Lent Day 2: Clothes

I decided clothes needed to be on the early end of our 40 days, as it is a process when it comes to figuring out what fits/doesn't fit, what you wear/don't wear (and when was the last time you wore item X), getting over the guilt of those things that fit but you know you never wear, as well as owning that while you love the memories of item Z, it no longer fits/is fit for public viewing. 

I recently found a useful idea in Real Simple magazine. If you want to figure out what clothes you do and don't wear, turn all your hangers around so they are "backward". Then as you wear things and rehang them, turn the hanger so it faces the proper way. Then, after a period of time (of your own designation), you'll know what you wear and don't wear.

But once you've done that, there is still the question of enoughness. Even if you do wear it, do you need it? What is enough? Be it jeans, slacks, skirts, shirts, t-shirts, sports coats, or sweaters.

Perhaps you heard the story of the Australian morning show host who quietly wore the same blue surge suit every day for a year to see if viewers noticed, given how viewers frequently commented on his female co-host’s clothing. It was his act of protest against disproportional value put on what his co-host looked like instead of her skills. There’s a montage here, showing his outfit in its limited variations for 2014.

Now I’m not suggesting that you should have only one suit/dress. However I do think it is helpful to a) step back and ask "Is the extent of my modern wardrobe driven by the expectations of others or what I think are the expectations of others?" and b) consider going your own way and decide what enough looks like.

And as you proceed with culling your wardrobe, reflect on this text from Luke 3:9-14 and the questions that follow:

“Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” 

And the crowds asked [John], “What then should we do?” 

In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 

Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 

Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” 

He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

What does enough look like? When do your desires for more negatively impact your neighbor? What is the relationship (or inverse relationship) between bearing good fruit and wanting & taking more than we need (even if we have legal access to that more)?

The Good News in a Cross of Ash

For out of [the ground] you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return. ~Genesis 3:19b

These are the words spoken on this day, during the imposition of ashes. Words that remind me of my very real mortality. That no matter how much moisturizer, exercise, healthy eating, nor my socio-economic status, education, faith life, etc., change the truth that I am growing older. I will die. 

Generally, I don’t like to dwell on that fact. I’m in that age group where I probably should have some sort of will, but don’t. Because I like to believe that I am too young yet. While there’s the possibility of accidental death, that won’t be me. I’ve got years and years and years. Right? 

Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, at some point I will die. The water in my body will evaporate, that which remains will turn to dust. And nothing can stop that. 

I am dust. To dust I shall return. 

And while a rather in-my-face statement, for me it is not a frightening statement. For I know that my Redeemer lives. 

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. ~Romans 6:5

It’s not just ash – dust –  rubbed on my forehead and words affirming my mortality spoken. Those ashes are in the shape of a cross. And in that cross is the implicit promise of Christ as my redeemer. 

If I keep Christ central in my life, I can face my fears. My fears of my mortality. My fears that I am not enough. My fears of being forgotten. Maybe you too have variations of those fears, or others that stalk you.

But in facing our fears, in trusting that in Christ we are claimed as children of G-d – forever, then those fears no longer run the show.

One of the things that fears do is make us cling to things. For some, buying things makes them feel alive. For others, in being able to have things it provides a sense of assurance of being alive. For others, having the right things means feeling like they are keeping up with the Jones’. At least for that one moment.

But stuff only gives us a fleeting feeling of enoughness. Too often what stuff actually does is get in the way of our relationship with G-d. So much stuff there’s no room for the Holy Spirit. 

What is a classic Lutheran truth of faith is that in letting go, we find. That is having less, we discover abundance. That in no longer hiding behind things, we realize we’re standing in the light of G-d.

One of my Lenten practices is to intentionally let go of things. I invite you to join me for your own intentional practice. If you us Facebook, you can join Giving it Away for Lent, where we share scripture, articles, and other helps, as well as what we’ve let go of in our own homes.

Come and see.