Lenten Discipline

As of tomorrow, Lent comes around again at seminary. After three years of this, I'd have to say that Lent is the most noticeable liturgical season at my seminary at least. There are a wide variety of liturgical changes in chapel worship – more use of the Confession of Sin, use of the Trisagion (Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, have Mercy on Us), and a real connection between preaching and campus discussions. And, inevitably, dining room conversations will revolve around the various Lenten practices and disciplines people have in their personal life. There are a huge range of practices and deeply held theologies and ideas behind them.

If I have noticed a trend it is a frustration with “giving something up” during Lent. There is a feeling that it can be an empty asceticism, an act of self-denial with no real purpose, and it reminds people, particularly the former Roman Catholics, of being forced to give up something they liked for an annoying stretch of time when they were kids. I agree with all these arguments. There is no point in simply denying yourself for the sake of denial.

However, there are lots of good reasons for self denial. I actually have one Lenten practice that I've kept for years now – I give up alcohol. This is an old one, one people usually push against. I simply tried it years ago and have found it useful. Here's why:

Lent is a time of personal self-reflection and examination of conscience. It originated as a period of intensive preparation for Baptism – the forgiveness of sins – and still carries a sense that we need to examine what in our lives is keeping us from God and each other. I find it easiest to do this when stone cold sober. No having a beer in the evening, no sitting in a mildly buzzed (and pleasant) stupor. Not drinking frees me up to focus on what I need to examine. I don't spend all my time pondering my sins, but always being sober gives me the space to do it.

As part of our preparation for Easter, I think it is good to reflect both on the cross and tomb – our low points as people – along with the joy and abundance of the resurrection. I'm not a heavy drinker, but I do enjoy a beer, or some good wine, or a nice cocktail, they add some abundance to life. So, over the course of Lent, abstaining gives me some reflection on the tomb, and a glass of champagne on Easter reminds me of God's grace and abundance.

Finally, I think of our work in Lent as akin to preparing a garden for spring. We take a look at the dormant plants, brown and cold. We prune, we fertilize, we prepare. It is a very different time, one where we want to be intentional and directed. For me, every time I don't drink when I might have, I'm reminded of this process.

This particular discipline of self-denial works for me. I also try to add something each year, a “positive” practice. But the stability of this practice frees me to pursue other things.