Lent

During his passion, Jesus remained fully aware of what was going on around him and to him. He participated fully in his body, even as he hung on the cross. He refused the wine mixed with myrrh that might have given him some pain relief. His intent was to be fully aware and to participate in every aspect of his humanity.

Lent, besides being a nuisance to clothiers and excellent fire starting tender (oh wait, that would be lint with an “i” and tinder with an “i”), originated as a season of soul searching and repentance in preparation for Easter (that would be soul searching with an “I” and repentance with an “I”). During the forty days of Lent, many believers choose to abstain from some form of pleasure, believing that self-denial will facilitate spiritual focus and serve as a mild imitation of Jesus’ forty-day fast at the beginning of His earthly ministry.

When I was single I found that the state of my car provided a mirror to my life. When a hectic schedule reigned, the clutter and dust would accumulate, increasingly so as winter wore on. A couple of warm spring days would do wonders for both my car and my soul as the sun beckoned me outside to give them attention. Since I’ve been married, the car has not been mine to claim. We’re a single car couple, which is doable given Holland’s networks of bike paths and public transport, and the mirror has moved inside to my home

I don’t know about you, but I came into Lent all gung-ho about engaging in the disciplines of this season. You may call me a masochist, but Lent really is one of my favorite times of year. Despite the fact that it always seems to sneak up on me, Lent is a season of attentiveness, of awareness, of being clear-eyed about ourselves and our world. Things I definitely need more of in my life.

Have you ever thought how amazingly ironic it is that Jesus’ great prayer of unity and oneness in John 17 comes immediately before his crossing the Kidron Valley to the olive grove where he would be betrayed, denied, arrested, captured by soldiers, and ushered into the multiple miseries that accompany him at the end of his passion week?

Fasting is all about feasting.

That thought was new to me.  It helps with how I enter into practices of the Lent season.  It isn’t what I give up that matters (although I always do give up something) as much as what I indulge in that makes Lent meaningful.

I attended a retreat shortly after I had just been diagnosed with cancer in my right kidney. When I asked God what needed healing the most he said, “Let go of your need to control.”

Ash Tuesday

Each year as Lent begins,

ashes on our foreheads

give us stark reminder

of our fragile state;

By the time this blog is posted, I won’t know about it. (At least in my Newsfeed—but don’t worry, I’m not fasting from the World Wide Web entirely, I’ll still be checking The Daily Conversation!) One of the things I “give up” for Lent every year is Facebook.  I’ve heard all kinds of comments—about how weird I am, or couldn’t I just stick with caffeine, or why even bother?  I’m not alone in this 40 day abstinence from social media.