by Christine Sunderland @Chrisunderland
Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent for many Christians. It is a day when we act out what we believe to be true, that we will live and we will die and we will be resurrected by Christ. And so an ashen cross is drawn on the forehead as we hear the words, “Remember, O man, that dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return,” echoing Genesis 3:19.
Just so, we will act out in the next weeks our Lenten rule, something given up, something taken on, disciplining our flesh with attempted virtue. In this way we turn spiritual reality into physical reality.
In the same way, the Christian fiction writer expresses spiritual reality in story, breathing life into
the human condition through words on a page, with caring characters, pointed plots, and sacred
settings. In this way Christian tellers of tales express the inexpressible, just as ritual reveals
unseen reality.
We take the virtues – faith, hope, and charity; temperance, fortitude, prudence, and justice –
and make them tangible, seen and heard, so that our characters may grapple with what it
means to be human and to be made in the image of God, indeed, to be fragile and fallen, yet
bound for glory.
Lent is a time we foster temperance, for without this we cannot foster the others. Temperance is
the beginning of character building, both on the page and within the heart. Christian writers
make temperance tangible for the reader.
In my recently submitted novel, The Music of the Mountain, my characters know that memory
breathes life into virtue, so each approaches virtue from their own point of view to build their
own character.
An elderly vicar has already stocked his heart and mind with psalms
and rites and scripture. He need only recite daily, to keep his virtues near. A journalist adds to his memory bank, as he disciplines his mind with ancient prayers illuminating who he is and is meant to be, learning by heart the Te Deum. A school teacher commits her list of virtues to memory and tempers her mind with faith, hope, and charity, as she recalls fortitude, prudence, and justice. A middle-aged professor, steeped in the classics, debates truth and goodness, right and wrong, and the claims of the Judeo-Christian tradition.
How can temperance become tangible? The sister to humility, she bears the ashen cross on her
forehead, tempering the desire to deny or hide the cross so boldly visible. And in our stories we
celebrate humble temperance, thoughtful action, disciplined desires. Our heroes conquer
themselves before they conquer the dragons. They train temperance to govern their thoughts
before speaking, to consider before crying out, to love before lusting, and thus, to see and hear
and believe.
On Ash Wednesday we are reminded of this glorious vocation, to give life to those dry bones we
call a plot, to tell the story of who we are through characters who are tangible and real, who
forge faith with the virtue of temperance.
Christine Sunderland has authored seven award-winning novels: Pilgrimage, set in Italy, Offerings, set in France, Inheritance, set in England, Hana-lani, set in Hawaii, The Magdalene Mystery, set in Rome and Provence (all Oaktara), The Fire Trail (eLectio), set at UC Berkeley, and Angel Mountain (Wipf and Stock), set on Mount Diablo, east of Berkeley. She is currently working on The Music of the Mountain, about life and death and life again. She is a member of the Anglican Province of the King. Visit Christine at www.ChristineSunderland.com (website and blog), Facebook, and LinkedIn.