Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of the Lenten season leading up to Easter. I have been looking for a little inspiration/instruction to aid me in my participation of the Lenten season. Thankfully,I came across a little article in a devotional anthology, “Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter.” It provided me with the “entry point” that I was looking for.
The title of the first entry, “Repentance”, is written by Kathleen Norris, a teacher who teaches parochial grade school. Ms. Norris, in seeking to expose her students to the spiritual and poetic wealth found in the Hebrew Psalter, gave her class the assignment of writing their own personal psalm. One psalm in particular stood out to Kathleen. It was the psalm of a little boy titled, “The Monster Who Was Sorry.”
“He began by admitting that he hates it when his father yells at him: his response in the poem is to throw his sister down the stairs, and then to wreck his room, and finally to wreck the whole town. The poem concludes: ‘Then I sit in my messy house and say to myself, ‘I shouldn’t have done all that.”
I just love that little poem. Why do I love the poem of the little “monster” so much? I love it for the same reason that Ms. Norris loved it. I love it for its honesty, “the emotional directness”, and I love it for the subtle yet powerful lessons that it teaches us about repentance, an often misunderstood spiritual practice.
There are several lessons from “the psalm of the monster” (not surprisingly these lessons are found in the biblical variety as well). First, it teaches us that people who practice repentance have this defining trait: they are “messy.” The problem of course, is nobody wants to be “messy.” Why do we have such a hard time with this – the fact that in God’s economy it really is okay to be messy? This should be obvious: only “messy” people need to “clean up”. Doesn’t the Bible say something like, “for all of us are messy and no one is clean, no not one”?
The second lesson from “the monster” is that it’s not enough to just be messy – you also have to be honest, and not just with yourself. People who practice repentance are honest with themselves and with at least one other person (the monster wrote a poem for others to read). Repentance is a process that begins with an honest assessment, which leads to a confession – “I’m angry”, “I’m hurting”, “I’m tired of living with the pigs.”
The third lesson on repentance comes from the closing thoughts of Kathleen Norris who writes, “If that boy had been a novice in the fourth-century monastic desert, his elders might have told him that he was well on the way toward repentance, not such a monster after all, but only human.” Like Aslan in, “The Silver Chair”, Jesus doesn’t give up on his children even when they turn into “monsters”, but like Aslan with Eustace, Jesus comes to the rescue of the boy trapped behind the “scales of the dragon”, and he patiently works at setting him free.
Repentance does not erase our sins, for only Christ can do that, but it does help us to recognize the “mess” we are in. We are so easily deluded by our own assessment of things and confession breaks the spell of our denial, our delusions and our “blind spots.” Confession puts us on the path of discovery, where we discover that if our room really is “messy”, perhaps it could be cleaned. Perhaps it could be a room we could be comfortable sharing with others . . . maybe even with God.
Here’s to all you “monsters” out there – Have a happy and penitent Lenten season!
C
It does crack me up when evangelicals speak of repentance, fasting, or Lent as if they are a denial of God’s grace. Granted some people use them in a way that might, but when used right they reveal the messy crooks and crannies of our souls and show us how much we need God’s grace every day, and day to day. Repentance shouldn’t create self-righteous smugness, it should humble us as people utterly dependent on God’s grace. We’re all “monsters.” We’re all dragons painfully having the scales pulled off one at a time.
I absolutely love the boy’s ending and profound insight on our human condition (little kids get it so much better than we do): ‘Then I sit in my messy house and say to myself, ‘I shouldn’t have done all that.”
That is awesome. It made me laugh and want to cry at the same time. Cry because of the sheer relief and commonality I share with this little boy. Laugh because it’s all so silly. We are so irrational, emotional, reactionary, regretful people. If we were to always give into our emotions like he so honestly describes, this world would be all the messier.
The thing that is brilliant though, is that he is revealing and admitting what is truly in his heart. Throw his sister down the stairs!? Someone should lock that boy up! He’s a danger to society! Right? Right?? Wait…if only we were all honest about our darkness and then, as a result, repentant about what’s really going on inside of our hearts. You are absolutely right, Chris–it is only when we can admit this grossness, this messiness, that we can then allow God to clean us up.
If we only admit the easy things, then we are only repenting of the easy things, and that is grossly undermining the power of the cross and the depths of where Christ really wants to go in our lives! I thank God that he wants us to reveal our ugliness and not just try to cover it up. Thank God he wants honestly– not deception– from us and among us.
Luke,
Yeah, I agree with you – it is ironic, especially given the statement of Luther (the first of his 95 thesis). “When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said ‘Repent’, He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” It is really hard to repent of things like consumerism, moralism, pragmatism, individualism, etc., when so many people look at you like you’re crazy for challenging such “sacred” ideology.
Kelsi,
Yeah, little kids haven’t yet perfected the art of pretentiousness. I know what you mean by wanting to “laugh and cry” when reading this. I recently saw a movie, “Where the Wild Things Are.” The main character was essentially the same boy who wrote the “monster poem.” About half way through the film, I started choking back tears. Yeah, emotional scenes get to me, but this was truly “wild” – if I was by myself I could have bawled out loud for an hour. The portrayal of such honesty about how we really feel . . . it really is powerful.
i guess as we mature we lose that sense of wonder that come from kids, that honesty that comes from not being jaded.On a difference subject have you seen the movie where the wilde things are and how the main character max found accpetance and love from a gang of monster while feeling left out of his real family. Often times we feel that way with God and seek acceptance from the most unlikely of places.i have have not read the peom you reference but enjoy the chat, i agree with your reference to luther and how as western american “blessed” christian we need to repent of the idea that christianity is the same as our understanding of consumerism. As a newcomer to angelicism and the Episcopal Church i find a comfort and connection to the divine through the liturgy and the celebation of lent. It is a time to reflection and self examination. Sorry love to blog but very busy with school
i agree the you guys also on the fact that grace is not exclusive
Where can I find the words to the poem “The Monster Who Was Sorry”
I will look that up for you – see if I can find it and get back to you.
i am definitely behind, as far as the calendar year goes, but i just couldn’t resist giving you props for sharing this poem/psalm. the language definitely resonates with me – as i have even defined my website and online-presence in light of this “messines”.
anyways, this was a great find. thanks!