More on Lent, from The Good of Giving Up by Aaron Damiani
Into the Wilderness
We are not ready for Easter. Not emotionally, not spiritually.
But we always seem to be ready for the trappings of Easter…
The attempts at celebration were often awkward. Easter Sunday is a victory feast, but in many churches it feels like a company picnic where everyone is expected to show up and be happy.
When Jesus Christ rose from the dead, history itself took a surprising, climactic turn. Even the people who had been preparing themselves for the reign of God could hardly believe it. To paraphrase Samwise Gamgee, Frodo's faithful companion in The Lord of the Rings, this meant that everything sad was coming untrue. Death itself had been turned on itself. Satan and his demons had run into the mousetrap of the cross, forfeiting their threats. And our Hero was making good on all His promises, sending His Spirit to renew the face of the earth, giving gifts as He ascended to His rightful throne.
It is the birthright of every Christian and gospel-proclaiming church to celebrate, feast, and exult in Jesus Christ on Easter Sunday. We are invited to participate in the stirring worship depicted in Revelation 4-5, giving honor and thanks with a loud voice to the Lion of the tribe of Judah. Every Sunday - and especially on Easter Sunday - we can overflow with hope every time we look upon Him whom we have pierced. He is not only seated on the throne, but is also healing our marriages, breaking our addictions, and uniting races and cultures into one family.
Christ has died! Christ is risen! Christ will come again! It is all true, gloriously so. Why, then, do we still feel awkward and halfhearted on Easter Sunday? In many cases, it's because our imaginations have been malnourished along the way to Resurrection Sunday. We have been secretly snacking on lesser stories - such as politics or our children's athletic success. In theory the gospel is compelling, but in reality we would rather pay attention to whatever Netflix is offering. We are so full on the junk food of our culture that we cannot metabolized the feast on our Easter plates.
Augustine had a phrase for this: incurvatus in se, meaning "curved in on oneself." We were made to look upward and outward with our imaginations to behold the beauty of God in Christ. But like a Grand Canyon tourist who would rather look downward at his Instagram rather than outward at the breathtaking vistas in front of hi, we have curved in on ourselves. We are called to worship, but we have chosen to fantasize. We have exchanged God's exhilarating and expansive story for lesser stories shaped by our fears, pain, and unhealthy desires.
The truth is that well before Easter, Jesus can wash, prepare, and fill our imaginations for worship. And this is where the practice of Lent comes in.
Walking with Jesus to the Cross
Walking the footsteps of Jesus allows [us] to tangibly inhabit His life and ministry. You can breathe the air of Bethlehem, be baptized in the Jordan River, and get your feet dusty on the road to Golgotha.
Can you imagine taking a "Holy Land" pilgrimage every year in anticipation of Easter? This is the journey of Lent. Lent is an ancient pilgrimage that the Lord uses to recapture our imagination of and renew our participation in the greatest story every told.
I doubt any Holy Land tour would take you to the wilderness for forty days. But perhaps they should. The desert is where God called His people to make them holy. We might assume that the wilderness is a place of exile and isolation, and it certainly can be that. But in the story of redemption, the wilderness has always been a sacred rendezvous spot for God and His beloved sons and daughter. In the wilderness, we detox from our false attachments and renew our sacred, primal bond with our loving Father.
When God calls His people into the wilderness, He puts their whole existence on airplane mode. I resist this, and so might you. It means feeling out of control and out of the loop. Our go-to stimulants and stories are no longer on tap. We can no longer anesthetize our emotions. We can no longer avoid a conversation with our Father. It might feel like a restrictive punishment, but it's actually a heavenly gift. Lent is indeed a wilderness, and there are several reasons why we can and should enter it.
We enter the wilderness of Lent because the gospel is true. We do not go into the wilderness to find God. We enter the wilderness because God has found us. He has delivered us, blessed us, and called us His own. The desolation and quiet gives us space to ponder the great salvation we have already witnessed. Even our struggles and failures in the wilderness teach us the truth of the gospel.
