Lent can be daunting. Rarely have I met anyone that looks forward to it. Yes, we need it, but that is an altogether different matter.
The three component parts of our Lenten observance we know: prayer, fasting and alms-giving. One aspect of prayer is Lectio Divina, otherwise known as spiritual reading. Today, it has never been easier to find good spiritual books – many are freely available online. So there is no excuse for not finding and reading a good book this Lent.
It is with this in mind that my attention was drawn to the book on the desk in front of me. Having been impressed by his Advent meditations, I sought out his Lenten ones. The man of whom I write is Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet. This 17th Century French priest is remembered as a master orator, a memorable homilist, and a brilliant stylist. It is true that even reading him in translation one is able to catch something of the beauty of his language, the power of his image, the persuasiveness of his argument. What would he have to say of Lent?
The Sophia Institute Press has published Bossuet’s Meditations for Lent for the first time in English. As with the Advent meditations, it is another slim volume, but its brevity belies its depth. As before in the earlier collection, these meditations come as a series of short chapters dwelling upon a theme this time connected to Lent season. As a piece of writing each chapter is finely wrought, combining Sacred Scripture, the Church Fathers and, most important of all, the burning zeal of the author. This is important; there are already many books devoted to this season of penance and prayer but, even so, Bossuet’s writings are to be recommended as his words edify and exhort. The relative brevity of each chapter has a practical benefit. Not least as it allows for the book to be picked up and put down between the daily tasks of busy lives after yet another sip of their spiritual medicine has been taken. Gradually the book’s ‘medicinal’ words reach the heart, giving pause for thought and, then practical resolution.
Very early on, there is a chapter entitled: The Journey to God. It is a perfect meditation with which to start Lent. In fact, the idea of ‘journey’ could be taken as the motif for the whole of this holy season now embarked upon. The chapter starts with the end in sight, namely, Passover. That was the decisive moment when the Chosen People began their journey towards something. Just as the Hebrews of old had to leave the comforts of Egypt so, now, all Christians are called to travel from this ‘world’ to our real home – one with the Father. And, like at that first Passover, we too must be clothed and shod, ready this Lent for our imminent departure.
For the Catholic, this all sounds non-controversial, until that is Bossuet asks the reader why there is so much hesitation in our setting off? To what are we still attached? What error pins us to this place of exile? These questions nag. Inevitably, the answers are as individual as each person. Nevertheless, at the start of this latest Lenten journey our guide is asking age-old questions and so helping uncover the prevarications that prevent us from answering the call to start out on our Exodus. He is uncompromising in his response to this lack of resolve:
‘Cowardly traveller: what do you fear? The journey that you make is the same one that our Saviour will make… Are you afraid to go with him? What is so lovable in this world that you are unwilling to leave it with your Saviour? Christian, you depart for a Father. The place you are leaving is one of exile, and you will return to the paternal home.’
There it is in a nutshell. We are meant to be on a journey; and, yet, we are often too frightened to begin, even if, in the end, it is a journey home. Bossuet’s questions cause us to seek reasons for this. Like the Israelites before us, perhaps we suspect that on any such journey we may well wander long and endure much hardship, often with no end in sight. Bossuet will have none of this, and, instead, tells us that we should relish the desert. ‘Let our journey be a perpetual one. Let us never stop, let us never remain in one place… may everything be a desert to us as it was to the [Israelites].’
The journey of which he speaks is, of course, an inner one. It is to journey from all we hold dear; dearer it seems than the destination to which we are travelling. In the pages of Meditations for Lent we have sound advice. Bossuet was a scholar who combined his knowledge of Holy Scripture with a thorough knowledge of the workings of the human heart and its desire for God. His approach is unexpected. Like a skilled physician, he keeps cutting away the ‘cancerous cells’, in this case our own self-delusions – the ones we have continued to live for and with for far too long. He never lets the reader rest in the comfort of complacency. No bad thing, for the journey ahead is hard: it is meant to be; perhaps, it needs to be.
‘Let us march, march, march, and make our journey…Let us die to the world daily. Let us say with the apostle: “I die every day.” I am not of the world. I am passing through, holding on to nothing.’
Our companion may seem at first exacting, but on any journey one wants two things: to have a sure guide and to arrive…
Lest we forget, this journey is more than just simply moving from ‘here to there’. It is more urgent than that. This Lent we have a choice: either to stride out into the desert and live or – ; as I write, another phrase, one also emanating from the French character, comes to mind: Marche ou crève! This is the unofficial motto for the French Foreign Legion, no stranger to deserts; and in English it is translated as: March or Die!
Now, as Ash Wednesday arrives, I find myself reaching for that book in front of me. Reflecting on its contents, I can but conclude that Bossuet’s volume Meditations for Lent is both a timely encouragement and a necessary warning.
Editor’s note: Meditations for Lent is available as an ebook and leatherette from Sophia Institute Press.
