Week five: the practice of Lent

Assignment, Week 5: “Citing this week’s readings, what recommendations would you give churches today observing the season of Lent?”

Many of the religious traditions practiced today survive from a time when the rhythm of daily life was shaped by the church.[1] They remain as powerful reminders of who we are, of where we come from, and of how we are to live in relationship, connected to the earth, all of its inhabitants, and God. The danger here, as Alexander Schmemann writes in Great Lent, is when “little by little one begins to understand religion itself as a system of symbols and customs rather than to understand the latter as a challenge to spiritual renewal and effort.”[2] For Schmemann, the burning question is: “How can we—besides introducing one or two ‘symbolical’ changes into our daily life—keep Lent?”[3] In determining how to engage with traditional Lent customs in ways that are meaningful in our current lives, we need to understand how the traditions of Lent were originally intended. We then need to consider how these traditions can be practiced in a way that is meaningful to our local communities while also preserving the authenticity of each traditions.

For example, fasting is one tradition that has been changed from generation to generation, at times required, other times banned. In his essay “The Three Days and the Forty Days,” Patrick Regan writes: “The meaning and value of fasting derives from its being the symbol of all that the Church during Lent is and always ought to be: emptied of any pretension to self-subsistence, and filled instead with the Gift and presence of him who is the Church’s life.”[4] Today, the fasting of Lent is traditionally represented by “giving up something you like.” If taken seriously, this could be a powerful practice. But what about adding in something that is hard for you? For example, if you spend most of your waking hours at work, why not commit to dinner with you family during Lent? Or, if you tend to order out or eat prepared dinners, why not commit to preparing (with great care) an evening meal, trying always to invite others to join you? When I think of an alternative to fasting for myself, I remember the meals I’ve eaten oryoki style during sesshin. Compared to them, fasting sounds easy! If the goal of fasting is to empty ourselves out and to make space within ourselves for God, alternatives to fasting would include any practice that encourages us to pay deep attention to the role of consumption in our lives.

In our current culture of busyness and individualism, I have found the qualities of love and care-taking (for both self and others) to be quite revolutionary. Lent is “sober, reflective, and watchful”[5] but this doesn’t mean that we have to treat ourselves harshly. Rather, Lent calls for us to treat ourselves and each other with great care. “‘The discipline of the forty days should heal us and restore the purity of our minds,’” writes Pope Leo the Great.[6] And as the Handbook reminds us, the discipline of Lent is meant sustain and refresh us in preparation for the Easter-Pentecost Season.[7]

Lent is a time for us to slow down and to notice God’s absence. It is a time for us to observe where we have turned away from God and to pay attention to those things we hide behind both individually and collectively. This process of purification includes the practice of fasting (which, in itself, includes various forms), the practice of clearing and planning a garden plot, the practice of reflective journaling, expressive dance, silent meditation, communal prayer, song and so on. What is important here is that we recognize our patterns of relating, paying attention to what works and what doesn’t. Then through our reflective practices, we work toward shifting what doesn’t work and emptying out new space for growth. Spring is on its way!

[1] Ibid. 87
[2] Ibid., 90
[3] Schmemann 87
[4] Regan 134
[5] Handbook 109
[6] Regan 130
[7] Handbook 106-107