Consider the people of Israel. They journeyed into the wilderness after watching their oppressors drown in the Red Sea by the hand of God. Exodus details the song of praise that carried them out of Egypt: "The Lord is my strength and my song, and He has become by salvation…. Pharaoh's chariots and his host He cast into the sea" (Ex. 15:2, 4).
The wilderness was not where Israel earned their salvation. It is where they internalized what it meant to be saved. In a desolate place, salvation came that shattered the earth. Bread fell from heaven; water gushed from a rock. The multitudes were fed by faith and with thanksgiving. The Living Word was in their midst, working beautiful and wild miracles, changing slaves into sons. With each nourishing meal, the tyranny and pretense of Egypt lost its grip. It took Israel forty years to realize they were the Lord's treasured possession, not Pharaoh's unworthy slaves.
Consider Jesus, true Israel. He entered the wilderness with His Father's baptismal endorsement ringing in His ears: "You are My beloved Son; with You I am well pleased" (Luke 3:22). Unlike Israel, and us, He had no false attachments of which to repent. His forty-day fast made space for Him to bask in His Father's love and to draw upon the Spirit's power. When the devil tempted Him with fantasies of dazzling self-love and godless power, Jesus was ready. He shut down the demonic chatter with the Word of God, which lived inside Him.
In the Lenten wilderness, our fantasies of glory, fear, or pleasure can give way to the reality of God's glory, love, and holiness. God acts in history, and we enter the wilderness to give our imaginations a chance to catch up.
We enter the wilderness of Lent to prepare for Easter. Why is Lent forty days? Practically speaking, it takes at least that long to prepare our hearts for Easter. As Dallas Willard put it, "One drop of water every five minutes won't get you a shower." We need to be immersed in the reality of the kingdom of God for big doses of time before we start seeing its impact on our lives. The same is true for Easter Sunday - and the "Eastertide" Sundays that follow. We need more than a Good Friday service two days in advance to get into the state of mind and heart to celebrate Jesus' victory over death and hell. We cannot prepare for Easter over the weekend. No, we need to walk a longer pilgrimage to get ready.
Most importantly, the forty days draw us into the gospel drama that Jesus lived. He went into the wilderness before us, and He goes there again with us. He knows that the struggle is real, that our frame is weak, and that we are dust. Because we are united to Him, His forty days become ours.
We enter the wilderness to get to the Promised Land. Lent is not our ultimate destination. The wilderness fast is temporary, thanks be to God! The bright light of the resurrection is ahead. Can you see it? In fact, the word Lent derives from the old Saxon word for "spring," and Christians of Eastern traditions love to refer to the "Bright Sadness" that marks every Christian who will endure the darkness leading up to Easter.
In the Lenten Spring, winter is giving way to summer - life and sunrise and a great feast are ahead. Each day's light is longer than the last. Lent, then, is a profound picture of the Christian journey. It stands between our deliverance and our home. It is a time of faith and longing, hope and expectation.
No, we are not ready for Easter. Not yet. But with the world behind us and the cross before us, we go repenting and rejoicing one faltering step at a time. And everything sad is coming untrue.
The Practices of Lent: Fasting, Prayer, & Generosity
Binding Ourselves to Christ
The pastor-theologians of the church faced conditions like these in the first few centuries after Jesus' life and passion. And this is the environment out of which the practice of Lent emerged. Early church leaders called their people to devote themselves to a regular season of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving to form themselves as more mature Christians. This season later became known as Lent, but in the meantime it was simply a gentle harness that yoked the fledgling church to Jesus Christ.
Fasting is a willing abstention from eating food, and some drinks, to make space in our souls to feast on Jesus. In short, fasting is "hunger for God, concretized. For many people, this is the most painful and powerful part of Lent.
Prayer is participating in the life of God, talking with and listening to Him, whether in solitude or communal worship. Christians pray using the Scriptures, especially the Psalms. In Lent, our prayers take on a tone of repentance and contrition.
Almsgiving is a direct participation in God's generosity as we give away our resources in love to our neighbor.
When the Christian church weaves fasting, prayer, and almsgiving together over a period of several weeks, individuals, families, and communities are impacted powerfully. These practices strengthened the ancient church in at least four areas.
