Faith: Instead of giving up something for Lent, what if we gave something to the community?

By Rev. Dr. Joshua B. Kulak

Growing up in Baptist churches in East Texas I never experienced the Christian season of Lent—the time of devotion and discipline that serves as a 40-day preparation for Easter. My only real acquaintance with the church calendar at all was with our two main feasts—Easter and Christmas. While those Baptist churches did not introduce me to Christian liturgical seasons, they did give me a love for the bible. They taught me to savor the words of our holy book, to seek to understand the text and then to put it into action.

I was first exposed to Lent in college by visiting Episcopal churches and studying theology. The dominant theme was denial—Lent was about giving something up, things like chocolate, cheese, or coffee. It was a time to abstain from shopping or social media or swearing. It often felt like little more than a competition to make the greatest sacrifice, to give up more than your roommate. In reality, Lenten fasting is meant to help us acknowledge and wrestle with our human frailty and to stare our own death in the face. The aim is to create space for us to recognize God’s gifts of life and love, preparing us to receive these gifts anew at Easter. I often missed this truth as the caffeine withdrawal would set in.

As I became more involved in the Episcopal church, I began to pay more attention to the different bible passages read during the Ash Wednesday liturgy, the service kicking off the Lenten season. That early love of bible and the desire to heed its words came to life. One reading in particular grabbed my attention: “This is the kind of fast day I’m after: to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts. What I’m interested in seeing you do is: sharing your food with the hungry, inviting the homeless poor into your homes, putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad, being available to your own families.” (Isaiah 58:6-7, The Message translation)

The fast that Isaiah describes seemed different from giving up my morning cup of coffee or skipping dessert after a meal. This fast seemed to matter not just for me, but for the life of the world. It was a call to action, a call to justice and liberation. It was a call to take something on, namely, concrete love of neighbor. Then I noticed the language in the reading from Matthew’s Gospel: when you give alms, when you pray, when you fast. Not if, but when. Again, action and commitment. Finally, I discovered the Lenten tradition of practicing acts of mercy. For centuries Christians have seen Lent as an opportunity to engage in new spiritual disciplines aimed at serving the world, disciplines intended to become lifelong practices of kindness, compassion, and charity.

The Lenten fast—Isaiah’s fast—doesn’t stop after 40 days. It continues day after day, as we seek to love our neighbors as ourselves. As Christians we believe that God’s love and justice ultimately break through at Easter, as Jesus Christ defeats evil and death. While we still wait for the final realization of that victory, we are confident that the vision cast by Isaiah will arrive, even as we work towards it now. In Austin there are so many organizations engaged in this type of work—El Buen Samaritano, Casa Marianella, and iACT to name but three. Perhaps our Lenten practice might be to show up and serve our neighbors alongside those already committed to the work. You can still give up chocolate or social media if you’d like—I did—but why not also seek to break the chains of injustice?