Lent: Not Forfeit but Formation...

As a pastor’s kid, I was acutely aware of the church calendar...especially as it related to Advent and Lent. (aka: the times of the year I was going to see my dad the least...) But it’s never left.  So, its one of those things I anticipate still to this day.  I’ve been gearing up for Lent, in some ways, since Christmas. 

Lent officially begins today (Ash Wednesday) in protestant churches and it’s been an extra piece of contemplation for me in the last few weeks.  Much like Advent, is a time of reflection and preparation and so I’ve been preparing to prepare (the idea of “preparing to prepare” makes me giggle a little) for a while now.  Preparing in the last few years have including thinking considerably more about the root and purpose of Lent. 

With an opinion from just about anybody and everybody...I realized that sometimes the most important part of learning about something (or someone for that matter!) includes learning about what it isn’t...

So, what isn’t Lent?  Lent isn’t self mutilation.  It’s not about personal flogging until you are spiritually ready. It isn’t about self deprivation or abuse.  And that gets confusing...because isn’t self deprivation and abuse the point of a Lenten fast or sacrifice? Culture certainly says so!

But it’s not.  Lent isn’t a sacrifice.

I had several conversations during Lent last year (and especially the year before...it’s what got me contemplating to begin with) which caught me by surprise.  Some more than others... 

As a believer, it makes sense that Lent would mean something to me but most have friends and family members and acquaintances without a faith to speak of who will declare their Lenten sacrifices. I will undoubtedly have multiple notifications of facebook status updates reading things like “won’t be back for 40 days! PM for my number to text or call instead” or “don’t know what I’ll do with Mt. Dew ‘til Easter but here it goes!”  A conversation with a Lent-practicing but non-believing friend included the insightful and profound explanation “it’s just what you do”. 

Cultural fasting...interesting but not totally surprising. 

What was surprising were the multiple convos with believers – including a pastor and another who talked to their pastor and another who had the message preached from the pulpit from their pastor...who believed Lenten fasting wasn’t biblical.  Their responses were almost identical: “It’s misguided!  To believe you could sacrifice for 40 days as a part of sharing in Christ’s sacrifice is ludicrous!  I don’t fast because such a mindset is to grossly undercut the sacrifice Christ made.” 

The basic tenants I don’t disagree with...but it does show a gross misunderstanding of Lent.  We are told by Paul several times to share in the sufferings of Christ...most often connected to persecution for the sake of the gospel...but even those he personally cast aside as being meaningless in light of Jesus.  It seems entirely unlikely that Early Church Fathers would have supported a “40 day trial run” of sharing in Christ’s suffering.  And in fact they didn’t.  Why? Because Lent isn’t a sacrifice.  Sacrifice, or rather, fasting is a part of Lent... But it is also not the purpose.   

The purpose of lent isn’t forfeiting things...it’s about spiritual formation.

But, Lent also isn’t about a purge which makes one somehow holier and therefore “good-enough” for Easter...(which is another thing I’ve heard about Lent).  As if yesterday, happily known by believer and unbeliever alike as “Fat Tuesday” could empty us of all of our wrong and forty days of holiness could some how win us God’s favor.  This makes God out to be a domineering vending machine...Like if we push the right buttons, God’s favor will be unleashed instead of the gift given out of pure grace.  Romans 5:8 tells us that while we were yet sinners, Christ died...meaning at the height of humanity’s shortcomings, we were offered redemption.  Forty days is never going to be long enough to repay or earn salvation...because a lifetime won’t be.  It’s the height of the beauty of grace.

So what is lent?  Well “Lent” oft refers to “40” in its root in many languages but literally is an anglo saxon word meaning “spring”.  Lent is about life.  And furthermore true life that is available through Christ. 

Officially? The “encyclopedia” version would say something like:

Traditionally, in the protestant church (I make this distinction because Catholic and Orthodox traditions have some different practices), Lent is the 40 days - sans Sundays - leading up to Easter.  Sundays are left out as each is supposed to represent a mini Easter and therefore be a day of celebration.  The 40 days are symbolic to the 40 days Jesus spent being tempted in the wilderness before he was made ready for ministry.  In the same way Lent is supposed to represent our own temptation in a spiritual wilderness, a state of fasting and simplicity in preparation. 

