Many people who grow up in liturgical churches have bad memories of Lent. One book I consulted said this: “Thinking about Lent is not my favorite thing to do. In fact, I rather hate it. Every year, when the subject comes up, I see myself resist” (Gertrud Mueller Nelson, To Dance With God, p. 129). I didn’t grow up in the church, so I don’t have childhood memories to react against. But for many Christians, observing Lent seems like a bad idea, a step away from the freedom we have in Christ.
I’ve especially noticed two attitudes toward Lent that are counterproductive. On the one hand, for many Christians Lent is a time to engage in morbid introspection. It’s a time when we know we should feel bad about our sins, even though we don’t. Or maybe we do feel bad about our sins, and we spend this season thinking about what wretched, miserable people we are. More often than not, this sort of thing only makes us more self-absorbed, and it does nothing to move us in the direction of godliness. It does nothing to free us from sin.
For others, Lent seems to be little more than a time when we dutifully deprive ourselves of things we really enjoy. The idea of Marti Gras, or Fat Tuesday, is based on this mentality. In this view, the last Tuesday before Lent is a time to indulge ourselves, in preparation for a period of legalistic restraint. Of course, many of those who celebrate Fat Tuesday with great abandon do not deny themselves during Lent, and Fat Tuesday has become for them nothing more than an excuse to party.
It might be helpful to begin with the background of Lent. Many Christians in the early church prepared themselves for baptism by a time of prayer and fasting. And often they wanted to be baptized on Easter, to identify in a special way with Jesus’ burial and resurrection. From this a custom developed of fasting in preparation for Easter (even for those who were not being baptized). The length of time for this fasting varied, but eventually the church settled on 40 days, in imitation of Jesus’ fast in the wilderness, just before He began His public ministry. Two Old Testament figures, Moses and Elijah, also fasted for 40 days, and these two met with Jesus at the Transfiguration. So Christians often meditate on the biblical accounts of the Transfiguration either before or during Lent. For most Christians this has not been a total fast, but a time of self denial, of giving up something that would normally be a part of their diet, or something that would normally be part of their daily routine.
Today is called Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Originally the fast began on a Monday, and continued without interruption until Easter. Eastern Orthodox churches still celebrate in this way. But in the Western church, it was later decided that Sunday was too festive a day for fasting, so the Sundays of Lent were set apart as special days. Eliminating Sundays from the fast brought the total number of days to 36, so the season now begins on a Wednesday, to make up for the lost 4 days. It’s called Ash Wednesday because in liturgical churches the pastor puts ashes, in the form of a cross, on the foreheads of worshipers. In the Old Testament, ashes are a symbol of mourning and repentance. Here’s an example from the book of Jeremiah: “O daughter of my people, gird on sackcloth, and roll in ashes; make mourning as for an only son, most bitter lamentation; for suddenly the destroyer will come upon us” (6:26). So, the symbolism of Ash Wednesday is that we are mourning for our sins in preparation for a fresh realization of the price Jesus paid to redeem us. And not only mourning for our sins, but turning away from them in renewed obedience and devotion to God.
Is it necessary to observe Lent? No, it’s not necessary at all. This is an area where we have freedom. We’re not bound by God’s Law to observe this season. Paul said, in Romans 14: “Welcome with open arms fellow believers who don’t see things the way you do. And don’t jump all over them every time they do or say something you don’t agree with--even when it seems that they are strong on opinions but weak in the faith department.... Or, say one person thinks that some days should be set aside as holy and another thinks that each day is pretty much like any other. There are good reasons either way. So, each person is free to follow the convictions of conscience. What’s important in all this is that if you keep a holy day, keep it for God’s sake.... none of us are permitted to insist on our own way in these matters. It’s God we are answerable to--all the way from life to death and everything in between--not each other. That’s why Jesus lived and died and then lived again: so that he could be our Master across the entire range of life and death, and free us from the petty tyrannies of each other” (Romans 14:1-9, The Message). It’s important to know that we are not bound in this area. Many Christians react against the celebration of Lent because, at one time or another, they have been tyrannized by those who don’t see this as an area of freedom.
It’s not necessary to observe Lent, but it can be very helpful. Moses said this to the Israelites: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates” (Deut. 6:4-9). He wants them to be aware of God’s word all the time, to be meditating on it constantly. And he wants them to fill their lives with things that will remind them of God’s word.
