Dear colleagues,

Recently, my almost-four year old has been on a big Star Wars kick. He wants to read some of his Star Wars Little Golden Books every night, and he’s taken to sleeping with his stuffed Darth Vader and Ewok. What I’ve noticed most, however, is how he refers to some of the Star Wars characters when he’s engaged in imaginative play. He is quick to point out that Darth Vader was good, and he will generally refer to Kylo Ren as Ben Solo. In all of this, I have been struck by how much my preschooler identifies these characters based on their redemption stories, and not on their worst moments and bad choices.

This has been on my mind lately because I have been thinking about the importance of the Lent, and why facing up to my own sinfulness is so very important. It is not the most pleasant activity in the world, and indeed there are many in the church who would tell me that I should stop talking so much about sin and preach on more positive subjects. Talking about sin can make us uncomfortable. It requires us to remember things we’d rather forget, and to be honest about ourselves when little white lies are so much nicer.

If that were the whole of the story that we as Christians had to tell—that we are sinful people who will continue to sin—then I would join with those who claim that I should speak less of my depravity. But the Good News is that the story of my own sinfulness, and of our collective sinfulness, is by no means our whole story. It’s only a part of it. Our story involves not only the cross, but the empty tomb as well. And that empty tomb gives me the courage to face up to those parts of myself I may not like so much, and to the things I’ve done or not done that I’d rather forget. It gives me that courage because it reminds me that death does not have the last word, and that my sins do not ultimately define me. Rather, it is my being a beloved child of God that is at the heart of who I am.

It seems to be a situation of extremes: when we start to think of our sinfulness, it’s easy to get caught up in that and only think of ourselves as sinful, depraved beings. We are that. But more importantly, we are God’s children. God does not see us as people defined by our worst moments and bad choices. Just as my son is able to see past Vader’s evil deeds to the good that was within, we should be able to see, acknowledge, and repent of our sins while also moving to our true identity: people who are loved by God beyond all measure.

This is an ordinary and sacred time in the church year when we are able to prepare ourselves for Ash Wednesday. May each of us use this time to find the courage we need to see ourselves truly this Lenten season, and as we stand in the shadow of the cross, may we look to the empty tomb and the hope that it brings.

Faithfully yours,
Hilary

This message was written by the Director of Pastoral Studies, Hilary Bogert-Winkler, for this week’s Wingèd Ox, a weekly news digest distributed to the college community.

(The image used to illustrate this post comes from the Belgian artist Roberto Salvador.)