As it has been since the beginning...original Lenten practices dating back to the time of the Nicean creed so 300’s AD...the overall purpose is literally spiritual formation.  In that we allow ourselves to be formed by the Spirit for His purposes.  Every part of Lent, including fasting, is in hopes of taking our attention off of ourselves and our desires and putting them on Christ.  I don’t know if there is a better verse than Hebrews 12:2  “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus...the maker and perfector of our faith”.

Furthermore, while we think of Lent as being a time of fasting (which we’ve already discussed – it’s not in and of itself)...it is actually six things: fasting, praying, almsgiving, thankfulness, service, and scriptural reflection.  Fasting, praying, and almsgiving were considered noncompromiseable in the early church and the fasts, especially, were very strict. 

While I didn’t find any research on it, my guess is that fasting stuck out as the height of Lenten practices because it is most unlike the other five and most unlike day to day.  Many see Lenten fasting as an act of penitence...an act of repentance.  And in many ways it is. 

True fasting isn’t about what or how the sacrifice is made but what takes its spot.  Not forfeit but formation.  Fix your eyes on Jesus... 

Choosing to fast should not be based on what others decide or don’t decide to do or their motives behind it.  It shouldn’t be a whim, a diet plan, or easy.  Me giving up dairy for Lent because I’m lactose intolerant is like my mother giving up peppermint...because she hates it and therefore will never have to worry about failing.  I think choosing to fast should come with the fear of failing. Fasting should be hard...in such a way that it will force us to place dependence in some area of our lives back where it already belongs – on Christ.  The act of “missing it” will force thought to go to the commitment, force one to think of Lent, cause one to think of the preparation to acknowledge Christ’s gift to us and accept that grace fresh and anew day after day after day.  Fasting isn’t suffering – it’s finding ourselves empty and so able to be filled by Christ. 

I have been challenged (and would also challenge you) to also look at the other five tenants of Lent: praying, almsgiving, thankfulness, service, and scriptural reflection.  I think it gives us room and opportunity to be creative. I once read a quick post which split each of the six into weeks: one a week for each of the six weeks of Lent.  Maybe this is worth emulating and so finding ways to incorporate them all little bits at a time.  Or perhaps a couple could be chosen to focus on for forty days.  After all, studies show it takes between 21 and 30 days to create a habit.  Make Lent about thankfulness and service (fore example) and it might be enough to make a life about them...

So make Lent about fasting and finding yourself with palms up looking to receive what God puts in to empty hands. 

Make Lent also about prayer: make time in your days to pray, incorporate it into the things you do and the thoughts you conjure as you go about the day. 

Make Lent about scripture...be intentional in seeking God through His word, allow His word to challenge and convict and to comfort and to guide. 

Make Lent about giving...use the unique gifts God has given you to serve others and therefore to honor him...giving doesn’t always have to be monetary. 

Make Lent about service...think critically about how your actions value others and follow a Philippians 2 model of humility and service to make that value known and true. 

And make Lent about thanksgiving...thank God for his grace and his goodness...intentionally seek out and thank someone who has expressed God’s goodness to you.   

(Check out what Jesus has to say about how to go about practicing these tenants years before Lent would be considered in Matthew 6:1-21...)

 

And in all...put God first.  Make it about Him and not about you or about what others think.  And if you fail or miss a day or forget...start again.  My experience tells me God’s grace often waits at about the same place I fell.  Regardless of what Lent means to you or what you decide to commit to in Lent...put your treasure somewhere your heart will follow... 

Laundered Rags, Really?

My mom washes rags.

Like “cleaned the whole kitchen and then wiped up a mild mudslide” rags.

We’re not talking expensive or meaningful rags.  These aren’t sham-wow’s or those things that can absorb a whole bucket of water (wait, are those sham-wows??) or the ones that polish the stains off of silver and re-varnish wood tables.

These are old socks...which sprouted holes and were filleted to serve a new purpose.

These are the remnants of t-shirts...the fronts of which were turned into a t-shirt quilt...

These are towels...which covered you – sort of – (if you were open to unfortunate peep shows), that were cut into squares.

