(The following is the author’s foreword in the book Torn Curtain: And Other Two Word Lenten Meditations. Each day of Lent, starting February 22, will begin a series of 40 devotional readings, one chapter per day from the book. These will also be available on audio through FAB’s Podcast on the Spotify/Anchor app.)
I begin with a confession. I have been a Christian for well over half a century, but I am sure that I have never come close to grasping the meaning of the cross of Jesus. I have read the biblical accounts of the cross so many times I can’t count them. I have been involved in translation of those passages for minority language groups. Likewise, I have heard countless sermons and teachings which have referenced the cross. But in terms of really focusing on the deep meaning of the cross, and what was involved in the passion of the Christ, my understanding is limited. I have not gone to a deep level.
I am under no illusion that the meditations and reflections narrated in this short book of essays approach any kind of “deep level.” However, the two word titles have at least given me new entry points to Lenten understanding. They were birthed during Lent 2016. A friend of ours named Chuck built a large wooden cross for our church in Alabama to display during the Lenten season. I found myself staring at it, starting with the Ash Wednesday service. Then, on the following Sunday night at our regular weekly evening service, I found myself at the altar rail kneeling just in front of it. Afterwards, I took a picture of it to remind me of its powerful image and I kept that picture beside me as I began my morning devotional times throughout Lent. I was moved to write down what was bubbling up in my heart as I considered two word titles of reflection.
The reader will note a few things about this book of short essays. One is that this is not a carefully crafted exposition. At times it may feel more like a stream of consciousness. And a heavy stream of consciousness, at that! The subject matter of the passion of the Christ is not light reading. These essays, for the most part, are not “feel good” sort of readings. The subject matter is at times excruciatingly heavy as we consider the act of God sacrificing Himself for His people.
Also, it is not strictly tied to certain days on the liturgical calendar, nor does it begin with “the first day of Lent.” There are 40 in all, though, and traditionally Lent covers a 40-day period, excluding Sundays. They can be read in one sitting, though probably best read one at a time, slowly, day by day. Two of them, Forsaken Question and Feeling Alone, are actually two different meditations on the same topic.
A short, one sentence prayer is included at the end of each. This is one idea for a prayer reflection on the passage. My hope is that readers will use the meditation as a starting point to craft their own prayers.
As followers of Jesus, we know how his suffering turned out! We are not dismayed, thinking that our King has been killed, and all that he taught and promoted was wiped out, or that we have no hope of ever seeing him again. On the contrary, experiencing the Lenten story every year is similar to one watching a movie again that has been watched more than once. We know how it ends, but we still want to watch it! Or we want to re-read a novel that captivated us, and when we go through it one more time, we see things that we didn’t notice before. Sometimes, we just want to enjoy the story-telling of the film or book one more time even though we know the ending.
So it is with the Passion of the Christ. We continue to read the story of Jesus, with appreciation for all that He went through on our behalf, even though we actually do not have the vocabulary or language ability to fully express that appreciation.
For many years I thought that the term “Lent” must have been some kind of church term. I didn’t hear it used in any other context than the period on the church calendar from some day in February until Easter weekend. But then I learned that it’s not a church term at all. It comes from the Old English, meaning “Spring”. Spring is around the corner, holding promise of new life! But before Spring bursts forth, the end of Winter is before us. This Lenten season takes us from Winter to Spring, from death to life.
The period of pain, suffering, and death of our Savior drives us to reflective meditation. I testify with millions of Christ-followers that meditating on the events and meaning of his cross can be a life-changing experience.
From Freddy Boswell’s book, Torn Curtain: And Other Two Word Lenten Meditations. Published by Amazon Kindle Direct.
Freddy Boswell 