First Sunday of Lent

When we look closely at our icon, Christ the Healer, we see, in very small but clear detail, darkened images of demons rising above the head of Mary Magdeline, spinning away towards empty space. The images represent the seven demons Jesus cast from her. She holds a vessel containing the oil used for the anointing of the sick, a symbol of healing, and, as the one receiving the vessel of oil, of Mary's faith in Christ, her healer.

The images of the demons are almost invisible. The figure of Christ holds our attention and focus, his powerful healing presence capturing our imagination, our hearts moved with contemplative devotion. The demons seem insignificant in the larger composition, yet they are there, but in crisis. Contrast the disarray and chaos of the demons with Mary, her face very much at peace, her posture restful. As we pray with the icon, its message seems clear. We are to have trust, trust in Christ to heal us, and to have faith, faith in Christ who casts out all that does us harm and strips us of our dignity—demons, temptations, sins, and fears.

People in recovery will use language referring to “their demons” during their work of rehabilitation. They face their demons as they do a moral inventory and begin the path of recovery, turning from a life of self-centeredness, beginning the process of healing, and humbly acknowledging their dependence on God.

It is pretty certain, that at some point in life, all of us have to look at our “demons”. We face the painful truth how some of our actions, or some habitual behavior, are sinful. We turn to God to find forgiveness, healing, and the strength to amend our lives.

Returning to our icon. The presence of Christ and his healing power diminishes any sin, scatters any demon, brings peace to any soul who turns to him with trust and faith. As St. Paul writes in today's second reading, “...for if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” Christ forgives our sins and opens the way for us to live anew. Our guilt is changed to hope. Christ grants us the grace we need to be changed. We ponder again the words we heard this past Wednesday, as ashes were rubbed on our foreheads, “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel.” Through the season of Lent, we look both at our demons and at Christ, both at our guilt and our hope. Lent is our opportunity to live with hope.

As we begin the season of Lent, how can we be spiritually nurtured? Of course, we are called to fast, pray, and give alms as a way to find spiritual renewal. The language we use during Lent is not usually about nurturing but more about giving up and abstaining. Yet, all three of todays readings refer to things that nurture—the people of Israel offering to God a basket of produce from the land; St. Paul implies in his letter being fed with the Word; the first of the temptations of Jesus is to eat after many days without food. All three readings point, even if indirectly, to God as the source of all that nourishes us.

Heard in the context of our liturgy, we see the connections with the Eucharist. During Lent, we seek the simplicity of things to nurture us, beginning with simple gifts of bread and wine we share in the Eucharist. We begin with Christ, and find the one who nourishes us, heals us, and leads us into this Springtime of our Church and the renewal of our lives.