Making No Promises

Today the season of Lent begins! 40 days of reflection, confession, preparation for the celebration of life and resurrection on Easter morning.  I find myself eager for Lent this year (perhaps because it is so late?) as a -- quite literal -- break in ordinary time.  An opportunity to re-calibrate through new disciplines. Speaking of which, I'm making no promises BUT I'd like to blog a bit more.

Thankfully, our Lenten series on The Heidelberg Catechism is plenty of fodder for reflection.  This Sunday is our introduction to the series and a reflection on the very first Q&A combo in our 450 year old commentary on doctrine, faith and grateful living.  In case you don't yet know it, it goes like this:

Q: What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A: My only comfort in life and in death is that I am not my own but belong -- body & soul, in life and in death -- to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sin with his precious blood and set me free from the tyranny of the devil.  He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me whole-heartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.   

While I am unwilling to make promises, I am terribly grateful for the promises reflected even in this first Q&A.  Here's one I'm thinking about especially today:

"In fact, all things must work together for my salvation."  If that sounds familiar to you, it may be because you've read Romans 8:28 that says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

I appreciate the way the writers of the HC take the opportunity to provide clarity and comment on Paul's words in Romans.  Because, take a roll call of my congregation (and we are no different from any other in this regard) I can tell you that the list of conflicts, difficulties, illnesses, sorrows we carry aren't "good," in any simple or obvious definition of the word.  In fact, it would be pastoral malpractice to call many of these things "good."
BUT, say Zach and Casper (our intrepid catechism authors), all these things may yet be part of the salvation story written in us, around us and through us.  All these things must serve the purpose of my salvation. All these things may yet be redeemed.
When "all these things" aren't good, we can still hold God accountable to this purpose -- our salvation.
It doesn't make difficult things disappear.
It doesn't discount, diminish or deflect them.
But it might help us wonder how God might be in them, transforming them to the purpose of our salvation.
Perhaps transforming us in the process.