Hello, church,

The word "Lent" comes from the Old English word for "springtime." And it seems that the coming of spring does for us what ancient Lenten practices did for earlier generations of Christians. That is, it appeals to our senses. The colors, the smells, the warming of the days suggest that there just may be a resurrection of the body.

On the Sammamish River trail, which runs right by my house, there are now twice as many people out exercising in the early morning than there were just weeks ago. It's spring, not Lent, that they are responding to. But exercise today is a secular version of mortification of the flesh. They are paying for their sins out there!

As runners, walkers and bicycle riders pump arms and legs past my house-in the misting rain---they are as serious about their workouts as medieval penitents. You can tell by the look on their faces---a holy agony. I am inspired. In keeping with the season, I get out there and join them. Again. It's Lent, after all.

Many on the trail, I imagine, don't even know that this is the Lenten season. But the whispers of springtime are in the air, anyway, raising the perennial questions: Maybe there can be new life for me? If only I could do this every day. If only I could stop doing that forever. If only I could change my life, then maybe life would be better, more meaningful.

Many people in our society never frame these longings in religious language. But that doesn't mean we have stopped the search. The Lenten questions are still raised: Can people really change? Can healing and wholeness come? Can we have hope for this world? Can there be new life for us?

Easter, the Christian answer to all these questions, is only three weeks away now. It's no accident that the date of Easter coincides with the beginning of spring!