Lent didn’t always bring out the best in some of my colleagues in divinity school. The somber season, during which penitence and self-examination are a focus, became a competitive enterprise as one eager divinity student tried to top another in the practice of fasting. One would sit back and talk about the extreme sacrifice of giving up coffee, only to have another dismissively claim that giving up social media was a larger sacrifice. Soon, it seemed others were ready to give up breathing just to top someone else!
The competition amused me so much that I gave Lent a new name, the Spiritual Olympics. Everyone, it seemed, was “going for the gold” for Jesus! I’m sure everyone’s intentions were good, but it seemed as if many were missing the point. Fasting isn’t about winning but is instead about emptying ourselves so that our focus is placed on Jesus, just as Jesus emptied himself on the cross for each of us.
One of the main temptations we sometimes face in Lent is “to get it right.” On Ash Wednesday, we receive our “to-do” list for the season—self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, self-denial, and meditating on Scripture. Then we are off to get it all done, sometimes paying close attention to a few items and not so much to others. We often feel guilty when we don’t do well, and we can have a sense of spiritual superiority when we check everything off the list.
We certainly ought to attend to each of these valuable practices during Lent and encourage others to do so as well, but only after we have carefully studied these words found in Matthew. “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no rewards from your Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:1).
We know this. The purpose of Lenten practices is not to draw attention to us but to increase our awareness of God. We pastors, who spend so much time talking about God, need to be especially attentive during Lent to talk with God, becoming aware of what God is doing in our lives, in the churches we serve, and in the communities in which we live.
What would it mean to give up our striving to “do” so much during Lent? What if leading during this purple-hued season is quietly looking around, receiving the gifts of quiet discernment, and finding a closer relationship with God? Perhaps instead of spiritual superiority, we will find the humility of Christ. Instead of getting the gold medal by competing in a Spiritual Olympics, we will be led to carry a cross.
Peace be with you.