These are (unfortunately) underwear from, well, no one wants to know.  Admittedly this is no longer really true but oft was when I was a child.  It doesn’t seem so long ago we retired the “rag” with the Mickey Mouse print...

I should also note that we have no shortage of rags.  We could clean up several mild mudslides. They aren’t a rare commodity...

And my mom, she uses them. She abuses them.  Like when you find one, you don’t question where all it’s been.  It could be an X-file episode with a warning label.

And afterwards? She washes them.

Takes ‘em, tosses ‘em in with a load of whites, bleaches the snot out of that poor rag (which vaguely remembers being a sock in some previous life), and it shows up somewhere else a few days later.  Faithful rags...

  

You wanna know what I do with rags?

I commit them to a task. I take one rag (typically one the 19 formed from some t-shirt) and I give it a mission. Say “the bathroom”.  I grab my cleaner.  And then I wipe down the counter and the sink. Then I wipe out the bathtub. Then, after scrubbing out the inside of the toilet with a brush, I wipe down the rest of it with my rag. 

And after? When this rag has spent its last repurposed moment with a bleach laden toilet bowl?

I throw it away.  I throw it. Away. I throw it. In the garbage. With tissues and hairballs and dental floss. And then I take the trash out of the bathroom.

Call me crazy, (it’s been done before...you wouldn’t be the first nor would you be the last), but no part of me wants to take that rag which has seen the nastiness of potentially all nastiness and just toss it in with some towels and socks and whatever. I can’t do it.

  

Now, I come from a very proud Dutch heritage.  I can claim with some degree of certainty that in this melting pot called America that I am 100% Dutch*.  If you know someone this Dutch you probably know a few things about my kindred.  The Dutch are notoriously stubborn and notoriously proud... “you can always tell a Dutchman but you can’t tell him much!”...and notoriously frugal... “have you ever heard how copper wire was invented? Two Dutchmen fighting over a penny!” (But for real...where did you think the phrase “going Dutch” came from?)

Now, I did use the word “frugal” and not the similar but different word “stingy”.  I suppose I can’t speak for all of us, but I have found most to be extraordinarily generous and giving...but where there is a penny to be saved? There is definitely a penny to be earned!  You use things until they die and then you repurpose them and use it again!  We routinely washed Ziploc bags and left them open to dry overnight when I was young.  When we had to rebuild part of grandpa’s greenhouses after a tornado? We salvaged and drilled back in many old screws.  And cool whip containers? Oh...don’t get me started on cool whip containers! 

Making rags out of old socks is a given. (It is practically genetic!)  And washing them is merely the natural outsourcing of the “use it till it’s dead!” lifestyle.

I am a stubborn, proud, (and pretty frugal!) Dutch woman.  I try to do too much on my own. I do things people tell me I can’t do just to prove to them I can.  I don’t back down from something I believe in.  I am a thrifty shopper and a champion budgeter.  However, I do not and will not wash rags.  It will not happen. Ever.

This long narrative?

First...I love stories.  And story telling. I’ve come to accept this and I find no reason to apologize.

Second...when switching out the laundry I found three of the afore mentioned washed rags (and promptly shook my head with deep sigh)

Third...I was reading the other day in Isaiah.  Specifically Isaiah 64.  Specifically verse 6.  “All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags...”

Filthy rags.

Mudslide rags.

Toilet rags.

Actually pretty literally.  Forgive the “oh gross!” factor (if you feel like you need the warning) but most biblical scholars will point to the connection of “ceremonial un-cleanliness”; those who translate out of the original Hebrew (which I can’t do so I take their word for it) assert its literal translation is “menstrual rag”. 

Menstrual being "a woman’s period".  Rag being “thing to sop up said period”.

This poem given in Isaiah 64 speaking of God’s greatness and humanity’s, (specifically God’s chosen people, Israel – to whom we have been grafted in), depravity creates a staggering contrast. Here is God – before whom the mountains tremble and twigs blaze and water boils and nations quake and then there are His people. His people whose most righteous acts, the best of who we are, are menstrual rags.  Used tampons.  Soiled maxi pad (or “Always with Wings” – take your pick). 