There were many things like this in ancient Israel. Places where God had done something special were set apart for worship, and there was usually some sort of monument, as a visual reminder. Many of the Jews of Jesus’ time wore phylacteries, which were strips of parchment with Bible verses on them enclosed in a leather case and strapped to the forehead, just between the eyes. Or some were worn on the left arm, near the elbow. Jesus criticized the Pharisees for making a show out of this by making them large and conspicuous to others, but He didn’t condemn the practice itself. At its best, it was simply a visual reminder. And the nation of Israel went through a yearly cycle of special days, which were set aside to remind them, year after year, of the great things God had done for them. These outward observances weren’t an end in themselves. Moses’ desire was that they “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” But these outward reminders could help them to do that.
Part of the difficulty with Lent is that it has too often taken on a morbid focus. It’s easy for this whole season to become a preparation for Good Friday, rather than a preparation for Easter. We can especially get into trouble if we focus too exclusively on the physical sufferings of Jesus. The Moravians got into trouble for awhile in this area. They were one of the greatest missionary-sending churches in history, and they were exemplary in heartfelt, fearless devotion to the Lord. Some of their missionaries discovered, while preaching to Eskimos, that their hearers were very interested in graphic descriptions of the scourging and crucifixion of Christ. This spread quickly throughout the movement, and soon became “the principle element of Moravian preaching, and some of the preachers learned to depict the Saviour’s sufferings in vivid detail and with tear-compelling effect. They spoke of the lash, the thorns, the nails and the sword-thrust with ecstatic emphasis and unhallowed familiarity” (Arnold Dallimore, George Whitefield, vol. 1, p. 173). Count Zinzindorf, the leader of the movement, described himself as “a poor sinner washed in the blood of the slaughtered Lamb in which I live, and to swim and bathe in Jesus’ blood is my element.” And some of the people “spoke of themselves as ‘little doves flying about in the atmosphere of the cross’, and ‘little fish swimming in the bed of blood’, or ‘little bees who suck on the wounds of Christ’, ‘who feel at home in the side hole, and crawl in deep’” (Ibid., vol. 2, p. 326). The celebration of Lent has often been marred by this kind of morbidity, by an exclusive focus on the physical sufferings of Christ apart from the triumph of the Resurrection. (I need to mention, in passing, that the Moravians only stayed on this tangent for a short period in their history).
Part of the emphasis of Lent is repentance and self-denial. One of the things we want to get from this season is a renewed appreciation for the price Jesus paid for our salvation. But that’s not all. Lent is a time to renew our focus, a time to turn to God in a new way. It’s a time to concentrate in a more intensive way on the things of God. During the Advent season we were reminded anew of Jesus’ coming, and we cultivated a sense of anticipation that He is coming again. But for the past 9 weeks or so we’ve been in what is called Ordinary Time. Maybe we’ve been busy. Maybe the affairs of this world have been weighing us down and drawing our minds away from the things of God. The beginning of Lent presents us with an opportunity to get back on track, to renew our focus. The beatitudes can help give us a more complete picture of what this means.
The heart of the beatitudes is verse 6: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” This beatitude is framed by three which describe the kind of people who hunger and thirst for righteousness (verses 3-5), and three which describe how these people interact with others (verses 7-9). Verse 10 describes how the world responds to people who hunger and thirst after righteousness (and verses 11-12 develop this in more detail).
The beatitudes describe people who hunger and thirst for righteousness. They hunger and thirst for righteousness because they don’t have any righteousness of their own; they’re “poor in spirit.” They say, with the hymn Rock of Ages, “nothing in my hands I bring, simply to the cross I cling; naked come to thee for dress, helpless look to thee for grace; foul I to the fountain fly; wash me Savior or I die.” They accept God’s verdict that “no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law...” (Romans 3:20), and they come before God with empty hands, acknowledging their spiritual poverty and hungering and thirsting for that righteousness which only comes as a gift of grace.
People who see clearly who they are before God, who acknowledge their sinfulness, mourn, as Isaiah did when he saw the Lord. “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple.... ‘Woe to me!’ I cried. ‘I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty’” (Isaiah 6:1-5). Isaiah didn’t talk himself into feeling bad about his sins. He saw himself truly in the light of God’s holiness. This is a genuine godly sorrow that leads us to cry for mercy, like the tax collector, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!”
Those who have been grieved over their sins in this way will be gentle, or meek. This has to do primarily with our attitude toward ourselves. If we’re meek, we’re not constantly watching out for ourselves; we don’t demand the best all the time. We don’t grasp after our rights, as so many in our society are doing. Abraham demonstrated meekness toward his nephew, Lot. They were both wealthy men, and there was increasing conflict between their hired workers, so they decided to separate. Abraham had every right, in that culture, to choose which part of the land he wanted. But instead he gave Lot the first choice. David showed meekness when he twice refused to kill Saul and grasp the kingship for himself (even though he had God’s assurance that he was called to be king).
