Closing The Trench

The season of Lent invites us to reflect deeply on our lives and journeys, encouraging a powerful act of letting go that paves the way for renewal and growth: forgiving ourselves. 

I came across this poem by Wendell Berry in his "New Collected Works," and it resonated with me powerfully: 

“At start of spring I open a trench
In the ground. I put into it
The winter’s accumulation of paper,
Pages I do not want to read
Again, useless words, fragments,
errors. And I put into it
the contents of the outhouse:
light of the suns, growth of the ground,
Finished with one of their journeys.
To the sky, to the wind, then,
and to the faithful trees, I confess
my sins: that I have not been happy
enough, considering my good luck;
have listened to too much noise,
have been inattentive to wonders,
have lusted after praise.
And then upon the gathered refuse,
of mind and body, I close the trench
folding shut again the dark,
the deathless earth. Beneath that seal
the old escapes into the new.”

I love how this poem provides a beautiful metaphor for this transformative process. Berry begins with the straightforward act of opening a trench, a physical gesture that symbolizes the necessary task of preparing ourselves for the new season ahead. 

“At start of spring I open a trench / In the ground. I put into it / The winter’s accumulation of paper, / Pages I do not want to read / Again, useless words, fragments, / errors.” 

Here, Berry invites us to contemplate the weight of our past mistakes—those “useless words” and “fragments” of our lives that no longer serve us. Lent mirrors this call; it is a time to confront our imperfections and consider what burdens we carry that hinder our growth.

As the poem continues, Berry confesses how he has strayed from gratitude and mindfulness: 

“I have not been happy enough, / considering my good luck.” 

This sentiment resonates strongly during Lent. It reminds us that we often overlook the blessings in our lives in pursuit of fleeting accolades. We must acknowledge the distractions that noise our world and dull our senses.

Berry beautifully encapsulates the essence of release and rebirth in the closing lines: 

“the old escapes into the new.” 

This powerful imagery reflects the biblical promise of renewal found in 2 Corinthians 5:17, which says: 

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” 

In this season, we are called to let go of our past—our sins, regrets, and disappointments—much like Berry’s accumulated refuse buried in the earth, transforming it into something new.

As we journey through Lent, let us take inspiration from Berry’s poem to acknowledge our past mistakes and instead focus on our potential for growth. 

Each time we confess our sins and recognize our shortcomings, we engage in the sacred act of letting go: closing the trench on our past, sealing it with faith and hope for what lies ahead. 

Let this season be a time of introspection and clarity as we prepare our hearts for the joy of Easter and the promise of new life. 

Embrace this opportunity to shed the burdens that weigh you down and step into the beauty of renewal. The coming of Spring signifies not just a change in season but an awakening of our spirits, urging us to rise and thrive in the light. 

May you find peace, courage, and inspiration as you practice letting go of the past and embracing the new life awaiting you.