Rose Sunday marks the midpoint of Lent. We are now halfway from Ash Wednesday to Easter - and the Church, for centuries, has wisely, sensibly, lovingly appointed a breather - a break, a little refreshment in the midst of the rigors of Lent. A day long accepted as a day not intended to be as austere, not as strict - and so it has been called, in England largely, Refreshment Sunday, also in England, Mothering Sunday - an ancient honoring of our mothers, centuries before our own American Mother's Day was formulated. It is also classically called Laetare Sunday for the Latin opening of the Introit verse at the start of Mass, and consequently a custom developed, in many places being revived, of wearing Rose Vestments instead of violet or purple. Advent also has its Rose Sunday, called Gaudete Sunday, from its Introit, but few parishes, I think, can comfortably afford a set of Mass vestments, whose total use is restricted to only two Sundays each year - an extravagance even for a welcoming breather. Rose Vestments or not, extravagance or not, this Sunday, as its twin in Advent also does, affords all in the Church a little guilt-free respite in the midst of frugality.

Perhaps, as in my case, our Lenten fast not so inhumanly severe that its needs a break so I don't break, but, still, this much remains always - here and everywhere on this Sunday - it is a genuinely and wholesome pause at the midpoint, things lighten up, as should we. It is akin to a seventh-inning stretch. A perfect day to have our simnel cake, an ancient English marzipan festivity on this lighter day, and a day for our Youth Group to introduce its chocolate confect ions as promised.

This Sunday, Laetare Sunday, Mothering Sunday, Refreshment Sunday, is above all, and quite besides the happily associated mild and subdued festivity, a time to take a brighter view of our life and our faith and our own discipline. This Sunday is above all, a chance to pause and take stock, to take a sensible if still "Lenten" measure of just how well are doing spiritually at this point this midway point in Lent, and how we are doing spiritually in our lives, which may well be at, or even far beyond the midway point in our various histories!

Seems to be that either we are doing well in our Lenten discipline, or we are not. In either case, St. Paul's' words in this morning's Epistle are especially welcome - enough to lighten up any Lenten gloom of the most self-denying Christians. How we need Paul, and we need him right now, this very moment If we are doing well in Lent and in our lives of grace before God, perhaps especially if we are doing quite well, we need the reminder that it does not depend on us and what we do - salvation and redemption. If we are doing poorly, not living up to any of the special things we vowed to ourselves to do, then we also need the reminder that it does not depend on us and what we don't do, or are not able to do.

The Church realizes that, and brings on St. Paul with his heaviest guns just in time, just when we need to hear it most, no matter how we are doing with Lent this Lent.

Today's Epistle contains what is probably St. Paul's most famous cry, certainly his most characteristic:

"By grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God, not because of works, lest any man should boast."

No shorter, simpler way to put it - no way with anything else like this perfection - "By grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God."

We call this The Good News, but that hardly covers it or conveys it does it?

It is splendid news, superb news, the best news imaginable, better than any news ever before imagined, dared, or hoped.

"By grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God"

A simple, Biblical declaration that God finds us good and decent and worthy of his love and his salvation. Not because we always were, or arrived somewhere grand on our own, but because, only because, solely because, he regarded us as lovable, decent, good, and so, by his merest regard, made us so, He did not just hold it before us as a goal to strive for, did not set it as a destiny we would aim for, might strive toward, work at. He made it so, himself, without us doing anything. And because God, the Source of all reality, regards us as good and decent and fine and worthy of his love and care and redemption, we are. His way of looking at things, his method of deciding how things are, establishes Reality. Reality, here, now - not goals, not encouragements, not destinations - Reality, here and now. (Unless, of course, we are totality wrong about God, in which none of it matters and there is no point to anything at all!)

All of this does not mean that God is shortsighted, or overly-indulgent. He is aware, more aware than perhaps even we are, of all that is wrong in our lives, all that is, and has long been, out-of-whack, all the things we do so badly. It just means that that does not ultimately matter. The only ultimate is God. God is what ultimately matters. God decides we are one way, a good way, and so we are, whatever we may sadly think or ourselves, or others may cruelly or derisively think about us,

We are good, decent, justified, saved - all by grace, not by our own works. Lest anyway should boast. Though we should not boast, but do let us give thanks, and live in love and devotion and fidelity to the God who loves us and saved us and made us good and decent and worthwhile - by his grace.

I would call this Refreshment Sunday indeed!