Day 1 of Lent: March 5, 2025

"But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. … So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal."—2 Corinthians 4:7-10, 16-18 (NRSV)

Lent is a season of paradox—a time of confession and grace, sorrow and hope, death and resurrection. It is a journey that begins in ashes and leads to Alleluia, calling us to authentic faith in the midst of struggle. The words of Paul to the Corinthians capture this beautifully: though we are fragile clay jars, holding the weight of life's hardships, we are never abandoned by God. However, the power that sustains us in both good day and bad does not come from ourselves, but from God who is at work even in our brokenness.

Lent is also a season that calls us to honest faith—not a faith that ignores hardship, but one that embraces both the reality of suffering and the hope of resurrection. It is a time to recognize our fragility and our need for God, yet also to hold on to the assurance that we are never abandoned. Paul’s words to the Corinthians remind us that though life brings affliction, confusion, and struggle, these do not have the final word.

We are indeed in Paul’s words like clay jars—ordinary, imperfect, and easily broken. And yet, within us is a treasure—the extraordinary power of God, shining through our cracks. The journey from ashes to Alleluia is a journey of learning to see the hidden beauty in brokenness, to trust that God’s light shines even in our darkest places, and to hold on to hope that cannot be seen but is more real than anything else.

Paul speaks to the deep struggles we all face. We are afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down—but we are never destroyed, never forsaken, never abandoned. This is the tension of Lent. We name our grief, our exhaustion, our questions—but we do not lose heart. God is at work in the unseen places. Even when we feel weak, we are being renewed day by day. Even when we experience loss, we are held by grace that does not fade.

Lent invites us to embrace this paradox: Death and life are woven together. Suffering and hope exist side by side. The cross and resurrection are part of the same story.

We live in a world that measures worth by what is visible—strength, success, perfection. But Paul reminds us that the most powerful things are not seen with human eyes. What seems temporary—our struggles, our pain—is preparing us for something eternal.

This Lent, we are invited to look beyond what is seen. To see God’s presence in the wilderness. To recognize that even in loss, something new is being formed. To trust that the story is not over yet.

Lent begins with ashes—a reminder of our mortality, our limitations, and our need for grace. But it does not end there. This season moves toward the Alleluia of Easter—toward the truth that God’s love is stronger than death, that darkness cannot overcome the light, and that hope is never in vain.

This Lenten journey is not about avoiding struggle, but about trusting in God’s renewal. It is about holding both lament and joy. It is about walking toward resurrection with honesty and faith.

So, as we step into these forty days, let us walk with courage and openness. Let us name the realities of our struggles but refuse to be crushed by them. Let us recognize the hidden work of God in our hearts and in the world. And let us hold fast to the unseen, eternal hope that is already breaking through.

Even when the road is long, Alleluia is coming.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.