I have a confession: I don’t really “get” Lent. Being raised in the Pentecostal church, the dates that mattered were December 25th, December 31st, and whatever day Easter landed on. Everything else was just a day we prayed Jesus would come back, unless it was Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday or during a revival. Then we prayed that Jesus would come back, but we were in church while we did it. That changed when I became Methodist.
All of a sudden, there were these other dates on the calendar. There were entire seasons I had no idea existed, with, like, rituals, and stuff that was expected of me. It was.. different. Lent especially, I have to admit, came as a very large surprise. Lent came right before Easter, and because of it, made Easter feel more like Christmas. There was this quiet period before this warm, embracing celebration, and I could get behind that. But the whole idea of solemn, 40 days of denial….?
Every time I went to church, someone would ask me about what I was giving up and how it was going. So I did some research. The first year, I purposefully made New Years’ resolutions I knew I couldn’t keep. Then, at Lent, I gave them up. It made people laugh, answered their question, and we could all move on with our pleasant lives… and it worked for a while.
It didn’t seem right for me to be so cheeky and blasé about something that seemed so much to so many. I’d see friends, dyed-in-the-wool Texans give up Dr. Pepper – for 40 days for some reason I just could not wrap my brain around. My mom gave up all fried foods for Lent. Obviously there was something to this, and I just didn’t catch it.
So, the next year, I did some research. I thought maybe if I understood where Lent came from, I’d understand where my friends were coming from, and maybe, just maybe, I could meet them there.
One thing that I found striking was a statement I read about why Lent matters in a decidedly non-Christian place: wikipedia. It said:
So to get my toe in the water, I tried to pick something to give up that would really mean something to me; something that may not seem huge, but God would know I wouldn’t do for any other reason.
I couldn’t really give up Cokes or sodas, because I didn’t drink them. Giving up chocolate just seemed… cruel, and He also has this rule about not killing other people, which seemed likely if I didn’t have it, so really He vetoed that for me. Because of my blood chemistry, I didn’t really have an affinity for fried anything, so that was off the list, and conversely, because of my health, I couldn’t fast, either.
I was caught between a Rock and a not-really-hard-enough place. So I talked to God again, and just asked, if You were to receive something from me, what would You want? What could I give that You would know was hard for me, and not good, not what You’d want me to have anyway?
This year, I’ve given up being late.
Even saying that now, it doesn’t seem Lent-worthy. I mean, I speed – a lot, so I should be able to make it anywhere on time, at least… but no. I aim to be on time, and that doesn’t really work, either, because you really have only one minute to be on time. Then, you’re late.
But it’s not about being late or early or on time. It’s about control and power and me not being the most important person in my life. It means having enough respect and appreciation for the person (or people) that I’m meeting that I want to wait for them to show up when they’re ready. It’s about realizing that although a body at rest tends to stay at rest, God has plans.
I still wrestle with this grand idea of Lent, and the preconceived, mostly Catholic flavored notions connected to it. It’s weird and it’s foreign, and I tend to shy away because it reeks of heavy incense and ritual. But still, there’s something there, and I’ve noticed in the 40 days that lead to Easter, I’m more open to wrestling with that.
All of a sudden, there were these other dates on the calendar. There were entire seasons I had no idea existed, with, like, rituals, and stuff that was expected of me. It was.. different. Lent especially, I have to admit, came as a very large surprise. Lent came right before Easter, and because of it, made Easter feel more like Christmas. There was this quiet period before this warm, embracing celebration, and I could get behind that. But the whole idea of solemn, 40 days of denial….?
Every time I went to church, someone would ask me about what I was giving up and how it was going. So I did some research. The first year, I purposefully made New Years’ resolutions I knew I couldn’t keep. Then, at Lent, I gave them up. It made people laugh, answered their question, and we could all move on with our pleasant lives… and it worked for a while.
It didn’t seem right for me to be so cheeky and blasé about something that seemed so much to so many. I’d see friends, dyed-in-the-wool Texans give up Dr. Pepper – for 40 days for some reason I just could not wrap my brain around. My mom gave up all fried foods for Lent. Obviously there was something to this, and I just didn’t catch it.
So, the next year, I did some research. I thought maybe if I understood where Lent came from, I’d understand where my friends were coming from, and maybe, just maybe, I could meet them there.
One thing that I found striking was a statement I read about why Lent matters in a decidedly non-Christian place: wikipedia. It said:
“There are traditionally forty days in Lent which are marked by fasting, both from foods and festivities, and by other acts of penance. The three traditional practices to be taken up with renewed vigor during Lent are prayer (justice towards God), fasting (justice towards self), and almsgiving (justice towards neighbor). Today, some people give up a vice of theirs, add something that will bring them closer to God, and often give the time or money spent doing that to charitable purposes or organizations.”Justice anywhere aids justice everywhere, right? And Jesus and I both know, Americans favor comfort and familiarity over justice – almost always, given the option. So, taking those two things one step further, I could see how doing without things I know I don’t really need for a period of time would make me appreciate them more when I had them back.
So to get my toe in the water, I tried to pick something to give up that would really mean something to me; something that may not seem huge, but God would know I wouldn’t do for any other reason.
I couldn’t really give up Cokes or sodas, because I didn’t drink them. Giving up chocolate just seemed… cruel, and He also has this rule about not killing other people, which seemed likely if I didn’t have it, so really He vetoed that for me. Because of my blood chemistry, I didn’t really have an affinity for fried anything, so that was off the list, and conversely, because of my health, I couldn’t fast, either.
I was caught between a Rock and a not-really-hard-enough place. So I talked to God again, and just asked, if You were to receive something from me, what would You want? What could I give that You would know was hard for me, and not good, not what You’d want me to have anyway?
This year, I’ve given up being late.
Even saying that now, it doesn’t seem Lent-worthy. I mean, I speed – a lot, so I should be able to make it anywhere on time, at least… but no. I aim to be on time, and that doesn’t really work, either, because you really have only one minute to be on time. Then, you’re late.
But it’s not about being late or early or on time. It’s about control and power and me not being the most important person in my life. It means having enough respect and appreciation for the person (or people) that I’m meeting that I want to wait for them to show up when they’re ready. It’s about realizing that although a body at rest tends to stay at rest, God has plans.
I still wrestle with this grand idea of Lent, and the preconceived, mostly Catholic flavored notions connected to it. It’s weird and it’s foreign, and I tend to shy away because it reeks of heavy incense and ritual. But still, there’s something there, and I’ve noticed in the 40 days that lead to Easter, I’m more open to wrestling with that.
