Approaching Lent: Preparing for a Season of Spiritual Resistance
I didn’t grow up celebrating Lent. I didn’t grow up being forced to not eat sweets or even meat on Fridays. I didn’t grow up doing much of…
I didn’t grow up celebrating Lent. I didn’t grow up being forced to not eat sweets or even meat on Fridays. I didn’t grow up doing much of anything until we celebrated Easter Sunday.
There was no “approach to Easter.” There was only Easter.
There was no remembrance except to mention it briefly as context to Christ’s victorious resurrection. In my largely evangelical background, the key component of Christ’s work was not in the misery and death but in the empty tomb.
And, to be fair, that isn’t far from the truth. I just think it misses a significant spiritual opportunity.
As I adopted increased Lenten practices in my own spiritual journey, I admittedly spent years doing what I saw others do — namely, I gave things up. I did this because that’s what I thought it was about. I thought it was about suffering as Christ suffered. I thought it was about denying myself as some sort of punitive salvific measure to walk in solidarity with Christ as he defeated sin and death. And I could certainly write that paper and preach that sermon. But now, I think it’s more than that.
I think Lent is about spiritual resistance.
But before we dive into that, let’s cover some of the basics for others like me that didn’t grow up celebrating Lent or perhaps were given bad or incomplete information.
What Is Lent?
The word “lent” comes from the old Anglo Saxon word, “lencten” which means “to lengthen” and is the Old English word for spring — a season marked for agrarian societies by the lengthening of days.
In church history, The Didache, an apostolic book thought to predate some of the New Testament writings, addresses this 40 day fast in preparation for baptism, he admonishes a fast by “ … the baptizer, the one to be baptized, and any others that are able …”.
And since the early church welcomed its new members each year through the sacrament of baptism on Easter Sunday, it appears that this season of fasting and remembering our baptisms spread throughout the early church, being officially finalized and acknowledged at the Council of Nicea in 325.
That’s the history, but from a spiritual perspective, Lent has a much deeper meaning.
In the contemplative tradition, Lent is a sacred season dedicated to deepening our connection with God by entering into a season of confession and practice of the presence of God to purify our souls and clear the way for a more profound union with the divinity of our Creator.
While it is deeply personal, it often involves practices of self-denial, prayer, detachment from worldly desires, and a profound openness to God’s transformative grace. Lent is an annual inward pilgrimage to do a little spring cleaning of our hearts and souls as we seek a renewed union and more intimate relationship with God both as individuals as well as in community.
Lent as a Season of Spiritual Resistance
I ascribe wholly to a Christus Victor theology that while Christ did, in fact, die in our place, he did so not to appease the Father — God paying off God — but instead died perfect that he might defeat the power of sin and death that had a choke hold in humanity and prevented humanity from entering fully into their created station and birthright.
With that in mind, the logical question might be, “If Jesus defeated sin and death on the cross, then why is there still so much chaos, death, and sin active in the world?”
For me, that comes down to an “already, not yet” view of our hope in Christ (I completely stole this from Greg Boyd). In this eschatology (theology of what is to come), the satan has already been defeated even if a dark, creeping shadow and his minions are left to lie and twist the truth until Christ returns — in other words, they have no real power, as written in Athanasius’ account of Anthony of the Desert’s teachings in Life of Antony; they can only trick us and deceive us into exerting our own free will to do what is contrary to our own best interests.
And that is where the idea of resistance comes in.
The Lenten season is all at once a rededicating ourselves to our inheritance as Christ followers grafted into his heavenly Kingdom here on earth and beyond while also being an active intent of our own will to purge ourselves of all the spiritual grime, through the grace of God, we might have accepted willingly or unwillingly over the past year(s) — to once again say that though we may be in this world, we are not, in fact, of this world.
It is a season of forty days (plus Sundays) where we follow our spiritual ancestors (Moses, Elijah, Jesus, and so many of our Saints) as we take hold of our temporal desires for comfort and security in exchange for our birthright of shalom and rest in the providence and love of God.
The Root System of My Resistance During Lent
So, where do we go from here?
Largely, that is between you and God. It is perhaps a piece of the answer as you align yourselves with the practice of your particular stream of Christianity. For me, it is shared with my community in the Order of Fist & and Flower.
Our rule should be communal whenever possible. Going at it alone to do serious spiritual work can be spiritually scary at best and spiritually detrimental at worst.
