Reflections on Lent: Why the Church Calendar Matters

We’re barely seven weeks from Christmas and the season of Lent is upon us. I’m grateful for it. The changing of the seasons on the Christian calendar is a welcome break from the mundanity of Canadian winter.

I’m not sure about you, but for me, the seven weeks since Christmas have been a mad dash of work and sorting out new schedules, scrambling to finish projects before they’re due, and leaping from one social event to another.

I’m ready for Lent.

I didn’t grow up in a tradition that recognized Lent, but it is a tradition that I have appreciated greatly in the past years. When I was first introduced to Lent as a university student, I considered it more of an exercise in self-control from sugary foods and other goodies rather than a spiritual humbling before God in preparation for Easter. So you might say I didn’t have great motives for or understanding of Lent.

In the past years, my appreciation for Lent and the rhythms of the Christian calendar has grown. Maybe it’s my nostalgia for all things historical and traditional. Maybe it’s the novelty of the tradition compared to my fundamentalist evangelical roots.

Interesting, isn’t it, how Lent is both traditional and novel.

For many of us who grew up in the fundamentalist Evangelical tradition, it is just that. Traditional. Novel. Old and new. Historical and fresh.

It’s just the sort of thing that breathes new life into my spiritual rhythms each year. I love the church calendar—it begins with Advent, moves through Christmas and the Epiphany, and then toward Lent, the Passion, and Easter, and finally, the Pentecost. It’s predictable. Some might say boring. I say it is stabilizing. In a world that has largely rejected our histories and traditions as obsolete, it is refreshing to be reminded that humanity and the world have existed long before our present day. It is grounding.

The postmodern message says that we don’t need the past. The future is all that matters.

I disagree.

The past is our anchor—not dragging us to the bottom of the sea, but keeping us stable in the storm of humanity’s chaos. It is particularly anchoring because it is rooted in the person and work of our God—he is among us, with us, died for us, raised to new life, and empowers us by His Spirit. The Christian church calendar reminds us of the truth of His presence and character in every season.

It also breaks up the mundanity of our daily lives. Lent reminds us of Jesus’ journey toward Jerusalem and the faithful discipleship of his followers as they journeyed with him. Lent grants us the opportunity to settle our hearts, minds, and souls in a specific direction—toward the cross. It’s not something to dread, but something to wonder, ponder, and anticipate. To stand in awe before the cross. To meet Jesus in a particular, personal way as we journey with Him.

So, as we head into Lent, would you join me in reflecting on His life and work, then and now? Instead of choosing something obscure to abstain from, would you enter into this season with careful intention, setting your face toward the cross of Christ in your work and play? How might you meet Him and draw closer to Him in this season?

May we meet God together in this season of Lent.