The Fast We Choose
A reflection on Lent and what it could be
Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. If you’ve read Sacred Self-Care, you know that I did not grow up observing Lent. I don’t remember us talking about it in the historically Black Baptist church. If you’d asked me about a liturgical calendar, I would have thought you were referring to pastor’s anniversary, church anniversary, auxiliary Sunday, and Watch Night.
Then one Wednesday in early 2004, I arrived for class at Duke Divinity School and noticed a White classmate who had a black smudge on her forehead. I wondered whether I should point that out to her, but something seemed intentional about the smudge. Sure enough, pretty soon I noticed more people - all White - with dirt on their foreheads. I found my first year cohort of Black friends, most of whom were also Baptist and looking as puzzled as I was. Eventually, we saw a Black Methodist classmate with the smudge and asked what was going on. That was the beginning of my Lenten exploration.
I didn’t give up anything that first year. Since Lent wasn’t part of my tradition, I didn’t take for granted that I should give anything up. Well, it probably also had a lot to do with my anti-authoritative streak. I tend to question a lot about religious and cultural traditions. That was how I ended up in seminary, after all. I kept questioning and then one day God answered back. But I digress.
The part about Lent that resonated with me was the discipline and the reliance upon God, something that I’d always admired in my father’s Ramadan observance. But much of what I heard people giving up seemed frivolous and disconnected from spiritual growth: potato chips, soda, chocolate…okay, wait, chocolate is a biological necessity for women above a certain age so that might require a lot of divine assistance. It often felt more like dieting than discipleship.
Each year, as I pondered whether I’d adopt a Lenten discipline, I asked what was needed to deepen my relationship with God and strengthen my capacity for ministry. More often than not, my inner wisdom pointed me to something related to wellness. Sometimes, it was measurable behaviors, for example, reviving the morning meditation and prayer ritual that I’d had prior to seminary. Sometimes, it was relinquishing negative thought patterns like perfectionism. One year, it was taking a church sabbatical and releasing the guilt about it. Since I started using a Self-Care Rule of Life, my Lenten discipline has usually involved focusing on a particular area where I need improvement.
My Lenten practice is rarely about suffering. Personally, I think it’s strange that the liturgical calendar moves so quickly from the joy of Christmas and Epiphany to the suffering of Jesus’s wilderness journey and the crucifixion. It seems like we should spend more time emulating the ministry and personhood of Christ before we start anticipating his death. Imagine what our world would be like if Lent focused upon lightening our yokes and the yokes that burden other people.
If I had to name a hope for Lent this year, it would be to help me release the yokes of busy-ness, dis-ease, materialism, social disconnection, and apathy that plague our world, starting with myself. I’m journeying with a group through Sacred Self-Care in an effort to be grounded in who God is calling me to be at this moment in time, when war, violence, genocide, political and economic instability, corporate greed, environmental destruction, xenophobia, and the erosion of civil liberties run rampant all over the world. I’m cultivating embodied care for myself because I know that compassion is self-propagating. And more than anything right now, we need more care in the world, even when it seems like there’s too much to care about.
This is what I believe sacred self-care does. It connects to ourselves, to God, to one another, to the earth. It reminds us that we are not separate from one another. We are not separate from the earth. We were all created from dust and will return to dust. What matters between dusting is not our striving, but our love and our care. Let this be the fast we choose: a fast from apathy, from self-neglect, from disrespect of our embodiment, from isolation, from greed.
Join the Sacred Self-Care Lent Study
The Sacred Self-Care Lent online group kicked off on Monday and I am already overjoyed by the support and encouragement that we are giving each other. It’s not too late to join, so be sure to visit the site. Or click below to see yesterday’s discussion.
Thank you Dr. Walker-Barnes. I too come from a background that doesn’t necessarily observe lent and so last year I joined a group that leaned into social justice for our Lenten season. I was extremely excited when you said you would start a Lenten study around your book, which by the way I have read through twice, with some practice. Was just explaining to my husband how the I observed lent last year and what I am doing this year. One year I refrained from having such a sharp tongue. This year along with this journey I am also looking at ways to be better in the world around me and will practice restraint in some ways. Also I burned that palm they gave me last year at church and applied ashes to my own forehead this morning. I can and will start my own traditions for the spiritual practices I want in my life.
I love the idea of releasing the yokes! That just sounds freeing. Thank you for the reminder of the power within us to let go and know that God has us.