Lent has arrived. I attended an Ash Wednesday service yesterday morning. I was short and sweet. Two song and a 5 minute cartoon before we had communion and had ashes smeared on our foreheads in the shape of a cross. Honestly the only time I felt weird about it was when I was on the bus, both coming and going. I was aware of all of the different people around me. Aware that many of them are probably not Christian. Aware that I probably looked ... odd.
Like most Christians, I don't wear my religion on my sleeve. I don't even wear a cross. I feel like the world has enough people screaming in their faces, I don't need to add to the noise. That is what a lot of evangelism is to me. Hollow noise.
Yesterday, as I got on the bus and looked at all of those faces, I wondered if I was becoming part of that noise. Upon reflection I don't think that I was. There is something to be said for the silent witnesses. Those that go about our day just trying to live how Jesus lived. Just trying to help were we are needed.
When Mother Teressa was working in the slums. Helping the poorest of the poor in a mostly Hindu population she told her fellow sisters never to mention Jesus' name. That was not why they were there. They were there to help, feed and to offer hope. She didn't need to say why she was doing her work. She was a nun. Everyone new she was married to Jesus.
After some reflection I have come to a conclusion. Yesterday was the start of Lent. The start of our journey through the wilderness before the celebration of Easter. It was also my day to show that I am one of the people who follow the teachings of Jesus.
Lent is the time where people talk about what they are going to give up or what they are going to add. Maybe someone will do more volunteer work, maybe a person will stop eating chocolate or drinking sodas. Richard Rorh has challenged people to give up the need to be right. I'm not sure what I am giving up this year. If it will be anything at all. I'm really just focused on continuing the Journey.