Lent as a church season
In most Christian churches throughout the world, today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Lent is a period of 40 weekdays, observed by believers as a penitential and devotional preparation for Holy Week and Easter Sunday’s remembrance of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is also a liturgical commemoration of the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert before starting his public ministry.
Lent as a personal pilgrimage
Growing up in the Episcopal Church, during Lent we usually gave up something we enjoyed (e.g., chocolate or dessert). In recent years, I prefer to use the time to take on a new discipline: a book study, additional prayer time, a retreat. This year, I will keep a prayer journal so I can be more intentional about my connection and conversation with God.
Lent has long moved me. I find my sensitivity to Spirit quickens at this time, primarily, I’m sure because I make the space for it. I write very little poetry, but in 2003, Lent inspired me to write Lent Calls, and I share it with you here. Below the poem is the beautifully illustrated rendition done by my friend Lynne Crumpacker. If there is sufficient interest, I will get it printed on quality paper, ready for framing. Please let me know using the contact form on this site’s Get In Touch Page if you want to be put on a no-obligation list to be notified when printing and pricing are decided.
Lent Calls
Lent calls to me again . . . To do what? Like Martha, I tend towards doing Doing is something I understand Chairing a committee Taking food to the sick Reading the Bible Lent calls to me again . . . He wants more of me than I’ve ever given More than Lenten study More than giving up dessert More than extra church services Lent calls to me again . . . He wants more of me and I’m frightened Frightened of losing control Frightened of letting go Frightened of what He might ask me to do if I really listened Lent calls to me again . . . I feel a yearning, a tugging towards something more Whispers of a love unimaginable Glimpses of a relationship unshakable Tastes of a water so clear and sweet that my thirst is slaked forever Lent calls to me again . . . A step is all I can manage, Lord A hand extended A head bowed A conscious placing of myself on your Potter’s wheel Lent calls to me again . . . Help me with the hard part, Lord Help me surrender Help me abandon myself to you Help me reconcile myself to you Lent calls to me again . . . Here I am, Lord Elizabeth Herbert Cottrell Heartspoken.com © 2003
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That’s lovely!
Thank you so much, Cindy. I wrote it several years ago and every year I find it pulls something else up from the depths to consider and ponder. For commenting on my blog during my book giveaway, your name is being entered (book is Gretchen Rubin’s “Outer Order, Inner Calm”).
Beautiful. I find In this season of the year and of my life I am being called in new ways that seem far from what I have always felt called to do. We can’t put God on a shelf or in a box. He moves in ways we never expected. He breathes new life into us. He asks hard things of us as he works his way in us. Your last three lines are so relatable and so powerful.
Yes, it is so remarkable that these periods of being called to something new still look entirely different from one time to another, don’t they? The value of looking back on them from the perspective of my 69 years is being able to see how God never left my side while He was nudging me out of my comfort zone. I find the potter’s wheel comparison so helpful — that pot must be pretty darned uncomfortable to be pushed and prodded and stretched and smashed and fired before it becomes a vessel of beauty and utility.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting! Another entry into my book drawing!
This fits in perfectly with how I’ve decided my Lent will be. Which is to give more along with giving up. I’m skipping the usual banning of chocolate & substituting instead the worse habit of judgement & criticism. I’ll be putting $$ in the “Mite Box” each time I lapse. My mantra will be “Give Freely, Think Kindly, Act Gently, & Be at peace with the world & myself”.
Yes, Trudy, it’s those intangibles — those knee-jerk emotions — that can be our downfall, can’t they? You’re insightful and brave to recognize an area of weakness and turn it over to God. Those things we don’t (or won’t) acknowledge are even more insidious. I’ve had very little luck actually being cured from some of these weaknesses (one of mine is wanting the control the outcome of things in my life and thinking, often, that I CAN). I used to be enormously frustrated by this, but it’s finally dawning on me that it is in my weakest moments when I’ve felt closest to God. I have to believe that is fa more than coincidental!
Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Trudy!
This is such a beautiful message and gorgeous poem, Elizabeth. As a lifelong Catholic, I have observed lent since childhood. I knew the rules, and mostly just worried about holding to my personal sacrifices for the duration. As an adult, the years of study and reflection have brought me around the corner from aspirations of success in giving-up chocolate and jellybeans, into the awesome beauty of this 40 days. Truly, I LOVE lent, a season that calms me down, allows me to refocus, and deepens my spiritual commitment. I love Jesus on an ordinary day and go mad for Him during Lent!
It’s difficult for me to give up the treats I enjoy, and so I do just that. Giving up “things” reminds me what I sometimes forget, which is to say I am far stronger and determined when I do things for Christ, than when it’s simply for self. Along with giving up stuff, I make a commitment toward things that involve prayer and service, with the hope I’ll hold to them even after Lent is over. In part, I intend to focus on “giving-up” worry, biting back my usual immediate reactions to petty annoyances, impatience, and to be a kinder person at times when my inclination is to be anything but.
Oh, Barbara, this is such a beautiful outpouring of your faith, and I am moved deeply that you are sharing it here with us. Your mindset for giving things up is perfect — with an end to helping you focus on our Lord and his life, death, and resurrection. I love what you said, “I love Jesus on an ordinary day and go mad for Him during Lent!” That must make our heavenly father grin from ear to ear.
May you have a blessed and holy Lent!
Well said. A while back, I took some advice and I no longer ‘give up’ things for Lent, rather, I take on something new..a new, healthier, or servant minded activity. Do something new and it might just become a habit. Besides, even though it is a bit of a semantics, it is more pleasant to think of adding something to my life rather than deigning it. 🙂
So true, Kim, and I have done the same thing. If I “give up” anything, it’s to try and give up some of the baggage I carry — the spiritual clutter, if you will. That helps me focus on God and on the journey that Christ took as he moved towards the Crucifixion. I wrote about this in a guest blog last year called “De-cluttering isn’t just for closets and inboxes.”
Brad, thank you so much for this very thoughtful comment. I’m very interested to learn that Lent isn’t an emphasized season in all Christian churches. I love that you put your finger on the important commonalities. And thank you for sharing that powerful piece of scripture!
Thank you, Elizabeth, for such a nice synopsis of Lent and for the exquisite poem!
The observance of Lent has not been at the forefront in the denominational circles through which I’ve grown over the years.
Your poem, though, has certainly captured what I believe to be the essence of what God is after in each of us: Surrender, Abandon, Reconciliation
I love that passage from 2 Corinthians 5:
Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation.
Blessings!