Jesus, Remember Me

I admit it. I am a Lent and Holy Week junkie. A lot of people embrace the quiet, watchful, yet softly joyful season of Advent. They rejoice at Christmas to finally announce “Born is the King of Israel! Christ the Savior is Born!” Easter brings the triumphant return of Lord – “He is Risen! He is Risen Indeed!” But for whatever reason, Lent and Holy Week … well, they don’t go by ignored, although I don’t imagine a lot of folks out there revel in the season of Lent like I do.

I love everything about Lent. The somberness: gathering for midweek worship in a darkened sanctuary in the quiet evening. The physical: the mark of ashes, giving up (or adding something in) for these weeks, the waving of palms, the washing of feet. (Although I do NOT love the always annoying McDonald’s fish sandwich commercials.) I probably love these things because the season of Lent goes along nicely with my winter blues. I feel as though I can embrace my melancholy and depression; it’s welcomed here. Jesus is suffering right along with me… being faced with temptations, hungering in the wilderness, and finally, the heroic finale of giving his life.

When they came to the hill and crucified Jesus along with the criminals, Jesus prayed. “Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.” They threw dice for his clothes, taunted him, toasted him with sour wine. “So you’re King of the Jews! Save yourself!” One criminal beside Jesus cursed him. The other criminal shut him up, asking if he had no fear of God, telling him that they deserved this fate, but that Jesus did not. Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.” Jesus said, “Don’t worry, I will. Today you will join me in paradise.” (Luke 23:42-43)

This confessed thief likely did not know scripture, understand theology, had probably never recited a creed nor joined a church or been baptized. At this point, he was incapable of turning his life around. He simply asked Jesus to remember him.

Our midweek worship theme is “If I Only Had Six Weeks to Live.” Thinking about death is not fun by any stretch of the imagination. Making plans, preparing your family (given the chance), wondering what legacy you’re leaving behind. Do you wonder what you’re learning? What your mission is? If you’re leaving behind something meaningful for your loved ones?

Most of us struggle with this… constantly wondering if we’re doing the right things, saying the right things, feeling the right things. I panic at not knowing my mission, and somehow missing it. Especially being a mom, I’m pretty sure I’m screwing something up. As a child, sister, niece, friend, colleague, stranger – yep, pretty sure I’m screwing up stuff there too. I constantly wonder, after I’m gone, what exactly people will remember about me. What is my legacy? Have I done anything worthwhile? I don’t feel like I’ve done or been anything great. I’m over here, leading my humdrum life, hiding in the corner, not wanting to be noticed. Yes, I do good and wonderful things with and in my life, but I know it’s not enough. I can do better. As for the few good and wonderful things I do, I’m sure there are MORE than enough not so good things to balance it out.

But as a Child of God, I am perfect. Jesus knows my imperfections and chooses to look the other way; grace is freely given, not earned. Even in the darkest days of Lent and melancholy, when I’m not sure I’ll make it through, Jesus does notice me. He comforts me, even when he’s the one I’m mourning. I am that criminal beside him. Jesus will remember me.

If you’re questioning whether or not Jesus will remember you when that time comes, fear not. Jesus knows you. All of you. Every freckle on your face, every thought you have, every deed you do.  He knows your legacy, and your loved ones will too (even if you never figured it out for yourself!). “Don’t worry, I will remember you,” Jesus says. He will welcome you with open arms in paradise.

Amen.

~Jen