Your Lent, Your Way

In a pandemic world, what is the point of something like Lent? Should we keep it around? It feels like many of us have been living our own Lenten reality for the last year. We’ve all given up more than we care to remember. The thought of listening to another voice tell us what we can and cannot do seems off-putting at best, and even offensive.

Perhaps.

But what if a deeper dive into Lent revealed a great diversity of practices that could lead to a startling recovery of the mind body connection? What if the practice of Lent can be tuned to your own bio-diversity? And what if it creates a form of healing empowerment that brings forth new fruits of freedom and passion?

That is the Lent that I am hoping for this year.

It’s not my goal to offer a run down of the history of Lent. But what is important to remember is that the practice of Lent is not monolithic. The archaeological research around Lent is fascinating, and helps us see again that there is no one way to Lent. The practice of early communities ranged from a fast that started in January that led into March, to more intentional practices and teachings that were focused on the coming celebration of the Easter. Tracking the recordings of practice over different parts of the world, two themes emerge: diversity and minimalism.

Forms of minimalism, like fasting and prayer, are making a comeback here in the 21st century. Maybe not prayer as we think of it, but arts like meditation have increased dramatically in this pandemic time. Intermittent fasting has been recovered and re-branded to the tune of IG biohacking. It seems that maybe, just maybe, there was a deep wisdom to the Lenten season, even one that is so old that it can be recorded in the pre-history of indigenous communities. Even the Farmer’s Almanac records the term “Hunger Moon” for February. There is an ancient wisdom to the practice of the minimal.

Institutional religion is very good at taking these kind of indigenous practices, putting order and boundaries around them, and then creating a sort of patent on the practice. The reasons why these “patents” have happened are long and complex — and it is short-sided and irresponsible to say that these choices were all motivated by a desire for cultural control. But the upshot is that eventually Lent became a season that was governed and controlled by the church. It came to mean giving something up (some sort of fasting) in common life, as well as engaging in liturgical fasting (the worship service was different). Lent was reduced to what the church said it was.

Reductions like this create grief, because they take our power away. We no longer discern and search for how our minds and bodies might engage in spiritual practice. We no longer listen for the voice of God. We simply do what we are told. The spiritual mantra of just doing what we are told is short lived. From what I can tell, it barely lasts one generation. Passing on a robust spirituality to the next generation requires the work of human discernment and spiritual listening. It requires the awakening of the individual spirit and the courage to bring that spirit into the universe for direction and discipline. It is both exhilarating and terrifying. Perhaps we allow institutions to hold that power because we are too afraid to hold it ourselves. I certainly can understand that.

But 2021 is the year to take our power back as humans. 2021 is the year to dive deep within and find that it is all right there — all of our deepest fears, and all of our greatest yearnings. Only we have control over whether or not we bring our power to this story of Earth.

Which brings me back to the wonder of the Lenten practice. Lent, of course, is an old Anglo-Saxon word that means “spring”, or “greening.” How do you move from the bare branches of winter to the greening of spring? You find your power. For plants, it is in the seed or the roots. Maybe it is the same for us. Maybe Lent is the invitation to find the seed of what we know ourselves to be. Maybe it is the invitation to draw upon our root systems and trust that they are enough to get us there.

Lent is not a command, but an invitation. Seeds can stay put just fine, and sometimes should, especially if the conditions are not right. But maybe Lent is an opportunity to create the conditions that allow your seed to come to life. Maybe Lent is the way that you can take those seeds off the shelf and place them in the soil so that they can meet water and air, and find their way to life. Maybe Lent is the way that you do that intentionally, with care, hope, and tenderness. Just like with the plant world, all we can do is trust that the season will bear out the possibilities that can spark growth. But there is always an element of risk, and there is always an element of courage.

In 2021, Lent begins on Feb 17th, Ash Wednesday. The day observes that we remember that we are dust. And yet, while we acknowledge that we are tied to mortality, we simultaneously acknowledge that between now and mortality, the stuff of dreams is possible. The dust that makes us is stardust. So, this is the work: between now and Ash Wednesday, listen, really listen to the call of the universe. Who are you? What is your gift? Where is your creative fire? What conditions will allow your seed to unfurl? Make lists. Write down phrases that keep coming back to you. Notice when you cry. Or when you laugh. Write down your dreams. What is keeping you up at night? What is making you just want to go to sleep? All of these moments are the clues to finding the seeds of our creative fire. When we get to know them, we can begin to nurture them to life.

Over the weeks of Lent, I will be offering some guidance in this work. I’m no expert, but I’m ready to be a companion. We’ll focus on listening to our bodies, including specific practices that awaken our consciousness. We’ll focus on nutrition, and learning the patterns that lead us away from our creative fire. We’ll focus on finding our teachers and our tribe, so that we nurture ourselves through community. We’ll focus on creativity, and making space for both action and silence. We’ll go deep so that when summer comes, we can bask in the light and let our fruits come into being. We’ll go from hunger to feast. Your Lent, your way. Decentralized and in your hands. Find your power. Sign up here and join us on February 21st!