Spiritual growth. Seasons of prayer and fasting allowed our spiritual forebears to participate in their union with Jesus, who Himself fasted as He sought refuge in His Father's love (Matt. 4:2). Jesus assumed that His followers would fast after He returned to the Father: "The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast" (Matt. 9:15). Prayer and fasting were practical ways for the early church to receive Jesus' strength in their weakness.
Discipleship. Pagan converts to Jesus needed to cultivate new habits to support their walk with Christ. Fasting, prayer, and generosity over a period of time promoted spiritual reformation. Along the way, they received pastoral support in the form of prayer, fellowship, confession, and Bible teaching. In addition to forming new converts, this process helped to weed out informants.
Generosity. The early church took on responsibility for those marginalized by the Roman Empire, including abandoned babies, widows, lepers, and victims of plague. The practice of generosity, or almsgiving, made this sustainable. And when the early Christians fasted from food, they had more resources to give away.
Discernment. After persecution began to wane, many people who renounced Christ and betrayed their friends and family sought reentry into the church. Periods of fasting and prayer were integral to determining how and when to welcome apostates back into fellowship. Requiring the lapsed to fast, pray, and give generously helped to weed out the insincere.
In short, Lenten practices were a loving and pastoral response to the needs of a congregation. And they still are, provided that we practice them in the right spirit.
Enrolling in Christ's School
While specific practices of each "school of Lent" were slightly different, they all shared the same rich gospel curriculum of humble repentance, spiritual renewal, and holy preparation for the mission of the church in the world. The early Christians were learning how to put their besetting sins to death ("mortification") and to experience new life in union with Christ ("vivification").
We are not justified by fasting, prayer, and generosity. Nor are we justified by expository preaching, social justice, or reciting the Sinner's Prayer correctly. We are justified by grace through faith. Thanks be to God! There is a place for Lent and its disciplines, so long as we don't see them as means for a hunger strike.
If you look carefully [at our history], you'll see our spiritual ancestors trampling on others, specifically the poor, to get what they wanted. Jacob is taking Esau's blessing to get ahead. Judah and his brothers are selling Joseph for some cash. The Israelites of Judges 21 are ambushing foreign dancers to make them their wives. King David is using his power to bed Bathsheba and kill her husband, Uriah. The wealthy Corinthian church members are indulging while the less-wealthy members go hungry. When we give way to excess, injustice follows close behind.
Some of us are suspicious of Lent because choosing hunger seems like senseless self-injury. "We're free in the gospel!" some say. "God doesn't need our fasting!" Yes and amen. But beware: the ambient culture has confused the meaning of freedom, which no doubt affects the way many of us understand it.
In the Scriptures, Jesus is the Lord who sets us free to love God and neighbor. Fasting helps us participate in that freedom. But in the modern West, pleasure is the "lord" who is said to set us free to consume our neighbor - and God, for that matter.
Here in the desert, Jesus sits at the table set for Him by His Father. His head is anointed with oil, and His countenance is bright. Though He's fasting from physical nourishment, He's feasting on His Father's love. He masters His physical appetite and metabolizes the bread, which is not bread. Like the poet of Psalm 23, Jesus is surrounded by enemies, wild animals, and Satan himself. But He's filled with the Word of God. The Holy Spirit leads Him, and angels minister to Him. This table is nothing less than heaven breaking into earth.
In His scene, Jesus does not simply feast on God. He is a feast for hungry people. He is the Bread of Heaven, broken for the life of the world. All who eat of Him will never hunger, and all who drink of Him will never thirst (John 6:35). Above this mural reads an invitation from the prophet Isaiah:
Come, everyone who thirsts,
come to the waters;
and he who has no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without price. (Isa. 55:1)
…Jesus is helping them unlearn the lie that God demands our merit, or that God is a magic vending machine. The Lord is their Shepherd, and they shall not want.