But as I examine my own thoughts and practices in relation to the contemplative traditions I follow, some patterns have emerged that I’d be happy to share if they might be helpful.
Purification of the Soul: Like many of my contemplative ancestors, I see Lent as a time for the purification of the soul. I believe that through acts of confession, self-denial, seeking restitution, reconciling with others, and reflecting on my sins and shortcomings, God meets my intention and desire and cleanses the spiritual impurities and attachments to empire that I have accumulated over the year. I want to be very clear here to avoid any accusation of legalism or works-based salvation. It is not my work that does the salvific work, it is God meeting my confession and desire to be made whole who works in me as an act of mercy and grace.
Contemplative Prayer: Lent offers a special opportunity for contemplatives and Christians at large to engage in focused prayer and meditation. We believe that by entering into a focused state of deep contemplation and prayer, we can draw closer to God and experience God’s presence more intimately through a supernatural work of the Holy Spirit. This contemplative aspect of Lent can involve extended periods of silence, solitude, and focused meditation on God’s love and attributes or it can mean sitting quietly in your car during your lunch at work. I find it helpful to reread Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God in the weeks leading up to Lent in order to use my work as a contemplative practice as well and to try to more fully practice a “ … pray without ceasing.”
Detachment from Worldly Desires: When we give up “things,” I believe this is where are heart should be centered — not in punishing ourselves, but instead to break the hold that the spirit of empire grabs and yanks at our soul, especially in our age of fast satisfaction. Contemplatives throughout the years have emphasized the primary importance of detaching from worldly attachments and desires and have used Lent as a period of time each year to rekindle this holy desire. This detachment allows us to create a space within our hearts for God’s grace to flow more freely, and by letting go of the distractions and preoccupations of everyday life, we seek to open themselves to a deeper union with God. In the words of Tyler Durden, “The things you own end up owning you.” Our Lenten practices are a resistance against the need to collect things on the back of our own ambitions.
Spiritual Illumination: There is something about spiritual disciplines and the intentional practice of them. They are a spiritual salve to our spiritual malady. And as so many medicines do, they create a new spiritual ecosystem within us that is more friendly to spiritual growth and illumination. I believe that as we progress in our practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, we become more receptive to divine insight and revelation. This period of inner enlightenment can lead to a deeper understanding of God’s mysteries and a closer relationship with Him as well as a better understanding of ourselves and our spiritual blind spots.
Suffering and Redemptive Love: I know I said earlier that Lent wasn’t about suffering and sacrifice, but we want to be careful to not throw the baby out with the bathwater. One of the great traditions of Lent is to reflect on the life of Jesus Christ (generally) and the suffering of Christ during during his journey to the cross (specifically). We see Christ’s life and suffering on the cross as an expression of redemptive love that offers the opportunity for their own transformation and redemption. Lenten practices often involves a deep contemplation of Christ’s sacrifice and a willingness to embrace suffering for the sake of spiritual growth as well as a rekindling of the flame in our hearts to suffer and sacrifice in solidarity for the sake of our brothers, sisters, and neighbor. And it is through this contemplation of Christ’s sacrifice that the glory and victory of his resurrection are most completely felt. It allows to not only know of the power of Christ’s redemption but to truly celebrate and feast in the divine victory of Christ over sin and death.
… In Closing
My relationship with Lent is still a mixed bag. It is still not a season that I enjoy and look forward to. My flesh abhors the thought of it. It is messy. It is uncomfortable. It is not fun to limit what I eat. It is not fun to stand face-to-face with all the ugly parts of myself again. It is not fun to enter into a season where I am daily confronted with how utterly dependent and helpless I am in the face of even minor inconveniences.
On the other hand, as the years go by, and I spend more and more time embracing contemplative practices and experience God working in my life more fully in spite of myself, I find myself exhaling at what I know will be the spiritual fruit of these forty days leading up to a triumphant Easter. I know how spiritually focused I will feel, the life that will surge through my body as I discard the things that bring comfort in the moment while weighing me down over time.
I know this is where I will find my advancement to my ultimate goal — to reunite my heart with a loving, trinitarian God who never gave up on me, never gave up on us but has continued to meet us over and over again when we dare to say, “I am here” when God calls our name.
I pray peace to each and all of you. May you find your rest. May you find the heart of God once again.