Lenten Disciplines and Leadership

 Friends, 

We are now in the Season of Lent, which began on Ash Wednesday of this week. Thanks to those of you who joined us for a very tactile service of remembering our baptism and then remembering our mortality with the words, “From dust you have come, to dust you will return.” 

I did not grow up in a church that observed Lent, much less Ash Wednesday. Any idea I had about Lenten disciplines was a vague sense that my Catholic friends ate fish on Fridays, and some people suffered through giving up dessert for a time. Even now, after almost 40 years of being Presbyterian, I feel like I’m still a bit behind the curve. If you feel that way also, just know this wisdom that someone shared with me once: There’s no right way or wrong way to observe Lent. Many saints have come and gone without even knowing about it, so Lenten observance is not essential to the Christian life. 

That said, I find the observance of Lent to be a wonderful way of tapping into both my own needs and the call to follow Christ. It taps into my needs because life is rhythmic – a blend of cyclical, year-after-year rotations around the sun as well as new things that our creative God is always doing among us. And the observance of Lent invites us into a deeper sense of Jesus’ words, “If anyone will be my disciple, let them deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me.” 

Earlier this week I reached out to many of the leaders that we have at St. Mark – the staff, our elders, and our deacons – to inquire if they were undertaking any Lenten disciplines that they would be willing to share with the rest of us. Because Lenten journeys are personal, I will not connect any names with the disciplines that others shared, but will give you an overview of the kinds of ways that we can drink deeply during this season. 

Some are being attentive to what they eat or drink: 

- Giving up a weekly stop after worship at a local restaurant for carnitas nachos (“they are the best!”); giving up chocolate; giving up meat on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, or completely; and avoiding junk foods like snack chips and French fries. 

- Avoiding tobacco, alcohol, or regular events where alcohol is the central focus. 

Some are taking on commitments: 

- Reading daily from the book Turning over Tables, by Kathy Escobar, and joining our weekly discussion on Wednesday evenings. 

- Watching our weekly Text Studies that are posted every Monday and joining the discussion on Wednesday mornings. 

- Reading Lenten devotionals online, such as the Presbyterians for Earth Care devotional found here.

-  Using the Lenten devotional within the Bible app, “Grow and Believe.” 

Some are tending an attending to their personal interactions: 

- intentionally avoiding or walking away from conversations that are “judgmental, critical, unkind, untrue, and unnecessary.

- being less hurried in my thoughts and physical presence.

Some are committing to daily or weekly routines:

- Exercising daily or a set number of times weekly

- Keeping a daily Lenten journal.

- Budgeting in order to make extra donations to our Deacon-supported organizations.

Some are trying to avoid conveniences that can have cumulative negative effects, such as: 

- Ordering food that comes in plastic containers

- Using Paypal or credit cards for online purchases.  

I remain impressed by the spiritual maturity and thoughtfulness that our leaders. And if any of these ideas inspire you, it’s not too late to step into either letting something go or taking something on for Lent. The point is not to see how heroic are sacrificial we can be, but to interrupt routines in order to live more intentionally as followers of Christ. May God bless you on that journey.

Mark of St. Mark

Doubly Marked

Doubly Marked 

And so, we gather.

A community doubly marked. 

The first is a watermark, 

generously bestowed on many of us 

at an age we don't remember. 

 

Time and again we hear the words: 

"Remember your baptism," 

assuring us that memory is more than 

what the mind retains. 

 

The second mark is the ash, 

one year oily; one year dry, 

each year a reminder 

in a solemn moment: 

"You are dust, 

and to dust you shall return." 

 

And so, we gather.

A community doubly marked. 

 

Declared on one occasion: 

"A beloved child of God." 

Declared on the other:

"Mortal, finite, destined to die." 

 

Both are true and one is 

as inescapable as the other. 

 

And so, we gather. 

A community doubly marked.

 

With varying degrees of 

doubt and certainty, 

pain and joy, 

confidence and fear, 

hope and despair, 

we gather. 

 

We gather because   

it is only by embracing our 

sure and certain death 

that we begin to live.

 

And so, we gather.

A community doubly marked.

 

A body, as it were, 

where each member is 

a microcosm of the cosmic truth:

“In life and in death, we belong to God.”

 

D. Mark Davis, 2026

Never Too Poor to Pay Attention

 ​Friends, 

I read this week that William James defined attention as “the sudden taking possession by the mind, in clear and vivid form, of one of what seems several simultaneously possible objects or trains of thought.” That comment drew me back into a thought bubble that I have been visiting for many years now, since reading Immanuel Kant description of the “act of attention” which he called aufmerkung, or 'marking out.’ Of all the sensations that bombard us in sight and sound at every moment, marking something out, paying attention, is a challenge.

 

Various writers along the way have tried to name what prevents us from paying attention. Neil Postman's 1985 book, Amusing Ourselves to Death, blamed television for reducing our ability to concentrate through an insatiable glut of entertainment. Imagine what Postman would have said about Tik-Tok or Facebook Reels if he were still with us. Daniel Goleman's 2013 book, Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence, argued that there are two types of “distractions,” the nemesis of attention - sensory overload from without and emotional stress from within. Kathleen Norris, in The Quotidian Mysteries, and Richard Rohr's morning devotions consistently draw us to see - really attend to – the depth and meaning of ordinary activities that we do daily. It's not easy to do when we endeavor to multi-task and measure ourselves by productivity. 

 

I suspect this is what Jesus was addressing in the Sermon on the Mount when he said, “If your eye is single your whole body will be full of light.” Modern translations make it “If your eye is healthy …” but I have always thought the King James translation - following its use in ancient Greek literature – captures the meaning best with “single.” 

 

If your eye is single, your whole body will be full of light. 

 

This singularity of vision - pushing past distractions from without or within to really see, concentrate, notice, appreciate - is what I value most about the season of Lent. Unlike a New Year's resolution that makes a bold commitment from now to whenever (usually petering out around January 14th), Lent is a finite, six-week period, during which we can commit ourselves to something with fervor and purpose. And as a season that leads us on Christ's journey to the cross, the gifts of this season - from opportunities to deny ourselves, to wearing the ashes of mortality, to confessing our shortcomings (even the arrogance of our will power), and losing ourselves in Christ - are endless. 

 

If you will excuse my alliterative tendencies, I think concentration is the key to consecration. Think of that moment when we are pouring wine from the pitcher to the chalice. The mesmerizing effect of such a common act of pouring a liquid becomes the gateway to hearing the words, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”  The presence of Christ in ordinary food and drink is hard to fathom when we have several apps opened all at once, with constant interruptions, or within the noise of everything, everywhere, all at once. When our eye is single, our whole body is full of the light of Jesus’ presence. 

 

Distraction-free time can be an elusive luxury for certain seasons in our lives, such as when raising children, starting down a career path, or undergoing a transition. So, I am throwing no shade here on those whose commitments to serving others don’t allow a lot of “God and Me” time. Still, I hope we can find ways to focus our attention in the mommastery as well as in the monastery. So, as we look for ways to engage with meaningful attention during this season of Lent, let’s begin by offering ourselves some grace. And let’s do this together.

 

Mark of St. Mark