As this fellowship fills up on God's generosity, it begins to overflow from them to others. Compassion for the poor and the persecuted naturally follow. Justice rolls down like water. The resources of the fellowship are directed outward to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and care for the sick. Slaves are becoming sons, broken people are getting healed, and those who had been debased are made holy unto the Lord. The gathering is marked by repentance, salvation, and freedom. Every appetite is eventually set in order.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfector of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated on the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:1-3)
A cloud of witnesses invites us to feast on Jesus through fasting, prayer, and generosity. Along with Jesus, they are cheering for us to sit at the table. To do so many mean that we lay aside some comfortable hindrances, that we say goodbye to a few attachments. "Good riddance. I want a seat next to Jesus at the table!" This is what I'm called to. And so are you.
When we practice Lent in the spirit of Jesus, it's not about making God happy, looking spiritual, or repeating empty traditions. It's not a power move or a forced march. Jesus and the cloud of witnesses show us that Lent is about Jesus - and, therefore, about love. The Holy Spirit uses fasting, prayer, and generosity to satisfy us with God's fatherly love. As a result, we are moved to share that love with others. And that is history worth repeating.
New York City pastor Tim Keller sums up the gospel this way: "We are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope." When we confess our sin and receive forgiveness, we experience both sides of the gospel. The light of Christ reveals our brokenness and belovedness at the same time, healing us in the process.
Aaron Damiani has entire chapters devoted to each of these practices in his book, The Good of Giving Up: Discovering the Freedom of Lent, if you would like more information about how to practice fasting, prayer, and generosity this Lent.
Lectio Divinia
The Origins, Benefits, & Practice of Lectio Divina
The practice of Lectio Divina is translated into English as Divine Reading, or Holy or Sacred Reading. It is an ancient method of slowly, rhythmically reading short passages of Scripture in order to encounter the presence of God, listen to His Voice, and give our human brains and hearts a genuine opportunity to absorb and internalize the Word of God as our Creator designed them to.
Throughout this whole practice, our goal is to draw near to God and hear His voice, that we might worship Him and have a deeper relationship with Him. God desires to speak to us. He desires our time and attention. He desires communion, presence and communication, with us.
There are several variation of this practice, but we're going to focus on the most common and simplest form, its origins, its benefits, and finally the practice itself.
The Origins of Lectio Divina
While it is strictly a Christian practice, it has roots in ancient Jewish tradition; this is largely because of how the Bible is written and, again, how human beings are wired. The Bible is meant to be mediated upon, not read quickly. It is meant for slow, careful, thoughtful reading that engages us on a personal level, where we savour the Word of God, wrestle with it, internalize it, let it permeate our minds, hearts, and lives.
The term 'divine reading', in the Greek theia anagnosis, dates back to Origen, who was one of the Early Church Fathers, or one of the theologians and pastors/teachers in the Church who helped clarify and defend the core beliefs of the Christian faith. Then Benedict of Nursia, who lived 480-547 AD and started the Benedictine order of monks, he also required this kind of daily prayer with Scripture. We have received this practice through none other than Martin Luther himself, who lived 1483-1546, and he suggested we read Scripture with a 'four stranded garland' in mind, with each ribbon representing a way of listening to the Scripture: those four strands being instruction, thanksgiving, confession, and guidance. This is a spiritual practice that is shared by the vast majority of Christian denominations worldwide and throughout church history, and for good reason.
There are practices in other religions similar to Lectio Divina; often a criticism of Lectio is a form where a person repeats a word or phrase that stands out to them over and over and puts themselves into a kind of trance, almost like a mantra and trying to empty oneself like in some forms of Eastern meditation.
Lectio Divina as the Christian practice of meditation is not like this; it's about being mindful and focused on God and His Word not emptied and in an altered state of mind. I also think that one of the reasons we see rhythmic and repetitive meditation practices in other religions is because Christians aren't the only ones who have realised how human beings think and work best; we all run up against that reality of being created human beings, and so of course others are going to figure out oh, this works with people really well.
In case you have reservations about this practice, as I did, it is not about turning our mind off and just having an emotional experience. This is not a pseudo-spiritual way to indulge our imagination and emotions, but rather Lectio Divina is about attentively and prayerfully reading and listening to the Word of God in a way that engages our whole being, and not only our mind. So we can meditate well on the Word of God and let it enter into our heart as much as our heads. So that we might listen for what the passage means to us. So it may transform us. We are not excluding the mind, we are including the rest of our being. And above all, we seek to draw closer to God.
