The Paradox of Lent

Series Introduction

Scott Bullock (Pastor and TPW Board Member)

Lent asks us to do things that appear impossible. We must grieve and be joyful at once. We must enjoy the sweetness of forgiveness with the bitterness of sin. But this tension is the point. As Alexander Schmemann writes, “the foretaste of Easter makes Lent’s sadness bright and our Lenten effort a spiritual spring.” [1] The sorrow of Lent is part of the joy of Easter and the joy of Easter backfills the sorrow of Lent—all at once.

Lent’s Paradox reveals the truth of ourselves

How can that be?

Take the oxymoron "sophomore," the tongue-in-cheek name we give second-year students, calling them "wise fools." Why? We see in these students growth and potential for growth, but at the same time are well aware of their deficits.

"Christian" is a kinder word. But down deep, we are aware of the grief our sin causes: to us, others, and God. At the same time, though, we are also aware of the joy of its unburdening by the very One we have offended. Maybe we deserve an oxymoronic name of our own.

Ascent through Joy-Grief

The 6th-7th century desert monk St. John Climacus envisioned the Christian life as a ladder with thirty steps in his devotional classic, The Ladder of Divine Ascent. The seventh step is "On mourning which causes joy." He writes,

Keep a firm hold of the blessed joy-grief of holy compunction, and do not stop working at it until it raises you high above the things of this world and presents you pure to Christ. [2]

It may have been a while since you used "holy compunction" in a chat over coffee. Like "remorse," it names a feeling of guilt that stirs within us when we have committed a wrong. This feeling softens our hearts for repentance. When we trust that God is merciful towards us then we are filled with a compunction that includes both sorrow and joy. That is perhaps why later Christian thinkers adapted John’s paradoxical idea of joy-grief for Lent, or bright sadness as others have described it. This paradox can be seen in our everyday struggle with sin. 

Grief that Lingers

Lent reminds us that forgiveness does not always remove grief.

If you’ve ever been in a fight with someone you love, when tensions are high, blinders are on, and when you spew acidic words meant to burn the deepest core of the person you care about, you've experienced that moment when you realize you've crossed a line. Recall the emotions that you felt in that moment when your partner, your child, a parent, or your friend goes silent or turns and walks away?

Do you remember that overwhelming shame, guilt, and grief? Do you recall scrambling to extract the emotional venom and repair the damage you caused? It's hard to forget.

Recently, I flung angry and heated words at my high school son that were hurtful. I felt grieved by my actions and asked for forgiveness. However, my grief did not fully subside when it was granted. Instead, a shot of joy and hope were added to it.

And that is the way of grief for sin. Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetfulness. Forgiveness hasn't made the sin not bad. Grief is still appropriate—but so is the joy and hope of redemption—which is the paradox of Lent.

Bitter and Sweet: The Flavors of Lent

I don't like tequila on its own. But if you add triple sec and lime, I start to appreciate it. Without the bitterness in the tequila, a margarita would be incomplete. (For those who want less boozy image, think of the intense bitterness of pure chocolate without milk and sugar.) The bitterness, unpalatable on its own, is not only palatable, but an integral part of the whole.

Lent calls us to experience both sorrow and joy in our journey of repentance. We grieve over the destructive nature of our sin and the way that it has hurt others while we find joy in the forgiveness we receive from the ones whom we wronged and the hope that we can begin again. 

This is the heart of the season of Lent. We drink in the blend of grief-joy over the sin that separated us from the One who came to save us. The 40 days of Lent from Ash Wednesday through Holy Saturday are a reminder of the bright sadness that we carry within us as both the fallen and the forgiven. And this bright sadness and joy-grief is meant to move us to action. If we only remained in grief, we would not act. Despondency and hopelessness would too easily set in. If we only remained in joy, we would not act because we would see no need. It is the blend of grief and joy that spur us towards repentance and restoration, that moves us closer to the cross of Christ. 

TPW's Lenten Series: Seven Weeks Exploring the Joy-Grief of Lent

In the seven texts featured in TPW’s Lenten Series from Ash Wednesday through Palm Sunday, we highlight the bright sadness that raises us high above the things of this world and presents us to Christ. In this state of joy-grief our texts call us

1. to return to God (Ash Wednesday, Joel 2:1-2, 12-17),

2. to call on the name of the Lord (First Sunday, Romans 10:8b-13),

3. to hope in the promise of God (Second Sunday, Genesis 15:1-2, 17-18),

4. to seek Him while he may be found (Third Sunday, Isaiah 55:1-9),

5. to be reconciled to Christ (Fourth Sunday, 2 Corinthians 5:16-21),

6. to find our gain in Christ (Fifth Sunday, Philippians 3:4b-14), and

7. to proclaim Christ (Palm Sunday, Luke 19:28-40). 

Each lectionary guide follows the AIM method, viewing the text through three lenses: the Ancient Lens, looking at the historical context; the Jesus Lens (Iēsous), how the passage is seen through the eyes of Jesus; and the Modern Lens, through which we see applications of the message to our current situation.

[1] Alexander Schmemann, Great Lent: Journey to Pascha (St Vladimirs Seminary Press, 1974).

[2] St. John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent (6th or 7th century—free translations also available online).

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The Paradox of Lent: Embracing Joy and Grief

2025 Lent Sermon Series

(Coming Jan 2025)