Forty Days and Forty Nights

As we move through the story of Christ and his body, we come to the forty-day season of Lent. It is a time of fasting and prayer to prepare for Easter, the most joyous and victorious day of the Christian year.

Lent represents the forty days Christ withdrew and fasted as he prepared for his earthly ministry. During this time, waiting for that point when Christ would be his weakest, Satan threw his full forces at Christ: you don't have to do this, Satan said. There's an easier way.

Lent recalls other periods of forty as well: the forty days Moses spent on Mount Sinai, preparing to bind Israel to God in a new covenant, the forty days Noah and his family spent on the arc as God washed and renewed the earth, the time Jonah spent in the belly of the fish in prayer and fasting, repenting of his rebellion, the forty years Israel spent in the wilderness as God cleansed them from their disobedience. In each of these, we see the wait is hard, but this is God's way.

Lent is not an easy period. It's a time of stripping. Our bellies rumble. We miss our favorite foods or TV shows. We crave our morning coffee. In our want, we turn to God. Cleanse us, Lord, we pray. We look inward, examining ourselves, and cry out, "Have mercy on me, O God, because of your loyal love! Because of your great compassion, wipe away my rebellious acts! Wash away my wrongdoing! Cleanse me of my sin!" We become aware of our rebellion, of our nature to turn away from God, and as he responds in love, we revel in his mercies, fresher every morning than any cup of coffee. In the beginning of Lent, the beauty of such repentance engulfs us. 

And yet, as time passes, a small voice whispers to us: There's an easier way. This is the time of instant messaging, wikipedia answers, and video on demand. No longer do we wait on the dark night of the soul. God wouldn't want you to endure this. In our weakness and exhaustion, we give ear to this small voice, which sometimes comes from that bag of potato chips we've been denying. Perhaps it is nonsense, we think. What is the purpose, anyway? Isn't it empty ritual? Haven't I been forgiven already?

These are the questions we ask when the newness of the season withers.

How will we answer that small voice? Do we hold fast, remaining with Christ in his forty days, though we may not understand it? Do we persist in this season of preparation? Or do we find justification for the easier way?

In you I trust, O God.
Do not let me be put to shame,
nor let my enemies triumph over me.
No one whose hope is in you
will ever be put to shame.

Psalm 25:2-3a