Friday, March 5, 2021
Friday in the Second Week of Lent
Nicole Benevenia
The Collect of the Day
Grant, O Lord, that as your Son Jesus Christ prayed for his enemies on the cross, so we may have grace to forgive those who wrongfully or scornfully use us, that we ourselves may be able to receive your forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Readings: Genesis 37:3–4,12–28, Matthew 21:33–43 & Psalm 105:16–22
“The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone”
As a campus minister in a college setting, one of my favorite parts of my job is accompanying students on retreat weekends once or twice per year. My favorite of these programs is called Merrimack OutReach Experience - or “MORE” for short. This innocuous-sounding name covers up what is often an incredibly intense weekend, involving weeks of preparation for the student leadership team. My role on MORE consists of 1) getting on a bus Friday afternoon, 2) being as fully present as possible to two dozen undergraduates over three days, and 3) attempting eight hours of sleep as the youths — high on a constant stream of sugar, caffeine, and new friendships — stay up to watch the sunrise. This third task is often in vain.
I learned right away on my first MORE that the task of being fully present would be also more challenging than I imagined. At the heart of each retreat weekend is four talks given by students on the self, family, friends, and faith. While I am no stranger to pain, shame, or ruptured relationships, I was astounded by what many of these students had been through and were willing to be vulnerable about in front of their peers, often strangers. Abuse and sexual assault. Serious mental health struggles that almost claimed their lives. The deaths of friends and parents. Childhood cancer. The threat of deportation. Impossible decisions around unplanned pregnancies. The pain in their pasts and presents was palpable, and many of them struggled with the fear of being “damaged goods” because of their experiences.
What I’ve observed year after year is: the incredible MORE leaders are not the well-adjusted high-achievers, or the “natural leaders” with shiny personalities and personas or impressive college transcripts. The people who end up leading, sharing their stories, and holding space for their peers are the rejected stones. They are the stones who were once thrown away for chips, cracks, perceived imperfections, or even stones that were shattered beyond obvious use. But in the sacred space created during those weekends, I’ve watched over and over the way that the rejected stones fashion themselves into staircases. I’ve seen the vulnerable and broken-hearted hear these stories, realize that they are not alone, and travel those staircases up and out of isolation and despair.
This is one of the things we reckon with during Lent; we acknowledge more fully the pain, separation, and rejection in our own lives and communities. We look more closely at the sin, suffering, and chaos out in the wider world, much of which is created by human greed and jealousy. In the Christian worldview, we come to understand more and more that we love a God who loves us so deeply that (S)He entered into the suffering and challenge of human experience in order to transform it. We love a God that brings salvation not out of triumph or recognizable worldly power, but the stones that have been thrown away. We love a God who is fully capable of using our woundedness and rejection for healing and new life. And it is amazing in our eyes.