A Case for Lent
Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. My wife and I attended a service where a priest smeared ashes across our foreheads in the sign of the cross. As he was marking us, he said, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” It is good for us to remember this, to remember that one day we will surely die -- though I confess that most days I’d rather not remember it.
But there we were last night, sitting in a church remembering just that. “To dust you shall return.” After the service was finished, we exited the church silently. The thought of talking seemed so hollow after such a heavy moment. It’s a sobering thing, after all: being told that you’re going to be worm food one day. In light of such knowledge, sometimes it’s best for all mortal flesh to simply keep silence.
Lent
As I’m sure you already know, Ash Wednesday commences the church season of Lent, a 40-day period of fasting leading up to Easter Sunday. It is nowhere prescribed in the Scripture, nor is a Lenten-type 40-day fast referenced specifically in church history until the Canons of Nicea (Canon 5) in 325 AD. So, why do so many Christians observe Lent then? Why does Josiah Pitts, a pastor at a large non-denominational church, go to an Ash Wednesday service? Isn’t this all just dead traditionalism, or works righteousness, or Roman Catholic propaganda?
With such questions in mind, I’d like to make a very brief case to you that Lent is worth observing (along with all the other seasons of the church calendar). Of course, just like anything in the Christian life, keeping certain traditions can become empty ritualism; even reading the Scriptures (John 5:39-40)! But with a heart united to Christ through faith, observing a season like Lent can be a powerful way to live out the story of Jesus.
Why Fast?
Lent is a period of fasting and self-denial, which is not exactly our dominant hand as Americans. Feasting is not so difficult; fasting is a different story. But as followers of Christ, self-denial is part of the gig: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). We’re expected to deny certain desires and hunger pangs every day, to one degree or another. But why?
Because until Christ returns, our hearts -- though they have been purified and transformed by the Holy Spirit -- still crave after sinful things. Not all of our desires are good, and we must learn to sternly say “no” to them by the grace of the Spirit (Galatians 5:16-26). Our hearts have a desire for sexual fulfillment, but we must learn to deny those desires unless we are married; we crave comfort, but we must learn to deny that craving when it keeps us from being generous toward God and the poor; our bodies hunger for food, but we must to learn to exercise control with our bodies so that they do not control us.
Fasting, when practiced with a right heart, is act of just such self-denial. It teaches us that man does not live by bread or comfort or sexual fulfillment alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God (Matthew 4:4). The whole person is involved: heart, soul, mind, and body. Lent provides a dedicated time and space for embodied self-denial, but it doesn’t stop there: it also points us to the hungry and suffering body of our Savior, Jesus Christ: he too knows these pangs. He felt deep hunger in the wilderness, and he felt the pain of self-denial as he hung on the cross. The season of Lent keeps us in touch with this part of Christ’s story.
The point of all this, however, is not denial for denial’s sake. As Paul might say it, “Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable” (1 Corinthians 9:25). In other words, we deny ourselves now so that we might one day enjoy an eternal feast hosted by God himself. On that day, all of our desires will be holy and right, and there will no longer be a need for fasting or self-denial. But until then, we observe seasons like Lent.
So Then
But of course, Lent is by no means required in order to live a holy life; nor does observing Lent make one Christian better than another. To go back to Paul, “One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord” (Romans 14:5-6). Let all that you do be done to the glory of God, and you’ll be just fine, whether you observe the church calendar or not. But if fasting is not a regular discipline for you, I hope you will at least consider observing Lent this year.
When it comes to Lent, in particular, it’s easy to think only in terms of what you might give up; but think also of what you might gain as a result:
You could fast one meal per day, and gain that time for dedicated prayer.
You could abstain from all social media, and gain that time for reading the Scriptures (or reading other good books, or listening to good preaching).
You could give up something you greatly enjoy, like coffee or alcohol, and set aside the money that you would normally spend on it for charitable giving.
The beauty of Lent is that, after 40 days, it’s over. You are not saying you will give these things up forever; you are simply denying yourself for a brief time in order to stay in touch with the story of Christ.
And as a final note, if you do indeed decide to observe Lent, remember: if your faith is in Christ, God is already for you. You’re not fasting to curry bonus points with him; you’re fasting to remind yourself, in a bodily and tangible way, that God is the source of all good and needful things. Christ is our bread from heaven, our fount of living water, and he offers himself to us freely (John 6:33-35, 7:37-38). So come to him, and find the most wonderful food and drink you will ever know. Deny yourself, and find life to the full in Christ.
