The Easter feast is an opportunity to live like the future that we hope for in Christ is already here. Like children playing at adult activities, we are invited to practice living in ways that anticipate the life of joy and freedom that we trust Christ will soon make complete in us.

I can’t honestly say I am thankful for the mental illness that besets our son. But in full truthfulness I can say I am glad to have been forced to do battle with my theology of suffering and to test both its mettle and mine.

During the Easter season, as we focus on living the resurrection, we rejoice that because Jesus conquered death, once and for all, we can come before God, known as sons and daughters. “Approved” by Bryan+ Patrick captures the joy of being accepted in the sight of the Lord because of Christ’s love, demonstrated through his blood.

As you are well aware, there are group of people who only show up for church on Christmas and Easter. The pangs of guilt they feel as these two seasons roll around, often prompted by a call or text from a parent, bring them back to the churches or traditions of their youth. Parking lots fill up; seats are harder to find; there is that awkward pause as you try to remember if you have seen a particular person recently and which greeting you should go for.

I did not grow up in a church that observed Lent, but I have grown to long for this season that is set apart to be a reminder of our human limitedness and our need for Christ’s offering of Himself. This Lent, I have been particularly burdened by that frequent theme of the Psalms: the apparent success of the wicked.

The rhythms of the daily office and lectionary readings invite me in to be present and journey through the seasons. During Lent I yearn for even more space to allow each moment, each word to penetrate my soul.

As we approach Lent, I examine myself. I am unable to deny that I am a dirty saint, a messy image-bearer, a broken disciple. This would be troubling if not for the gospel of grace that wipes away the dirt, cleans up the mess and smooths the sharp places of my broken edges.

Lent in particular is a season for preparation, for repentance. Reflection on our own brokenness and the fallen state of our world leads to repentance, asking God for his mercy to come and to do what only he can—make us whole and make things right.

During the Lenten season, the great thing is when you lay down your shortcomings and failures, you’re able to pick up something greater. To each person it’s something different.

The three streams are a convergent force for our times. Can ancient guides like the Creeds and the Book of Common Prayer be a doorway to innovation?