Fifth Sunday of Lent Reflection

Fifth Sunday of Lent
Dr. Molly Cinnamon, Ed.D., Auxiliary Board Member for Belonging

I believe I am going through a crisis of faith. I’ve heard this phrase over and over, and I’ve never really considered its meaning. When I asked AI to define it for me, it said, “A crisis of faith is an intense, painful period of doubt regarding one’s core religious or spiritual beliefs, often characterized by confusion, anger or feeling disconnected from God.” 

When I read those words, it scared me. Is this what I am feeling? It seems so serious and as if there is nothing I can do, like a fearful diagnosis of some kind. But then, I read on and saw these words: “It feels like a spiritual emergency, prompting a necessary choice to redefine, deepen or abandon faith.” 

My next thought was sweet relief. Oh, good - I have a choice and I can fix this. AI even gave me a list of options that I can choose from to help me, such as:

• Embrace the Journey
• Be Honest with God
• Seek Community
• Study and Reflect
• Focus on Action

So, what did I do? I went to church with my mom. For a long time, my mom and I have been attending the early service on Sundays at the same episcopal church I grew up in and also where I got married. I haven’t gone in many weeks, mostly due to busyness and some laziness on my part. I love my mom dearly and treasure the time with her. We have very different understandings of the current state of our world and sitting in church with her sometimes feels disingenuous to me and additionally, hurts my heart as this is definitely a challenging time for our mother-daughter relationship. 

As I sat there next to her, I watched her.  She is almost 82, walks with a cane and church is her home. She is on every committee, knits prayer shawls with her friends, organizes all of the funeral food for the bereavement committee, attends every class the church offers and still works part time. However, she can’t understand why my heart is broken by the state of our country and our world right now.  The whole church can pray out loud for every intention but have coffee later in the adult forum and chat about things I will never comprehend. It feels like grief to me. 

During the service, I said out loud in my own head, “God, I need a sign that you are here and that you’ve got me.”
I’m not exaggerating when I say that the stained-glass window directly to my right where I was looking when I said those words came ablaze with sunlight, so bright it almost hurt my eyes, before fading back to normal.  It took my breath away. I felt tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. Astonished, and certain I had imagined it, I asked again. “Lord, is that you?” Once again, a strong, brilliant light came pouring through the window. I grabbed my phone and snapped a picture to remind me of this significant moment and when I pulled it up later to show my husband, it occurred to me that my mom’s beautiful profile was also in the picture, featuring her staring at the priest as he delivered his homily with this gentle smile on her face. 

Above the altar in our church, there is a solid beam with the words, “I am the resurrection and the life” painted in gold letters that I have looked at thousands of times but never really seen, if that makes sense. I said my wedding vows under that beam and became confirmed, my daughter also became confirmed in the same spot. When I went to read the Gospel for this particular Sunday in Lent for which I am writing this reflection, I was astonished to see that it was the story of The Raising of Lazarus.  It is in that Gospel reading that Jesus says those same words: “I am the Resurrection and the Life: whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Jesus asks this of Martha, as a test of her faith. This statement and question together are what helped strengthen disciples of Jesus and served as foreshadowing of Jesus’s death on the cross. 

To me, it served as another sign, in addition to the beautiful rays of light I witnessed in response to my own test of faith that morning. Reading those words, “I am the Resurrection and the Life” and potentially for the first time, actually comprehending their meaning, moved me. And then to see the words again today as part of the Gospel for the Fifth Sunday in Lent tells me I’m not in a crisis of faith at all. I’m being challenged, tested and I need to choose love, now more than ever…with my faith journey, my gratitude practice, and certainly with my mom.

Amen.