These all describe a person who is hungering and thirsting after righteousness. And as we hunger for more of God, as we spend time in His presence, these qualities will increasingly be evident in our lives. These first three qualities primarily describe the condition of our hearts. The three beatitudes following verse 6 have more of an outward focus. Those who recognize their spiritual poverty will be merciful toward others. They recognize the wonder of God’s mercy to them, and this overflows in mercy toward others. Those who mourn over their sinfulness find their hearts purified. This was Isaiah’s experience. After he cried out, an angel flew to him with a live coal which he had taken from the altar. “With it he touched my mouth and said, ‘See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for’” (vv. 6-7). And those who are meek, who aren’t grasping the best for themselves and are seeking to live at peace with others, become peacemakers. The last beatitude, verse 10, reminds us that the kind of spirit described here is completely at odds with the world, and those who exemplify this kind of Christlike spirit have repeatedly found that the world hates them, just as it hated Jesus.
These beatitudes describe people who follow Jesus, who hunger and thirst for righteousness. And Lent is a season that’s set aside for renewing our focus, for reorienting ourselves to the things of God. We tend to become lax. We become lethargic spiritually and find that we have little interest in spending time with God. We’re not hungering and thirsting after righteousness. “To hunger” means “to crave ardently, to seek with eager desire.” And to thirst, in this context, means to painfully feel our need of, and to eagerly long for, those things which will refresh, support, and strengthen us spiritually. This all points to an intense desire that results in actions. “People who really desire something with the whole of their being do not sit down, passively waiting for it to come” (Martyn Lloyd-Jones). We often find ourselves, at the beginning of Lent, not hungering and thirsting in this way. And this season presents us with an opportunity to get back on track, to seek God with renewed focus.
How can we make use of this season? I suggest that you both eliminate something from and add something to your daily life over the next several weeks. Try fasting, or denying yourself, in some area during Lent. It can be something very simple. Some people give up TV, or a particular show that they enjoy. Others give up a particular kind of food or a hobby that occupies lots of their time. The point of this fast is not to practice rigorous self-denial. The point is that each time you have a desire for this thing, you will be reminded to think about the sacrifice Jesus made for us. This is not a vigorous fast, but it should be something you’ll desire often enough over the next several weeks to serve as a reminder that Jesus sacrificed all to pay the price for our sins. What happens if you forget? Sometimes we forget, and sometimes we suffer from a failure of will. But this is not sin. We’re not under the Law in this; we’re using this season as an opportunity for spiritual renewal. So don’t get too worked up about failure. Make use of the failure by pausing briefly and meditating on Jesus’ perfect life of obedience and His sacrificial death.
I also suggest that you add something to your usual devotional practices. Do something different from what you normally do, to set the season apart. Maybe make use of a different daily devotional book for the days of Lent, or read a book (or part of a book) that will stir your desire to seek God. Or sing hymns and worship songs that lead up to the themes of Holy Week and Easter. Or read prayerfully one of the gospels. If you have time, you may find it helpful to read it out loud, praying over it and asking God to impress these things on your heart and make them real to you. As you come to the sections on Jesus’ suffering and humiliation, remind yourself that it was because of our sins that He did this. He did it because we are spiritually poor and owed a debt that we could never, in all eternity, pay ourselves.
In celebrating Lent, we are not trying to earn God’s favor. We’re remembering what God has done to grant us His favor. We already know about the events of the gospel. We’re familiar with it all, but we need to keep coming back to these things, meditating on them and allowing them to sink more deeply into our hearts and transform our lives. We live by hours, days, and weeks, so we need to find some practical way of doing this, “whether that means we put our minds to these topics whenever the whim takes us or when our routine Bible reading brings us across them, or according to some system which brings us around to them regularly.... Hence, the liturgical year is nothing more (and nothing less) than the Church’s “walking through” the gospel with the Lord. Since it is a plain fact of our humanness that we are rhythmic creatures who must keep coming back to things that are always true, it is especially good for us to do this in the Church” (Thomas Howard, Evangelical is Not Enough, pp. 132-33).
And do all this in the light of God’s grace. Our purpose is to “walk through the gospel” with the Lord, to prayerfully meditate on what it meant for Jesus to do the things He did, and to prepare ourselves to receive anew the angel’s words: “He is risen!” By setting aside each Sunday, breaking your fast in anticipation, you are looking forward to the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection. And year after year, as we worship our risen Lord, we are looking forward to that day when we will see Him face to face. May He stir us all with a fresh realization of all He has done for us, and all the riches that are ours in Him. “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9).
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