This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel. (Mk. 1:15)
“Repent and believe in the Gospel.” Those words are an option, along with “Remember you are dust and unto dust you shall return” that the minister can speak as she or he applies ashes to the foreheads of the faithful on Ash Wednesday. While the traditionalist in me prefers the old formula (which reminds me of my mortality and inevitable reckoning before God), I have come to appreciate the immediacy of the call to reform in the more recently invoked expression.
The specific call to repentance came from Jesus and was quoted in the Gospel according to Mark. It is simple and direct—like the Gospel of Mark itself—and concisely summarizes the message of Jesus’s ministry: there is something wrong with the human condition and we need (with Jesus’s help) to get it right.
Mark probably didn’t hear that message directly—or if he did, it was from hearing an occasional sermon. He was a follower of Peter after Pentecost and it is probably from the apostle that Mark received the fullness of Jesus’s message.
Or not.
Mark rather dramatically recounts a young man in the garden of Gethsemane, “wearing nothing but a linen cloth about his body” seized by the crowd who came for Jesus, but who “ran off naked” having “left the cloth behind” (Mk 14: 51-52). Many scholars (though not all) suggest that the young man may have been Mark himself. If so, the evangelist places himself among Jesus’s disciples who consistently abandoned Him throughout His ministry, especially at this crucial moment in His life.
In other words, Mark reveals himself as one of us.
We don’t like to think about that—about how often we abandon the Lord. We don’t like to think about how often we sin. It’s not a pleasant subject, after all, especially when we take a hard look at our own moral failings. We rationalize our behaviors and euphemize them with words like “mistakes” or phrases like “errors of judgment.” But couching sin in more palatable words doesn’t change its reality. And the reality is that we sin and when we do, it at best damages and at worst destroys our relationships with God, others, and ourselves.
Every sin. Every time. Even our “secret sins.”
So we have been given the gift of Lent: a time to “repent and believe in the Gospel.” This is the opportunity where we can take the time—ashes on foreheads, like every other Catholic—and admit that we are weak, that we are “dirty.”
It is a time when we—collectively and as individuals—pray, fast, and give alms in response to our sinfulness. We pray because our sin alienates us from God. By praying we rebuild the friendship with Him which is damaged by our wrongdoing. In fasting, we, with God’s help, get control of ourselves. So much of our sin derives from disordered inclinations—the excessive desires for food, drink, sex, and/or leisure, for example. Fasting shows us that with God’s help, we can be temperate and keep those “hungers” under control…and if we can restrain those cravings, we can control just about anything else! Last, we give alms—not so much our money as our time and talents—and in doing so, give of ourselves to others. Visiting an elderly parent, offering to watch a sibling’s kids so he can have a “date night” with his wife, or advocating for those who are being treated unjustly can all serve as ways of “giving alms.”
But before all of that, we need to repent. To do so, we must admit our failings, turn back to the Lord, and join with the tax collector praying “Oh God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Lk. 18: 13).
Any time is a good time to repent, but Lent is special. In this moment we each have a decision to make: turn to the Lord or run away. If we believe in the Gospel, we know that if we follow Jesus “[our] Father will be pleased to give [us] the Kingdom” (Lk.12:32).
That is the invitation the Lord gives us this Lent, because if Mark is any indication, if we choose to run from Him, we’ll be left with nothing.
A.M.D.G. / B.V.M.H.