Pastor Matt Moore writes, "Lectio Divina is not dangerous. It's trusting…. We trust that God means what He says in His Word, that it is living and active, that the Holy Spirit will guide us into all truth, that the sheep will know the Voice of their Shepherd." It helps us move from being merely informed by the text to being formed by the Word of God. This is a way for us to submit ourselves to the Word of God, to listen and pray and then live it out as God is calling us to, and, as we will see, we do so from a place of rest in the grace of God. As Pastor Moore puts it, "It is not about interpreting the text; it's about the text interpreting me."
This is not going to be truth different from the objective truth of the Scriptures, but perhaps there is something that the Holy Spirit wants to speak to your heart. Perhaps there is some conviction He is bringing. Perhaps you are being called to a place of worship. Perhaps a word of encouragement. Perhaps God is revealing something of Himself to you and wants you to just sit with Him a while and let that settle into your bones.
The Five Steps, or Stages, of Lectio Divina
Preparatio, or Preparation (take time to slow down & focus)
• Prepare a space that is comfortable for you, without distractions, maybe lighting candles, incense, turning on soft music, whatever atmosphere fosters calm, peace, and focus for you.
• We come to the Scripture with a desire to be in relationship with God, therefore we start with silence (Silencio), turning our thoughts and desires over to God. You can also sing a hymn, read a psalm, or of course pray.
• Pray something as simple as, 'Lord, speak to me through Your Word and form me into the image of Your Son.'
• Ezra 7:10
• Matthew 6:6
• Mark 1:35
Lectio: Reading (first reading)
• read the passage slowly, with reverence and expectance, at least twice (Benedectine tradition is to read the passage 4 times);
○ Ez. 3:1-10, Son of Man, take this book…. Eat it! It will become honey in your mouth…. Ezekiel, open up your heart and your hears to my words and memorize them!
• Notice what stands out to you, what questions you have, what connects with your heart; and go slowly enough you can savour each word and phrase; this is the Word of God who loves you, created you, and died for you, so you could have a relationship with Him
○ Read the passage until you find something that resonates, attracts, or even disturbs you:
○ We are not only there to listen, but to actively engage with the text personally, to struggle with it like Jacob with the angel in Genesis 32
○ Read the passage slowly to yourself, and out loud, over and over. Pay attention to where you feel apprehended by the text: where God seems to be reading you. We are trusting that the Holy Spirit knows us well and wants to speak to us and wants to form us in the image of Jesus
• And we know that God hears us when we pray and gives good gifts to His children, that He wants us to conform to the image of Christ.
• Heb 4:12
• Ps 119:18, 24
• Ps 119: 57-59
• Matt 4:4
Meditatio: Meditation (second reading)
• Sit in silence with the passage; if your thoughts wander, come back to what stood out to you and just gently call your attention back. Consider how it connects to your life today.
• This is conversational prayer, talking with Jesus. It is also thoughtful - meditating on Scripture lets us be filled up with and centered in the Word of God, not emptied.
○ You think about what you have read, and especially what stood out to you. Let it sink in slowly and deeply until you are resting in it. Listen for what God is saying to you at this moment in your life, what it may be offering to you, what it may be demanding of you.
• We are listening and receiving the meaning of the text, not assigning one; not about what we want the Holy Spirit to say to us, but what He's actually saying to us. Which means, don't push yourself to find some meaning here or try really, really hard to hear the Voice of God. This is not about striving, but receiving. Sit with it and wait on God, and have patience with yourself as you practice.
○ If you feel like you're getting nothing but radio silence, pray about that. You can also start asking questions like: What does this tell me about God and how can I praise Him? What does this tell me I should be doing, and how do I compare to God's standard? Is there an opportunity here to confess and lean into the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, or rejoice in what the Holy Spirit is already doing in me? And always remember that God is waiting for you in His Word and is delighted when you spend time with Him.
