Lent: Know Your Space

We’re about to embark on the 40-day season of Lent. If ever there was a church season that carried a lot of baggage, it’s this one. This is that time of the year when Christians are called to engage in the traditional disciplines of prayer, fasting, and acts of service. Somehow, we’ve boiled those disciplines down to a matter of “giving something up for Lent.” Popular choices for this annual “fast” include chocolate, caffeine, sweets, or (gasp!) beer. One of the original intentions of the Lenten fast was to enter more fully into the suffering of Christ by denying ourselves certain pleasures in life. Over the centuries, fasting became a form of self-imposed penance. However, I’m really hard-pressed to equate the skipping of dessert with crucifixion. Fasting has its place as a Lenten discipline, but it’s most productive when placed in proper perspective.

L. Paul Jensen has written an interesting book entitled Subversive Spirituality: Transforming Mission  Through the Collapse of Space and Time He makes the case that in today’s affluent, fast-paced, hyper-connected, non-stop world, we are experiencing a collapse of space and time that is ripe for spiritual practices like those encouraged in the season of Lent. Our lives have become increasingly crowded as the traditional boundaries that create both space and time are eroding. For instance, families can co-exist under one roof, and yet through the power of technology, can be experiencing a multitude of different virtual realities or spaces through their computer screens and mobile devices. Space is no longer limited or created by physical boundaries.  The same can be said of time.

When I was growing up, television stations would actually conclude their programming for the day by playing the national anthem and then showing a test pattern until programming resumed in the morning. There was a presumed rhythm to the day that included sleep. Today, there is no presumed rhythm. Television programming runs 24 hours a day, grocery stores are open round the clock, and Taco Bell has its “fourth meal.”  It’s no wonder that highly caffeinated “energy” drinks have become increasingly popular in our sleep-deprived, rhythm-less culture.

I find it interesting to note that in the first creation story in Genesis, God creates space and time by speaking into a dark, watery chaos. Notice the poetic rhythm in the telling of this story. “There was evening and there was morning, the first day.” In order for life to flourish, boundaries establishing space and time had to be created. The spiritual disciplines of Lent, like all spiritual practices, seek to create intentional space and time in our chaotic lives for a life-giving encounter with the Holy Spirit. For instance, weekly worship is a spiritual practice that is part of the rhythm of a 7-day week. In that sacred time, the church community intentionally gathers for an encounter with God in both Word and Sacrament. Throughout the week, many people carve out time each day for intentional prayer and Bible reading. With this in mind, I don’t consider fasting a matter of penance or suffering, but rather an intentional move that creates space and time for an encounter with God by clearing away those things that are preventing that encounter.

Last week, while skiing in Colorado, this sign captured my attention and imagination:

For skiers, this is a safety issue. When you’re coming down the mountain, so are many other skiers from all directions at various speeds and skill levels. Without an awareness of what is going on around you, collisions can and will take place. The result isn’t always so pretty. The same holds true for our lives. There are obligations and desires and needs that are bombarding us from all angles and cluttering our hearts, our minds and our spirits. We’re overly stressed, we’re not well-rested, our health suffers, and so do our relationships with God and one another. Space is essential for life.  Fasting, like all of the Lenten disciplines, offers us an important tool for creating and knowing that all-important space.

This year at Holy Cross, we’re taking this approach to the disciplines of Lent by considering the ways we can create space by de-cluttering our lives. Our lives are cluttered with busyness, possessions, emotional baggage, and unhelpful habits. Our lives can also be cluttered with familiar habits and traditions. In worship, we’re going to use this Lenten opportunity to clear away all of the familiar “stuff” that adorns our chancel area and create an empty space that will not only be startling in its simplicity, but will call us back to the heart of our worship experience where, in the words of Paul, "As often as we eat this bread, and drink this cup, we proclaim the Lord's death until he comes."

It all begins this Wednesday as ashes will be traced on our foreheads in the shape of a cross with the words: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” In a very real and honest way, we’ll come to terms with our need for meaningful space and time with God and one another, and commit to a life-giving rhythm for our days.