Sometimes the whole notion of giving up or taking on something for Lent seems to fall short. Instead of being a path to go deeper, it becomes one more way to measure success or improvement. Instead of offering a way to focus our habits and appetites on God, it feels like another thing added to the dreaded to do (or to not do) list. It can feel distinctly un-faithful.
If you are already planning your Lenten discipline, I wish you well and I don’t mean to discourage you. But if, like me, you are thinking you “should” figure out what you’re doing for Lent, might I suggest you don’t?
I started thinking about Lent last fall. It’s a pastor’s liability, always planning ahead of the season we are actually in. I was listening to a colleague preach about how hard Martin Luther worked at salvation for so long, thinking he needed to do something more to bring it about. Until one day when, as my colleague said, he finally “let go.” He realized that we are “saved by grace through faith” (Ephesians 2:8) and that his own efforts were never going to get him there. God was. I’d been following along with the sermon, feeling tight-chested as I listened to Luther’s frantic attempts at self-salvation. So “let go” felt like a breath of fresh air.
What if we did that, too? What if, as a faithful way of engaging God during the season of Lent, we decide to let go of our plans and projects, no matter how inspired? Let go of plans to “make it” without chocolate. Let go of the temptation to cram more into our schedules in the name of the Spirit. For now, let go of spiritual striving and trust that God can pick up the slack. Trust that maybe God doesn’t care as much about your spiritual sweat equity as you do and would rather take you by the hand and lead you gently to a new place.
What if we refused to fill up the space and the time that letting go would free up? How would God show up in all that room? What would we notice that so easily escapes our attention with all of that other stuff in the way?
Lent is a season for self-reflection, for confession and clearing away that which keeps us from God. Sometimes it’s our own notions of self-improvement and spiritual discipline that get in the way, especially when we make completion or perfection the goal, rather than deeper knowledge and love of God.
But it’s hard to slog through 40 days without a focal point, and for the less Zen-minded of us, emptiness and cleared space might not be enough to claim our focus. With less in the way, perhaps we can maintain focus by paying more attention to everyday moments, allowing them to breathe and resonate in ways we don’t recognize when we are rushed and striving.
Here are a few untested ways you might let God take you by the hand and show you something new this Lent. If they feel like accumulating or clenching or list-making, let go again. Leave them here and find your own focus. Either way, I hope you’ll let me know how it goes.
- Make 1 meal from scratch each day or each week and eat it sitting down at the table without any media. It doesn’t have to be fancy and you have to eat anyway. This puts the focus on the bounty God provides and the people with whom we share it. If you live alone, savor the flavors and textures and consider where the ingredients traveled from and who helped get them to your table. If you don’t cook, you don’t have to start with Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Make eggs and toast or grilled cheese. The point is to prepare it yourself and savor it with intention and gratitude.
- Spend 10 minutes per day with God. Prayer, meditation, a walk at dawn, giving thanks, listening, yoga…The amount of time is arbitrary (and you’ll have plenty after all that letting go). The important part is being intentional about it and noticing how God shows up – and how you do.
- Once a week, call or write to one person you love and don’t see often. Give yourself the time to re-connect and really listen when you ask how they are. You aren’t trying to plan or accomplish anything, but simply to enjoy someone wonderful. Tell them how you are. Tell them what you are (not) doing for Lent. During the week, think about and pray for who you just talked with and who you will reach out to next.
- Make a point of talking to someone new and learning his/her name. At church, at work, in the coffee shop. You have time now so let yourself connect with someone in your orbit who usually goes unnoticed.
- Before you check email or Facebook, pause and ask God to bless your time online. At work or at home or on your phone, simply pause and recognize that God can be present in these activities, too.
- Ask God a question each day/each week. This one depends on how many questions you have. Ask with the full faith that God hears you and wants you to learn the answer…eventually. See what happens that day or week as you live with the question.
Thank you for the reflection, Deborah. I’m going to put these tips to good use this Lent! and beyond!
“Trust that maybe God doesn’t care as much about your spiritual sweat equity as you do and would rather take you by the hand and lead you gently to a new place.” Ohhh yes. I so needed to read this today. Thank you Deborah, for sharing your thoughtful and creative insights with the world.
Thanks, Caroline and Courtney. What a joy to know you are “out there” reading.
Thanks, Deborah. My initial reaction is sadness–sadness that for many our culture has turned even the opportunity to enter more deeply into relationship with our loving Creator/Redeemer/Sustainer into yet another competition and/or compulsion. I really like the metaphor of clearing space for God. The concrete suggestions should prove helpful to some folk.
Thanks, Sylvia. I appreciate your attentive reading and reflections. I don’t know how many people are truly engaged in compulsion like this but I recognize the tendency in that direction sometimes, including in myself. Clearing space does seem to be an antidote. If we just keep adding more, what are we actually adding to our lives? When we make room, it’s easier to see what we’re working with – and what we aren’t.