Lenten Humility

Last Wednesday, the church welcomed in the season of Lent. Lent is supposed to be a season set apart from the rest of the year, where the faithful reflect on Christ’s death before we celebrate his resurrection and life among us. We find our own death and finitude in Christ’s death, and our potential for abundance in Christ’s resurrection.

This year, though, I’m noticing how easy it is to let Lent accelerate the ever-present drive toward self perfection. Lent can easily morph from a season of humble, prayerful reflection to a tool of ego-driven self obsession. I didn’t grow up with a practice of fasting, but every year when Lent rolls around I wonder if there’s something from which I could fast. My first thought this year was “hmm, what do I need to work on?” I thought about exercising more or procrastinating less. I quickly found myself co-opting a deeply spiritual practice into a pop culture self-help trend. You’d think I’d know better after seminary…

Lent is the ideal liturgical season to take a sober look at the life you’re living and decide if it’s the life you’d like to live (of the parts within your control). But–in the same breath–Lent is not about seeking perfect alignment between who we are now and who we hope to become. We are to seek self-compassion for where we are on life’s journey trusting that, through prayer and an honest desire to know God’s path, the Holy Spirit will guide us in the right direction. We are to be content yet unsettled: A holy paradox.

It is easy to think that picking a Lenten fast will help us solidify the changes we seek in life; Whether we hope to drink less, eat less, or spend less time on our phones, we can imagine that these goals of “less” draw us closer to God through striving for our distracted ideal of perfection. The goal of doing more with less is often a good and holy one, as long as we are motivated by a sincere desire to draw closer to God and others. If we’re seeking wholeness through external “tweaks” we just might be missing the point. I sure was.

Lent reminds us to tend to the humility at the core of our faith and cultivate an openness to be amazed by the scandalous story of a God who lived, died, and rose from the grave. What would happen if you released your grip on your ideal of perfection this Lent and allowed the Spirit to disrupt, surprise, and delight you?

If fasting is an important part of your understanding of the Lenten season then I encourage you to pair it with a prayer that God would use your fast to surprise and disrupt you. This Lent, I’ll carry the spirit of the Merton Prayer (written by the Trappist monk, Thomas Merton) with me to remind me of the humility at the heart of the season:

The Merton Prayer

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

“The Merton Prayer” from Thoughts in Solitude Copyright © 1956, 1958 by The Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani.

Text copyright © 2023 Grace Woodward. All rights reserved.