Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;

according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.

You desire truth in the inward being;

therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;

wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Let me hear joy and gladness;

let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and put a new and right spirit with me. -Psalm 51

I discovered a “treasure hidden in a field” a few years back when I flipped through the pages of a tiny bound book called Garden of Hollows: Entering the Mysteries of Lent & Easter at a flea market. In a classic “someone’s trash is another one’s treasure,” a flea market cast-off has become a gift that keeps on giving to me! What first drew me was the simple beauty of the book, with uneven hand-cut pages, a beautiful cover sheet with leaves pressed in and yet trying to burst out, and a few simple charcoal-like pictures. As I have read and re-read the book, taking care not to tear its delicate pages and bind, I remember why I am thankful it is so beautiful – because otherwise I would avoid ever opening it!

When I read the introduction which describes Lent as an invitation to “explore its hollows and, in so doing, to explore our own, to enter the sometimes stark spaces in our souls that we prefer to avoid,” I cringe. I have my hollows I like to avoid and being asked to “explore” them does not sound like a walk in the park. In fact, because hollows are usually shadowed and secret (and that’s how I want to keep it, thank you), exposing the contents fills me with fear.

 

The fear of exposure can be a strong force, and when I allow the fear to dictate my emotions and actions, I blindly run away from the people I love. But when I recognize the fear for what it is, I have the choice to claim it and “lean into it.” I think this is the painful process that Lent calls me into: the process of choosing vulnerability as a step towards love instead of running away.

 

Because like my beautiful and precarious treasure I found out of someone’s cast-offs, perhaps the most beautiful things are the most vulnerable and worn. As I embrace Lent and all that this season might take me through, perhaps I will discover that the secrets are not as evil as I think and the fears not as powerful as the love of friends, Beloveds and God – and a love for myself that I might learn to receive just as I am.  –Leah Clements