• Psalm 62:5
• John 16:13
• Phil 4:8
• 2 Tim 3:16-17
Oratio: Prayer (third reading)
• Finally, we read the text one more time and remain silent again. Here, we can write or silently pray because we're doing this as a group. We pray as a response to Jesus, who visited us through the Scriptures.
• One author writes, "Fall deeply into prayer. Be honest with God about your feelings. Write about how God is present to you now. Respond to His grace based on what He has said in His Word."
○ Respond to conviction; ask for what God has promised; praise God for who He is; however the passage has moved your heart, respond to your God.
• 1 John 5:14-15
• James 5:13
• Psalm 141:1-2
Contemplatio: Contemplation (fourth reading)
• Simply sit in silence. Do nothing. Rest silently in the presence of God. You need do nothing except be here with Him and continue listening to the still, small Voice. Enjoy the freedom that comes in contemplation. Absorb what you've heard and prayed, and receive the love and grace of God.
○ Here, I am trusting my prayer has been heard. I am practicing being still and knowing that God is God. We are taking time to deliberately rest in the presence of God, and not rushing off to the next part of our day.
○ One author writes, "Allow yourself to simply rest silently with God for a time in the stillness of your heart remaining open to the quiet fullness of God's love and peace. This is like the silence of communion between the mother holding her sleeping infant child. Just be there with Your Heavenly Father, not needing to do anything; just being His beloved child."
• John 15:7-11
• Phil 4:6-7
• Ps 116:7
A Few Notes
Practicing Lectio Divina can be uncomfortable for a few reasons:
First, we aren't always used to taking our time with Scripture, let alone resting. This may take some practice, and that's okay. Second, conviction is not always comfortable; but it is a form of the grace of God to us, and again we should practice seeking the conviction of the Holy Spirit; God uses this to set us free, it's an expression of His love for us, and we are always safe to confess our sins to God knowing He is faithful and will forgive us for our sins.
Third, there can be a pressure to 'hear' from God. Lectio Divina is not a performance-driven exercise - in fact all spiritual devotions are not meant to be about performance; they're meant for worship of our Most High God. This is about spending time with God in His Word. Not accomplishment, not getting it right, just being here and practicing resting and listening to our God who loves us and speaks to us. God knows full well we aren't always going to get it right; He has grace to cover us. We come to Scripture with the holy expectation that the God who is faithful will meet you there, and then just let it be whatever God makes it.
This practice can also be uncomfortable because if we don't approach Lectio Divina appropriately there can be a real risk of deception. This is why Bible study is necessary, we need to read and study for understanding first lest we inadvertently bend the Scriptures. I mentioned there is a 'form' of Lectio where one focuses on a word or phrase and repeats it like a kind of mantra to "go into" God's presence - if we are trying to control how we enter the presence of God like that, it's dangerous. It's not biblical. It's more along the lines of a kind of magic or trance induction, and this is not what the Word of God is for or about.
We are going to pay attention to how the Holy Spirit directs our attention, individually, to specific parts of the passage; but we do not then take that directed attention and use it misuse it to try to alter our state of mind or conjure up the presence of God. The actual practice of Lectio Divina is actually much less work than this. The best way to engage in Lectio Divina, then, is to choose passages that you have already studied and are familiar with, perhaps passages that were included in the sermon on Sunday, passages relating to a Bible study you're working through. This is how we check what we feel we are hearing from God, so we do not mistake our own voice, our own imagination for God's. It's asking God how would you have me pray? What are you wanting me to get? What are you wanting me to be? What do you want me to know about You?
Martin Luther himself writes about how if one's meditation was not centered on the objective truth of the Word, especially if it becomes about our works and attaining an experience rather than receiving the grace of God, then one's meditation is self-based and idolatry. Luther encouraged meditation and personal response to Scripture; but never apart from study; he was a strong proponent of translating the Bible so everyone could read it and engage with the Word of God for themselves; not in place of engaging with the larger body of Christ and the local church, definitely not without good teaching and pastoral guidance. But rather, to remove the unnecessary mediation between the individual believer and their God and to read and listen and pray to God for oneself rather than having a second-hand relationship with God.