Lenten Climate Conversion

by Bishop Joensen | February 26, 2024

Bishop William Joensen

No surprise in Iowa, but we’ve had some weird weather this winter: blizzards and Arctic clipper temperatures for which no number of layers worn seemed sufficient, sandwiched between almost balmy days that made for some precarious choices. A few weeks ago, I drove by a manmade lake with pools of melted standing water dotting the ice, and I spied a middle age person in the very center of the lake walking a dog. Hmmm, I thought: I don’t know if that’s a good idea—you wouldn’t find me out there testing both the ice and my guardian angel!

I was reminded of the late Polish film director Krystof Kieslowski’s late 1980s film series, The Decalogue--specifically episode one, intended to correspond with the First Commandment: “I am the Lord thy God. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” The episode opens with the atheist computer scientist Krzyztof and his young son Pawel counting their push-ups. Soon they are working a math problem together. Pawel is intrigued by the power of computers; he even wonders if his Dad’s powerful computer can tell him what his mother is dreaming about.

At one point, father and son come across a dead dog in front of a church and Pawel asks his Dad, “What is death?”  He receives a laconic medical description that is not satisfying.  The child continues by asking about the soul and where it goes after death, to which his father replies, “All that survives us are achievements and memories.”

Soon Christmas approaches. Pawel knows that his father has gotten him a new pair of ice skates, and begs him to let him have the skates early so he can go ice skating on the local river.  His Dad, after inputting the temperature outside, twice computes that the river can withstand three times Pawel’s weight, and so he relents to his son’s request.

Tragedy ensues. When a distraught neighbor comes to Krzyztof with the horrible news that his son has fallen through the ice and perished, the father remains calm, responding that “this can’t be,” for his calculations determined that this couldn’t happen. When the eventually distraught Dad returns to his computer, as always, the screen is blinking, poised to be activated with the words, “I am ready.”

In 2 Samuel 24: 2, 9-17, King David has no computer at his disposal. But he wants to know how many troops he has, and so he calls for a registration. The numbers are impressive: a total of 1.3 million men. Israel is no longer the weakest nation on the block. But David’s conscience convicts him for his folly. In counting on his military might rather than the humble dependence on God that has led him in life to this point, he has in effect violated the First Commandment: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me”—especially himself, O lowly servant David.  His choice among various punishments expresses his desire to restore his immediate connection with, and reliance upon, God—upon whom he casts himself in contrition and petition for himself and his people.  Still, thousands of innocents suffer.

As we’ve embarked upon our Lenten pilgrimage, I pray it is for each of us more a time of conversion than of calculation. We do not ignore numbers in play around us in the world, especially those that speak to us of tragedy, human loss and suffering. In fact, we are called to fix our attention upon the signs of the times around us, with openness to being convicted by the fact that our ways are not God’s ways. As individuals and as nations we tend to revert to reliance on our own power rather than on humbling ourselves before the Lord, in which we rely ever more upon his mercy attending his clear and penetrating judgment of our own hearts.

We are called not to keep count of our own self-validating Lenten sacrifices and commitments to the self-sung tune of: “I have kept my resolutions for 23 days going on 40, have attended daily Mass for almost every one of those days; I’ve prayed a similar number of Rosaries, and have filled my Catholic Relief Services Rice Bowl with all the money saved by fasting from candy and alcohol.”  

These are all worthy deeds in themselves, but they do not necessarily draw us to cast ourselves in radical dependence upon God’s saving grace. Nor do they lead us to look beyond ourselves to behold a world that is spiraling far outside of God’s biblical, covenantal commitment to the people of Israel. God elects Israel to be a herald of his plan to place his saving power at our disposal, so that we can return to him in repentance and reconciliation.  

***

The Middle East is a hostile, inhuman climate indeed. Our Lenten discipline should prompt us not only to personal conversion, but to fervent prayer and political advocacy that the status quo of war as usual should not prevail.

In his January address to Vatican diplomats from various countries gathered at the Holy See, Pope Francis cautioned: “All of us remain shocked by the October 7 attack on the Israeli people, in which great numbers of innocent persons were horribly wounded, tortured, and murdered, and many taken hostage. I renew my condemnation of this act and of every instance of terrorism and extremism. This is not the way to resolve disputes among peoples; those disputes are only aggravated and cause suffering for everyone.”

The Holy Father continues, “Indeed, the attack provoked a strong Israeli military response in Gaza that has led to the death of tens of thousands of Palestinians, mainly civilians, including many young people and children, and has caused an exceptionally grave humanitarian crisis and inconceivable suffering.”

The Pope implores that hospitals, schools, and places of worship (including those for the remaining 2,500 Christians in Palestine) receive all necessary protection that would be afforded by a cease-fire on every front.

As King David realized, we are not called to live solely by the numbers; yet we do not disregard them entirely in our Lenten call to be convicted and allow our hearts (perhaps hardened by the atrocities of war) thawed by the facts before us. Credible sources report that in Gaza more than 10,000 of Gaza’s 1.1 million children—1% of the total population—have been killed since an attack on Israel on October 7 and the assault on Gaza that has followed. The Save the Children website reports, “About 1,000 children in Gaza have lost one or both of their legs, many having them amputated without anesthetic, and will require a lifetime of medical care.” These crimes only compound the abductions of children in Israel and the 33 Israeli children killed in the initial and ensuing attack.

We will never know peace on these terms. As with King David, we must come to our senses, so that more innocent victims will not perish as a result of the folly of political leaders. Persons of faith and goodwill must flex our prayers and muster our voices to proclaim, “No more war on these terms. Cease the carnage of children and innocent bystanders.” 

There are evil actors out there. But that should not prompt anyone to respond in a way that joins their ranks.  For then all our Lenten labors and sacrifices will be for naught. And then the global climate will remain just as extreme, on account of human hearts that remain still frozen. Rather, with humble, broken hearts, we declare to the living God who lays claim to our worship and all our choices and advocacy: “I am ready. . . for Resurrection life.”    

Bishop Joensen

The Most Reverend William Joensen is the current bishop for the Diocese of Des Moines, having been ordained and installed in 2019.