Lent
I have been blessed to be part of many different church cultures: Lutheran, Episcopal, Independent Bible, Reformed Baptist, Presbyterian, and some that defy classification. The variety of traditions that have influenced my personal piety bring great depth and meaning rather than confusion. I consider the tapestry of my experiences as a gift.
Some people ask why I like to remember the church seasons (Advent, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week, etc.). Why bother with those “old” traditions… they aren’t biblical, are they? Well, for me, it was the imagery as a young child growing up in a church full of annual symbols that vividly told the story of Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection. The joy of Christmas was always accompanied by the smell of the greens and the heady aroma of incense (from the Wise Men in the Nativity pageant). Lent was always a sober time, not so much of denial, but of contemplation about the sin and darkness of my life without Christ. Holy Week is the full gamut: from joyous Palm Sunday to Good Friday to victorious Resurrection Day. The picture in my mind’s eye of stripping the altar, taking away everything of beauty, the black cloth… still to this day bring an ache to my heart. And then, oh joy! On Sunday morning, early Sunday morning, we would come in through the doors and miraculously everything was white and bright and fragrant with lilies! To a small child, or even to an adult, the senses are called upon to fully embrace the tremendous theological victory. I think the Bible is full of imagery that draws on all the senses. So employing the church traditions to help us remember the stories of the Bible seems perfectly legitimate to me.
Additionally, I am struck by how the church traditions that have meant so much to me are very corporate in nature. Most of my memories were not of things that I did by myself, in personal devotion, but rather as part of a larger group. And I was able to participate even as a child… and I might add that there was a distance between those childhood memories which seem to have had such an impact on me and when I truly embraced faith. Nevertheless, those seeds that were sown became anchors of meaning as I grew in my faith later in life. Now I long for the opportunities to again share these precious seasons with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I am unsure how to meld my personal desires for this type of congregational worship with the church that we are currently attending. We love so much about this church, but we do not observe Lent. And obviously, celebrating or not celebrating the church seasons is not the highest priority for being part of a particular body.
Advent seems to have been adopted by more diverse congregations than other seasons of the church. Why are some of the other seasons seemingly ignored? Ken Collins, pastor of Garfield Memorial Christian Church in McLean, Virginia, has written an interesting piece about the history of why churches have chosen not to celebrate Lent (usual caveat: I don’t necessarily agree with everything on his website, but he offers some good perspectives). I hope that more individuals and congregations will come to value the church seasons and traditions as I have… as tools to bring us to the correct focus on Jesus Christ.
February 28th, 2005 at 5:22 pm
I’ve grown up in a very liturgical tradition, and man … I can’t see making sense of Easter without all of the trappings of Lent, much as Christmas is so much harder to grasp without Advent.
February 28th, 2005 at 9:24 pm
It’s sad the things we Protestants run from in horror because we’re so afraid they reek of Catholicism…but so many of these liturgical tradtions have their origins far before the formalized Roman Catholic church. I myself love the idea of the lectionary, the church calendar following a cycle of readings that take you through the whole redemptive historical story once every year.
March 1st, 2005 at 12:14 am
The churches that I grew up in were, well, very untraditonal. It was not uncommon to sit across from women wearing nothing but grass skirts and holding their pet baby pigs underneath one arm. The men were dressed up in their best, as well, which meant a nice towel wrapped around their waste and maybe a shirt if they owned one.The outfit usually inclued a long homemade cigarette that was dangling out of their mouth or tucked in behind their ear. We observed the Lord’s supper with bannana slices and lemon juice. The lemon juice was in little plastic containers that were the bottom half of the malaria medicine vials which my mother administered in the aidpost with a syringe and needle. In their culture they have no way to make bread or wine and neither are a part of their lives. Despite me growing up in such a untraditional setting, something in me is drawn toward traditions. I hadn’t really heard of advent before I met Hannah. I hope that as the years progress it will turn into something that Seamus and Eva will look back on and appreciate. Maybe Lent will be next.
March 1st, 2005 at 9:24 am
Philip, someday you need to write a book! Your memories are wonderful little stories that put perspective on our ideas about what is necessary, normal, and obvious! I’m sure that the traditions you and Hannah are establishing with Éva and Seámus will be precious to them. And I hope one of those traditions will be telling them stories from when you were growing up.
March 1st, 2005 at 3:45 pm
I’m excited about celebrating Easter this year - especially after reading Noel Piper’s “Treasuring God in Your Traditions”. I now have some ideas on how to tangibly communicate some of these things to a two year old. For instance, one of the things we will be doing is having six candles on the Sunday before Easter. Each night we will blow out a candle… and on Friday night the last candle will be blown out. (This is somewhat of a reversal of Advent). Then on Sunday morning, all the candles will be brightly lit again! The darkness will be overcome by light! Another thing will be making a “play-dough” mountain and little figures and acting out the story bit by bit.