To Share or Not Share Our Lenten Vows – I’m Sharing Mine

During the announcements this past Sunday, I invited everyone to take part in our Ash Wednesday Service. I briefly shared that if you have ever had the experience that I had of sitting in a church sanctuary Easter Sunday with the realization that you were not ready to celebrate the glory of the Resurrection, I encourage you to participate this Lent with us. It prepares our hearts, enriches our lives and amplifies our worship to our Lord.

So off and on for the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do and not do for Lent. In some sense, each year gets tougher, but each year offers clarity as well so there’s a good bit of joy in thinking about this.

Speaking of joy, I started to see that for many, the time of Lent does not contain joy. Maybe it’s the time of year, where it’s cold in the South and not so cold in the Northeast ;). For others, they may be going through a tough season of life. May they experience peace during this time. Then there is the Twitterverse. I saw some negative vibes on the topic of Lent these past few days. Hopefully, those moments are not indicative of their overall perspective of Lent (or their lives).

I get that some are annoyed by the tweets and Facebook posts of what is being given up. If I may instigate for a second, perhaps they are annoyed that they are not creative enough to give up something “cool” for Lent and as some often do, push back on the attempts of others.  Perhaps they simply have chosen not to participate in Lent (in this particular way or at all). Still some are participating but do not wish to disclose their commitments because they may feel its arrogant to do so. To that I say come on, share, it may be helpful to many. It’s only arrogant if you think it’s so incredible. One could make the case that you can be just as arrogant privately and silently.

So should we share about what we’re doing for Lent? I don’t see why not if our hearts are seeking to commune with God and encourage others to do the same. For those whose hearts are in the right place and choose not to share, I respect that. I do. Just as long as you don’t think Christ’s admonition of the self-righteous Pharisee is the justification (which I keep hearing). The Pharisee stands on the corner praying loudly to get attention, praise and notoriety. Had he genuinely prayed for the marginalized and for his own legalism, I think Jesus would have said something different. I think it’s good that we share our spiritual practices with each other if our motivation is for edification and for the glory of God. He knows our hearts, we know our conscience, let us be judged by Him.

It’s in this context, that I offer what I’m doing for Lent. The theme for our Ash Wednesday service is “Broken Vessels”. Loved the idea of it and I started thinking what that meant for me. How broken am I? What about the brokenness around me? In the lives of others? Throughout our World? Eventually these questions and thoughts pushed me to my theme. And this year I’m focusing on “the Forgotten”. If you’ve been following the blog, you know f’ve been thinking about celebretism lately and to focus on the forgotten seems appropriate in consideration of where I landed.

Who are the people and what are the things that I have forgotten? And what about our “brokeness?”

This question will be in my prayers, conversations, in my readings, and in my meditations. Of course, I always add something for Lent as well. It generally includes something spiritually formative, something financial pointing towards my theme. I’ll be doing all of these in some way.

This year, I could not find anything “original” to give up. Previous years have included giving up coffee. Last year was giving up coffee and Guinness (I would have given up alcohol completely but I was running a pub church gathering and refused to not order a beer out of principle – you see?). This year I considered doing the same, or give up chocolate or social media and a bunch of others but I found none that compelling. It’s now easy for me to give up coffee and at the risk of sounding even more arrogant, it’s become cliche for me to do it. If I really wanted to suffer, I should give up drinking good coffee and drink Folgers. Now that would be suffering but I would be contributing to the unfair wages to coffee farmers as well so that doesn’t seem worthy of my Lent.

Every year, someone suggests not giving up anything for Lent.  Every year I think that’s an easy way out but this year, I think I understand.   In adding more will force me to give up something, probably many things.  This will create stress and anxiety for me which if my Lenten mindset is healthy, should force me to depend more on the Lord.

I struggled on just about every aspect of Lent this year, including the financial part of it. I enjoyed saving the money I spent on coffee in years past and giving it to either a clean water campaign or a fair-trade coffee non-profit. This year, I think I am going to give this offering to my church. Why? Because I find myself giving my extra offerings outside my local church and to now give it there seems “counter-cultural” (at least to me). To some I know this sounds very weird.  To others, you probably get exactly what I’m saying.

I’m reading a bunch of books and some Lenten devotionals and participating in our church’s invitation to Read the New Testament in 40 Days. I may have bitten off too much with what I have selected to read and again, I’m sure it’s in this adding that I will need to give up other things in order to do. Honestly, I look forward to it.

But reading isn’t Lent. Nor is it in coffee, or chocolate, or what we give and don’t do and all that. It’s not in sharing what we’re doing or not sharing what we doing. The most beautiful moments I’ve experienced in Lent come when the senses of our hearts are just a little more heightened and a bit more sensitive. It’s here where we find/discover/remember the truths of the Cross, of the Resurrection and the Hope and Life Jesus offers. Thanks for reading and hope you have a great Lent.