Ash Wednesday

Mennonites, until recent decades, haven’t practiced liturgical seasons.  It’s only been in recent generations that we’ve incorporated the seasons of Lent, Easter, Pentecost, Advent and Epiphany into our worship.

I, for one, really love the rhythm of life that these liturgical seasons offer us.  They connect to the spiritual seasons of life we all go through. In Advent, we wait and anticipate the incarnation, when God sends God’s self to us in human form.  Some years that idea connects with me more than others. Some years the act of incarnation just knocks me over, and other years I struggle to understand it.

The same is true in the season of Lent.  Today we begin the journey to the cross with Jesus.  In truth, we’re on that journey every day, but during the season of Lent we remember that part of the labor we do together.  And, friends, it is sometimes labor. Sometimes the journey of discipleship is hard and confusing, it’s dark and it’s uncertain.

In the season of Lent, the wider church has a practice of giving things up.  Sometimes people give up chocolate or coffee, which may seem like a silly thing to give up for 40 days.  But, think about it, if we give up that thing that we use as a crutch, we have to face the reality that we are dependant creatures.  We depend on things like coffee or chocolate to get us through a rough day. These creature comforts make us feel better. And God calls us back into dependence on God.

It’s a small gesture to give these things up, and giving up these things calls us to remember in our longing that it is God that sustains, feeds, and comforts us. We do not do this on our own.

Last year, Reba and I decided to take the season of Lent to look at the ways we use plastic in our house.  It was really hard–we had to look at everything from our bathroom toiletries to our laundry detergent.  We tried to make this Lenten practice more than an act of piety. Whenever we felt frustrated that we couldn’t get our favorite items anymore, we would take a deep breath and try to remember why we were giving up plastics.  Our practice was to remind us who the giver of life was, who has control. That breath prevented us from becoming militant or perfectionistic in our Lent practice, and helped us focus instead on our intention–to remember that this is about God’s work in (and on) us.

This year, Reba and I decided to double down on this plastic free Lent practice.  We’re going to work on seeing how much more plastic we can eliminate from our lives.  And to be honest, this has me nervous. What more do I have to give up for Lent? Cheese?  Milk? MEAT?! In the weeks leading up to Lent, I had intended to think through some of what this means for our family, but I didn’t have time.  So, we’re jumping into the season today without any preparation. And, once again, more than even eliminating plastics from our lives, we’re preparing to lean on God to meet our needs, not the convenience of cheap, disposable plastics. This practice, I hope will deepen that dependance on God, in this season of discipleship.

So here’s the challenge for you–what can  you give up that will help you get in contact with  your need for God? Or, what can you take on as a daily practice that will help you remember that you are not in control?  I invite you to join me in considering this spiritual practice as a way to connect to our deep need for God in this season of Lent.