The stretching experience of Lent

Below is my column in today's edition of the Grand Haven Tribune.

Linguistics and the development of languages are subjects that have long interested me. As I studied Biblical Greek and Biblical Hebrew in college, eventually minoring in both languages, I was fascinated by the way that translation is an imperfect art, how some words cannot be fully translated with the same sense of meaning conveyed in the original languages.

As I continued to study, I also learned how the development of the English language carries many of the same intricacies of meaning. Next week, Wednesday, Feb. 14, most Christians around the world will begin their observance of the Season of Lent.

In most Romance languages, the season is known by some variation of the Latin term Quadragesima, which means fortieth (as in the 40 days before the celebrations of Easter). So, for example, in Spanish the word for Lent is Cuaresma, or in French it is Carême. However, in English we took a different approach to the season. The English word Lent comes from the Old English word lencten, which is related to our current English word “lengthen.” This word lencten was the word used to denote the spring season in Old English because this is the time during which the days noticeably begin to lengthen once more (a change even more noticeable in the British Isles than farther south in Continental Europe). Eventually, it also passed over into the spring liturgical season we now call Lent.

I have long loved this idea that Lent is a season to lengthen, particularly since I developed an appreciation for the importance of yoga and core exercises to maintain a healthy body. To see Lent as a season to lengthen can entirely change the way we might approach the Season of Lent as well. Instead of seeing Lent as a dour season we suffer through, feeling rather bad about ourselves and trying (often unsuccessfully) to use disciplines to mortify the flesh. What if we saw Lent as a time to stretch spiritually? How might that change the way we approach the season?

Take the question of Lenten disciplines, practices you take on or joys you give up during the 40 days. For example, I often abstain from alcohol during Lent. If I view this as a lengthening, a stretching, habit, I’m invited to let this be an exercise in health, stretching past my temptation to reach for a drink at the end of the long day so that I might instead reach elsewhere – toward my family, time spent with friends, or even just a hot cup of tea. Similarly, another good Lenten discipline in the Episcopal Church is to take up one of the Daily Offices (this is particularly given a resource put out by Forward Movement, available at prayer.forwardmovement.org or on your smart device using the “Day by Day” app). While I pray morning prayer each day in the church, Monday through Thursday, at around 9 a.m. (anyone can join me!), I often have found that praying the night prayers of Compline during Lent stretches me spiritually. It reconnects me to God at the end of the day, as I reflect upon what has happened, where I could have done better, and entrust myself to God’s loving care.

And with all of the anger and frustration that is still boiling in Ottawa County, I think this year’s Lent is a good opportunity for any Christian to ask what it might mean to stretch your own understanding of those with whom you disagree. What would it look like to “drop the content” of the argument (just for a moment, as therapists often encourage couples) and get curious about the emotions, the fears and values and even hopes that animate the rhetoric?

For example, if you are a Christian who is fundamentally opposed to Christians like those in my church who will be putting on the second annual Pride Festival this year, might you ask what it feels like to be a queer person of faith in this community? I know you think that people like me are reading the Bible through a cultural lens – but what if the actual cultural lens was the more conservative view, an older understanding of sex and gender that we now know scientifically is fundamentally different than what ancient people understood.

After all, as I told someone who was asking questions about this in my office a few weeks ago, in the end, there are only six verses in the entire Bible that might deal with these questions (and even there, scholarship increasingly casts doubt upon many of those interpretations – you can see more that I’ve written on that online at sjegh.com/affirming essays). On the other hand, there are more than 2,000 verses in Scripture about caring for the stranger (better translated immigrant) orphan, widowed, and impoverished among us. Why aren’t those the ones that occupy the dominant voice in “biblical” Christianity?

So, if you want to lengthen, perhaps try on some different views on sexuality and gender than those with which you were raised. Even better, go out and grab a cup of coffee with a queer Christian. You’ll probably find out you have far more in common than you think.

And lest you think I’m letting myself off the hook, I think that progressives in our community (including myself!) could also benefit by trying to stretch our own perspectives toward those with more conservative views. Could a few conversations with more conservative friends help you identify shared values and find ways to come together around those rather than trying to prove them wrong? I know that’s happened to me more than once. Sure, maybe that might not be possible at the extremes … but I have a hunch there are more shared commitments than many of us realize.

So, try to stretch yourself this season, no matter where you find yourself spiritually or politically. And if you’ve sort of lost touch with church in the years following the pandemic, this is a great time to reconnect. After all, stretching in community is best, because then there is someone to catch you when you fall.

The Rev. Dr. Jared C. Cramer, Tribune community columnist, serves as rector of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven. Information about his parish can be found at www.sjegh.com.