Taking Time at Lent

As a child, I was much more enthusiastic about Advent than about Lent. Advent was all rich reds, greens, and golds; anticipation; first snowfalls; beautiful nativity sets with a smiling holy family and shepherds; music filled with awe at God becoming one of us. It was a time for baking, surreptitiously making gifts for siblings and parents, going to Christmas concerts dazzling in their wonder and joy, anticipating the brightness of Christmas Day, and planning how you’d spend those two weeks off.

Lent was purple, but felt grey. It was sombre songs, sin, sorrow, ashes, fasting. It was a time for…not much, it felt like. Reflecting. That doesn’t come so easily for a child. And near the end of Lent, those weeks of looking ahead wrapped up in remembering the brutal execution of the One that all Christians hold dearest.

I loved the joy of Easter, and that Sunday morning felt like the contrast it should after dark and sombre Good Friday. But then there was just one day off from school, rather than the two weeks of freedom and new-toy playing at Christmas. I think I felt like Easter should be a bigger deal than it was, but that’s the way it was.

Today, thanks to time and God’s very patient work on me, I see things a little differently. Advent and Lent are very different, as they should be, but I value each for what it brings. I still love the golden light of Advent, but the light of Lent, sometimes stark, sometimes dim, allows for much-needed recognition and contemplation. 

A recent Network post about resources available from the Calvin Institute for Christian Worship for Lent was titled, “Slowing Down: Resources for Lent from the CICW”. Slowing down is a good approach to Lent. Whether or not you fast at all, or whatever you might “give up” for Lent, slowing down is something we can all do. Pare down the distractions in your life, slow down, and walk the road to the cross with your Savior. Listen for his voice. Ask him to show you how he sees you: sinful and broken, but so very, very beloved, and redeemed because of his work on that Good Friday, a day that feels tragic, but really is good. 

And when Easter morning dawns, rejoice and sing and be glad that Jesus, our King, Savior, Redeemer, and Friend, rose and lives forever, and because of his love, so will we. We might not get two weeks of freedom and new-toy fun after Easter, but because of Easter, one day we’ll have an eternity of freedom and joy in Christ.