Every Ash Wednesday, as Lent begins, our service includes the words: 

As disciples of Jesus, we are called to a discipline that contends against evil and resists whatever leads us away from love of God and neighbor. I invite you, therefore, to the discipline of Lent—self-examination and repentance, prayer and fasting, sacrificial giving and works of love—strengthened by the gifts of word and sacrament. Let us continue our journey through these forty days to the great Three Days of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

 

Every year, I get questions about Lent, and these disciplines. So, this week, I’m going to do my best to answer some of these questions, FAQ style.

Do I have to give something up for Lent?

Short answer: no. Longer answer: Historically, Christians have been encouraged to give up luxurious foods like meat and butter or activities like drinking and sex (yes, the Catholic church really did try to get people to stop having sex for all of Lent. Easy for the celibate priests to say.) Living a simpler lifestyle was intended to bring people closer to God. 

So, if you’re fasting, or  giving something up (and I’ve heard of everything from swearing to chocolate to nail-biting), ask yourself: is giving this up bringing me closer to God? Or am I using Lent as an opportunity to restart my New Year’s Resolution? Lent isn’t a self-help season, but a season to love God and serve our neighbors better. 

If you really want to give something up, consider: give up your daily Starbucks and donate that money to the DMARC Food Pantry Network. Give up half an hour of TV time and spend it in Bible study instead. Give up gossip, and every time you’re tempted, say a prayer for that person’s well-being instead.

 

What about taking something on? I’ve heard some people do that.

Sure, that can be a way to observe Lent. Again, taking something on should be a way to get closer to God or to your neighbors. Some people make extra time to volunteer during Lent, or dedicate themselves to reading their Bible every day. Last year, I wore my clergy collar every day of Lent. (I’m not sure it brought me closer to God, but it certainly led to some interesting conversations with people who weren’t expecting to see a young woman as a pastor.) The things we take on should somehow fit into that category of “works of love” as they draw us into a right relationship with God, with our neighbors, and with ourselves.

 

Am I really not allowed to say Alleluia?

This is not a Monty Python sketch. The Knights Who Say Ni will not show up, bewailing that you said it. Together, in worship, we lay our alleluias down for a season in order to remind ourselves that it is still okay to come to worship even when we don’t feel like saying “Praise God!” When that Alleluia returns at Easter, it can feel extra special.

Now, in your own individual life during these forty days, you might be accepted to the college of your choice or have a baby or get a promotion or find the very last Stanley cup on the shelf, and in that moment, I hope you say Alleluia. I hope you continue to praise God for the good God does no matter what season we’re observing in worship, just as I hope you know your laments are welcome in worship even when others are rejoicing. Your whole self belongs in church.