Check the Turbulence of our Flesh

“Check the turbulence of our flesh.”

This short phrase that comes from one of the closing prayers of the Compline service strikes me every time I hear it. Think of a time you’ve been on a plane when turbulence became a problem. It can be terrifying to feel such powerful forces being exerted on the plane.  What was a smooth flight on the plane that previously felt so secure can, during bad turbulence, feel like it’s about to fall apart.

Let’s be honest: we’ve all had moments when we have felt like this, but not on a plane. Moments come when we feel as if we’re flying through life and we hit bad turbulence—Sharp, unexpected drops. Jarring shaking. Feeling afraid but with the inability to do anything about it. Sometimes the source is a straight out sinful passion. Sometimes it’s a situation outside of us—a struggle with something or someone at work or at home or school. Sometimes the turbulence is a feeling from deep within. It might be brand new or one that we’ve suffered with for years, even decades.

“Check the turbulence of our flesh.”

This beautiful, short prayer does two very distinct but important things. The first is that it acknowledges the presence of the turbulence. Whether the source is around us or within us, we experience the turbulence in our bodies—a lump in the throat, a tightness in the chest, an ache in our belly. We experience this turbulence “in our flesh.”

The second thing the prayer does is ask God to “check” it. The use of the word “check” in this context is not to check it like we check to see if the food is ready to come out of the oven or checking an account balance. Rather, it’s how we use the word “check” when we see a hockey player slamming into another one and “checking” him into the wall. Whatever progress the person who is checked was having is halted. When we pray that God would “check the turbulence of our flesh”, this is what we ask God for: to powerfully and authoritatively put an end to the turbulence. And the gift of Lent is one powerful way He does this.

Our Lenten journey reaches the halfway point this Sunday, the Sunday of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. We raise on high not only Jesus’ Cross, but the Way of the Cross that he pioneered for us. As the most powerful human being that ever lived, He showed us the way to true inner strength and peace: the humility, trust and obedience given freely to the Father. We will see Him physically taking up His Cross only after navigating the immense turbulence of enduring betrayal, mockery, abandonment and eventually torture and death. But in the midst of all that outer turbulence, we will see in Him an inner peace that “passes all understanding.” The good news is that He offers us the way to share in this peace.

“Check the turbulence of our flesh.”

The Lenten struggle to pray, fast, and love is all about returning to (or beginning to live) life—walking the Way of the Cross, following Jesus by working to have the same humility, trust, and obedience that He gave to His Father. The same Father who, in another prayer, Jesus taught us to call Our Father. Yes, it is difficult. Yes, it takes sacrifice. Yes, it is sometimes the choice of suffering over ease and luxury. It is all those things, but it is also the way of peace, stillness, and calm even in the midst of turbulent surroundings.

Sometimes an aircraft has to change its direction and even its altitude to avoid turbulence. We are no different. Let us allow this Lenten season to be that change of direction and yes, even altitude. May we find our way to the inner peace we all crave.

“Check the turbulence of our flesh.”