I was brought up as a Catholic and always gave up something for Lent, usually candy when I was little and then as a teenager always an attempt — always unsuccessful — to give up smoking. I don’t think Lent ever did much for me spiritually. I found in later years and even to this day that I try to bargain with God — like if he’ll let something happen that I want or prevent something I don’t, I’ll be extra generous with the poor or stop being irritable with my husband or something else that does not really require much from me. If my prayers are answered, I usually forget about my end of the bargain. I think it’s fair to say that I don’t have a full, rich spiritual life.
I have no discipline, so foresaking favorite food is simply not a possibility for me. My daughter, however, who grew up without a spiritual framework and missed it terribly from the get-go, every year gives up something for Lent. This year it’s sodas. Last year, chocolates. The year before that, sugar. She was reduced to setting up her own religious structure because her mom neglected it and for that, I’m very sorry. She also observes various Jewish holidays as she identifies with that religion as most of her friends are Jewish. Once, when she was much younger, she said to me, “Mom, I wish we were Jewish.” I was about to marry my husband who is Jewish and I said, “Honey, I’m doing the best I can.” She co-officiated with the rabbi at the marriage ceremony and wore a yarmulke.
I am a Christian, but a Presbyterian, and we famously don’t give up much or make much of a physical effort in return for a spiritual reward, unlike our Episcopalian and Catholic brethren. We do not, for example, even get up to take communion. It is brought to us. My very smart and very devout mother has always explained to me that Lent is not supposed to be about giving up things like bread or chocolate (which most people do in hopes of getting thin, an entirely Earthly reward) or porno flicks or whatever. You’re supposed to give up things or habits of thinking and being that keep you from being closer to the grace of God, so that it’s not so much about giving up specific stuff, but about giving more of yourself.
A couple of years ago, our minister (in a Congregational United Church of Christ) suggested that we give up VIOLENCE for Lent, as part of the Decade to Overcome Violence movement. That meant no TV news, no action-packed movies or CSI. It was the most remarkable personal experience, and one I try to emulate each year at this time, to experience the slowing-down-ness and greater sense of the abundance of God’s gifts. Of course, we had - and still have some very big prayers to say for the warring parties around the world in this context.
I am Christian—I consider myself non-denominational, but most would call the worship services I attend pentacostally slanted. I have given up many things to “invoke” God into my situations…TV, food, mindless telephone conversations, the list goes on, and on. Often times, the absence of these things provides more time to pray, mediate, and find inspiration by spending more time reading the Bible or other spiritually intellectual documents. It works…but I find that what works better is to GIVESOMETHING rather than give something up. In essence, if I see the lack of God’s presence in the world and it troubles me enough to not eat in order to pray about it, I have found that after praying, crying, meditating over it…the God in me requires action…personal involvement beyond what I would normally do. Fasting and Lenten sacrifices work…but personal involvement and committment should always be what comes next. (please forgive any mispelled words…it is really early here :-0).
As a Baha’i we have a Fast. It is from sunrise to sunset. And it is for 19 days (our calendar has 19 day months) . The fasting period, which lasts nineteen days starting as a rule from the second of March every year and ending on the twentieth of the same month, involves complete abstention from food and drink from sunrise till sunset. It is essentially a period of meditation and prayer. Fasting is of two kinds, material and spiritual. The material fasting is abstaining from food or drink, that is, from the appetites of the body. But spiritual, ideal fasting is this, that man abstain from selfish passions, from negligence and from satanic animal traits. Therefore, material fasting is a token of the spiritual fasting.
The comments are interesting for how little they take the question seriously. I recently picked up a book by Anthea Butler, Women in the Church of God In Christ: Making A Sanctified World. This is not a sanctimonious book. It’s about group of African-American women, not young women, who managed to negotiate considerable power for themselves and the black community they lived in by using things like cleanliness, moderation of food intake, fasting, prayer, and abstinence from alcohol, to weld together a potent power base for themselves. It’s a remarkable book and it reminds me of my aunts and their friends, Pioneer Girls, who work for Ma Bell during the depression. Growing up in the early 60’s, these women were well dressed and self confident and they had their own money. Many of them held their family together during the depression. That was also about using ‘spiritual’ behavior, holding oneself to a discipline, to achieve a goal.
Though I was raised in a Christian church, I was never taught the concept of Lent. However, it seems to be a ‘fad’ in the last few years. I do not officially participate in Lent, but I have at times done a “music” fast. Only uplifting, encouraging music - it does make a difference in my day, especially the time I spend driving!
On a deeper level, most of us are slaves to something - food, shopping, busy-ness, for example. I think it is a good practice to give up something, if only for a little while, that holds more importance in our lives than it should. It never hurts to re-evaluate our priorities.
To help me discover my place in the universe, I’ve fasted in two ways. By giving up food for a period of time and also for giving up talking for a weekend. I think the silence was more enlightening.
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