The Lent We Need
In times like this, the church needs a Lenten journey into the wilderness of examination.
Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”
Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:
“‘He will command his angels concerning you,
and they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”
Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”
Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”
Matthew 4:1-10
Growing up decades ago in a conservative holiness church, I possessed little awareness of the Christian calendar. Judging from what took place in our Sunday services, I assumed there were three Christian holidays observed by the faithful: Christmas, Easter, and Mother’s Day. Easter was naturally the biggest, but Mother’s Day was not far behind. The rhythms and seasons other churches observed were deemed to be “too Catholic” and unnecessary, perhaps even inappropriate, for Bible-believing, born-again Christians like us. While there are many things I am grateful for and continue to value from the church of my childhood, I do regret the almost dismissive lack of liturgy, sacrament, and recognition of the Christian calendar. Eventually, I came to discover these as formative practices for my journey, companions I wish I had found much earlier. And while I recognize that not everyone’s spiritual path will look the same as mine, I do believe the days and seasons of the Christian year help the body of Christ to retell the story that shapes us, reminding us of who God is and who we are called to be as God’s people.
We have, according to the Christian calendar, entered into the season of Lent, a time of fasting, prayer, and repentance on our pilgrimage toward the celebration of the Resurrection. It mirrors for us Jesus’ Spirit-led journey into the wilderness for 40 days of fasting and prayer, where he also found himself confronted by the tempter. There in the wilderness, separated from the usual elements of life that bring us a sense of comfort and security, Jesus heard the tempter question both his identity and the path to which he was called. The twisted words of temptation promised comfort, applause, and power, a path that would meet his felt needs, use faith to build a platform, and win the world without the pain of sacrifice. Underneath the worldly appeal of these offers was the insidious suggestion that Jesus turn from the call of self-giving love and reject the way of the cross. But in the depths of the wilderness, in the alluring face of temptation, Jesus remained steadfast. He recognized the voice for what it was and remembered who he was.
Recognized and remembered. This is the Lent the church needs at the moment, a journey into the wilderness that confronts the voices that have deceived us, a fasting that awakens us to their malforming power in our lives. We need a Lenten journey that reminds us of who we are to be as the people of God and the cross-shaped path we are called to walk as the followers of Jesus. We desperately need to recognize and remember.
“If you are the Son of God. . .”
In a day when social media algorithms, partisan ideologies, political pundits and power-seekers, media outlets masquerading as news, and cults of personality have seemingly become the most powerful and successful forces in forming our identities and allegiances, we need to recognize and remember.
“Tell these stones to become bread. . .”
In a time of fear and uncertainty, when the lie of scarcity tells us to center our own interest, comfort, and privilege, embracing the empty path of consumption, fighting for what is “ours” to the neglect of the least of these, and seeing the other, the vulnerable, the poor, and the immigrant as threats to our security rather than people to be loved, we need to recognize and remember.
“Throw yourself down. . .”
In a time when faith becomes a brand used to sell our political and personal agendas, when our standards of success revolve more around platforms and celebrity in a religious marketplace than faithfulness in the ordinary, when institutions elevate survival above courage, when promotion, recognition, and results matter more than character, when narcissism is rewarded and the performance that draws a crowd is celebrated more than the formation of disciples, we need to recognize and remember.
“All this I will give you. . .”
In a time when political power and the power of the sword are baptized in the name of mission, when God’s name is taken in vain and attached to the systems of empire, when the greed of the wealthy is called blessing and the need of the poor judged as deserved, when fighting for our “rights” means denying the humanity of others, and when our desire to have power over others outweighs the desire to be a servant of all, we need to recognize and remember.
This is the Lent much of the American church needs, a Spirit-led sojourn into the wilderness to recognize the voice of the tempter for what it is, remember who we are called to be, and repent for our failure to answer with the resolute faithfulness of Jesus. I’m glad that so many, like me, have come to embrace the rhythms of the Christian calendar. It makes my heart happy to see churches who once rejected any acknowledgment of Lent now gathering for worship and reflection on Ash Wednesday. And yet, I also know the Lent we need goes deeper than fasting caffeine or chocolate, or wearing ashes for a few hours. Those ashes must lead us into a genuine experience of the wilderness, a place of humble listening and examination. For the sake of our testimony and witness, we need to recognize, remember, and repent.