Emptying and filling
With the imposition of ashes today on Ash Wednesday, the Church is called to a holy Lent. I think people most readily think of this church season as a time of fasting and “giving things up,” but at it’s core Lent is yet another invitation to see how Kairos time invades our Chronos time, to step into the bigger story of God’s remaking of the world.
The Beatitudes (Matt. 5), I think, are one of the best ways to illustrate how God’s grace comes to us particularly in the Lenten season as he give us a bone-deep confidence that what our senses can perceive and narratives can conceive is not all that there is.
In our life in Christ, we find that somehow, underneath the poverty of spirit we feel so acutely, there is hope of a kingdom that won’t crush us in our weakness.
In our mourning, there is an unexplainable comfort.
In our refusal to grasp for the things of this world at all costs, there is an inheritance—unperishable, undefiled, unfading—placed in our empty, open hands.
At the bottom of our hunger and thirst to be whole is the secret that we were, in fact, made for this wholeness we long for, and that it will be given again.
In the endless needs around us and our limitations in responding to them emerges the assurance that God’s mercy is a well that will not run dry.
In our frustration with our mixed motives and longing for rightly ordered loves, we are drawn to the One whose intent toward his broken world is only ever for redemption and restoration.
As we hold out the inherent dignity of others and call others toward our common Source of life, we find a deep and secure belonging in our Maker.
As we endure everything from the minor acts of malice that wound and inconvenience to the kinds of cruelties that end life, we can know a deeper oneness with our King who humbled himself, taking on human flesh, bearing our death in his death and raising our life in his life.
But that incomprehensible filling of hope and comfort and righteousness and mercy and belonging Jesus talks about in the beatitudes only comes after we are first empty. If there is to be a greater filling, there must first be a carving out.
And so in Lent we do “give things up,” not to gain holiness by asceticism, but that in laying aside good gifts from God, we might expose our weakness and dependence and know his strength and all-surpassing worth. We confess our sins, naming the dark corners of our hearts that haven’t heard his name, not to heap up shame on our own heads, but that we might experience the healing warmth of his loving Light. We give to the poor, not to make ourselves feel better or be better or assuage our guilt, but because in perfect love God came to us in a human body and lived in poverty—forever standing in solidarity with the poor—to give his life for the life of the world.
In the end, Lenten practices are about releasing what is lesser and opening your hands for a deeper, fuller experience of God’s grace.
Here is how that is looking for me and for our family this year. I share this not because this is the “right way to do it,” (I mean, you do know that you’re completely free to not observe Lent at all, right?) but to show that living into God’s invitation to his people as we walk with him toward the Cross can look a lot of different ways, and is both personal and communal.
What I’m laying down:
My Ember mug. This one will sound silly to anyone who doesn’t have an Ember mug, but if you have one you know that it’s a big deal for me. My morning cup of coffee (that is still at the perfect temperature even after the hustle and bustle of getting the kids off to school, thanks to this miracle mug) is one of the delights of my day and part of my morning routine. I’m hopeful that this will give me the opportunity to refocus on Christ as my sustainer, not creaturely comforts and having all my preferences fulfilled.
Sugar. This is traditionally given up during Lent, but it is the first time I’ve ever done it. In college, I remember several friends quipping that they were giving up sugar for Lent, because even though it would be miserable, at least they’d lose some weight. In the years since, I struggled to separate those two things, and didn’t feel like I could give up sugar with a clear conscience and a pure motive to know God more deeply in the lack. So opted not to give up sugar. But this year I feel a freedom here that I haven’t since those college days, so I’m giving it a try. Thanks be to God.
Food on Fridays. Our entire church is invited to do this together on this particular day, and as this is the first year in our eight years in Colorado Springs that I’m not pregnant, breastfeeding, or figuring out how to have a normally functioning body that is neither pregnant or breastfeeding, I’m joining in and leaning into prayer as my stomach growls. Eesh. I will not say that I’m excited about this, but I am expectant.
What I’m taking up:
Daily examen practice. I have tried multiple times to make this a regular practice, but it just doesn’t seem to stick. So I’m making it smaller and just committing to it during Lent. I am hopeful that this will allow a more specific confession of sins so that I could experience the freedom of a more specific forgiveness, and have a greater awareness of God’s presence with me throughout my day.
Silence. In my time with the Lord before the kids wake up, I will spend more time waiting for him in focused silence rather than filling every minute with Scripture reading or spoken prayer.
Reading “Humility” by Andrew Murray. I am currently reading this with a friend. I’ve read it several times before, and always am challenged by it.
What my family is doing together:
Memorizing Ps. 51:10-12. We want to give our kids deeper vocabulary to confess their sins to God and to make it a regular practice. This is a great passage that teaches them to ask God to transform their heart to be like his, not merely help them change their behavior.
Reading “The Ten Commandments for All God’s Children”. If you’ve been around here any length of time, you’ve heard me talk about the Fat Cat series. We LOVE these books. And this one teaches the 10 commandments (which we will memorize together as we go) in light of Jesus’s fulfillment of each one. What?! It’s going to be so good.
Ministering to our neighbors in need. One night each week, we’ll purposely make a more simple meal, and give the money we save to our church’s ministry partner, Crossfire Ministries, which (among many other wonderful services) offers no-cost grocery shopping for fresh produce, frozen meats, bread, dairy and canned goods to people in our community.
Feasting on Sundays. In the liturgical tradition, every Sunday—even during Lent—carries the heart of Eastertide. So we’ll light our candles, eat our sugar (and I’ll use my Ember mug!), and invite friends to join us for a meal or tea, or spend time with our extended family.
What Lenten rhythms are you taking up this year? What are you laying down? What might it look like to do this with others? Remember that today may be the first day of Lent, but it is not a deadline to decide how you’ll observe Lent. It’s only the start. Grace upon grace to you as you journey with Jesus to the Cross.