones who pray in synagogues and street corners, in other words for others to see and notice them, have received their reward.  So often I have taken this as a warning not to brag and be boastful about Lent (or for that matter, anything that I do with regards to my journey with Christ). And I suppose it is that.  But somehow today, it seems less of a warning, and more of an invitation.

I am discovering as I journey deeper into myself and look back over my experiences, just how much I desire to be seen by people. The older I get, the more I grow tired of the superficial, and in fact become almost hurt when it seems that's all people can give.  I have this deep, insatiable desire for connection.  And when I hear today's reading, I hear an invitation.

"Come deeper with me," Jesus is saying. For years I have wanted to surround myself with people, assuming this would fulfill what I desire so deeply.  But for me, this reward is not enough.  For surely in a large crowd, one is seen. But are they truly known, valued, understood?  This, alas, takes time and relationship, and ultimately I think cannot be fully satisfied within the constructs of human relationships (though good friendships can certainly be a help).

"Close the door, and pray to your Father in secret," Jesus tells us.  It's that preferential friendship He is offering me this Lent.  How special the apostles must have felt to have been gathered in this way. Jesus recognized in them a seriousness, a desire that goes beyond the superficial to know Him in a deeper way, and He gathered them away from the crowds to nurture and grow this desire.  This is precisely the way He wants to meet each one of us this Lent.  Not to tell us not to brag or boast (which obviously we shouldn't do), not to reprimand or induce guilt, but to invite us to that sacred sweet place that is union with Him, relationship, unity - being seen.

"And your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you."  May the grace of Christ guide each one of us to the fullness of this reward over this time of Lent.