Rend your hearts
Standing on the threshold of Lent today, we hear the call of the prophet Joel, “return to the LORD your God.” Not with torn garments or public displays, but with hearts opened, softened, and turned back toward Love.
A few weeks ago, after a major ice storm brought our city to a standstill, a man named T.L., someone I’ve come to know through our homeless outreach, was with us on campus. While much of the city was shut down, he was outside with our team, shoveling snow so that services could continue for others. When the work was done, he asked for a ride to a place where he knew he could rest and be safe.
As we drove, he spotted someone he knew sitting outside, cold, at a bus stop. “I know him. He’s going to the same place I am.” My backseat was full with two car seats. I didn’t have room for another passenger. There was a pause. Then T.L. said with a smile, “Let me out here. I’ll wait for the bus with him.”
In that moment, T.L. chose solidarity over comfort, fellowship over efficiency, community over self-interest. No one saw it but me and his friend. There was no trumpet blown, no recognition given. And yet, it was one of the clearest acts of almsgiving I’ve witnessed. It wasn’t measured in dollars, but in a more precious currency: presence.
Joel calls the whole community to return together (elders, children, even infants) because conversion is never merely individual. It is communal. It is relational.
As we receive ashes today, marked with the truth of our fragility, T.L. reminds me that turning away from sin is only half the movement of Lent. The other half is turning toward one another. Toward our shared need. Toward love that costs us something.
May this Lent find us not only fasting from self-indulgence, but also fasting from indifference, turning with our whole hearts toward the LORD who meets us in one another.
George Nixon is executive director of Catholic Charities of Western Tennessee.