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been called some pretty terrible things in my life.  Creative, terrible things even (not all bullies are as stupid as they look!). But I don’t recall ever being called a dirty tampon.  I’m a chick.  I’ve been around this block more than a few times and explained the “magic of womanhood” to more than a few terrified sixth graders. Still, there is something incredibly disgusting about being called a dirty tampon. 

Culture has come a long way in normalizing this very normal occurrence (I used to say things to my campers like “the good news is...only like 40 or 50 more years!”).  And when I say “a long way” I am saying that what I view as both normal and pretty fantastically gross was the height of insult in Isaiah. 

Ya wanna know why? Blood.

Blood was ceremonially unclean.  According the Levitcal law (Check out Leviticus 15), anyone who touched a woman on her period was unclean.  Anything she sat on or touched was unclean.  Anyone who touched something she touched was unclean.  And after the bleeding stopped? Count off seven days...then you can be clean.  Cleanliness was far more than a social issue.  It was a God issue.  Being unclean kept people away from God. Clearly this oversimplifies the bigger picture but it gives an idea of what’s going on in Isaiah. 

Isaiah is literally saying: “what you think is getting you closer to God is doing the exact opposite, it’s revolting.” And, as Isaiah continues, their fate is sealed...shrivel like a leaf, swept away by sin, made to waste away... 

Those toilet rags were as good as mine...trashed!

There was this moment of self-triumph when I thought I had biblical evidence for my rag disposal...

It was short lived.

Short lived because if this is reality, it is also my fate.  Or should be...

Except the book of Isaiah, much like the narrative of scripture as a whole, is about more than Israel’s shortcomings. It’s about God’s love, God’s mercy, God’s grace, God’s faithfulness to an unfaithful people, God’s salvation for an unworthy people. 

Ultimately God does what only my mom has dared to do since – He washes those rags.  1 John promises that God cleanses from the unrighteousness. He makes clean what before was the epitome of unrighteousness.  He takes toilet rags – something no one should go near even if they wanted to, something without Christ He had to be separate from – and washes them. Repurposes again and again and again...Repurposes for His purposes...

Lent is approaching and so this reality brings me ever closer to my knees – and on more than one occasion – to tears.  I can see myself as a dirty rag.  I know the height of my unworthiness...and putting up next to God’s righteousness?  The distance separating is staggering. But so is His love for me.  I have a sense of what God’s redeeming from...

My brain took it a step further though.  It always does. 

See...I realize I am a washed a redeemed dirty rag (I don’t mean to be a heretic, I’m aware Jesus was Jewish, I just think He would make a good Dutch man...just staying).  But I am also the one who all too easily throws away dirty rags.  One mission, remember?  Sometimes I think I do that with people too...

I see where God has washed and redeemed me...but I forget He is always and still in the process of redeeming. 

Not just me but others.  Not just the others I like...but especially the ones I don’t.  Especially the ones who make me angry. Who hurt me.  Who, worse, hurt those who are important to me.  The ones who do stupid things and make bad decisions and I shake my fist at the pictures on the news. The ones who endanger the world, the innocent, the defenseless. The ones that make me growl as I mentally curse the parents of students whom I love but I know aren’t the parents they need to be (as their kids tell me through tears and hugs and nonchalant “yeah the police were at my house again...” comments). 

Jesus and I have been talking a lot about forgiveness in the last year.  I’ve had to come to this point of realization where I know forgiveness is important and necessary for those who have wronged me but I forget that a) I have to forgive those people who haven’t directly wronged me but whom I still hold accountable and that b) forgiveness is oft WAY bigger than me – I have to give it and them to God to forgive and c) God forgives those who acknowledge sin (flashback to 1 John...) AND d) God is in the practice of washing dirty rags.  God is in the practice of redeeming the ones I am ready to throw away... 

The moral of the story? I could take some lessons from my mom.  Maybe wash a dirty rag from time to time...  If for no other reason than maybe it would remind me to be more like Jesus.  To be more dedicated to the process of redemption...

*I’m secretly compelled by and terrified of those Ancestry.com commercials where the one guy finds out he’s not German.  I think it would be fascinating to have my DNA tested but am afraid that it is going to reveal that somewhere way way back there was a single lonely strain of Russian or something and so I’m only 98% Dutch.  I want to know...but I don’t want to know.  I want to live in my pureblood pride as long as I can...