I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect.
Romans 12:1-2
I’ve never been a huge fan of fruit.
When I was a boy, fruit was what my Mom made me eat instead of cake. So, when my wife and I embarked on a diet a few years ago that placed a heavy emphasis on eating fresh fruits and vegetables, I was less than enthusiastic. But I wanted to be healthier, so I committed myself to apples and oranges and bananas.
But honestly, who wants to give up cake? That’s just depressing. Substituting an apple for cake borders on insulting. But I was fat and needed to change, so substitute I did.
I approached my first season of Lent much the same way. Having grown up in an evangelical church, I thought Lent was 40 days of giving up something you loved as a public display of faith. That made little sense to me. Those first few diet days were difficult, as were the first few days of Lent. They required a discipline and maturity that I am ashamed to say I really had to work to cultivate within myself. But—in both cases—I began to notice changes relatively quickly.
In the case of the diet, it was a burgeoning a taste for fruit. As my taste developed, so did my appreciation. I found that mango, though difficult to prepare, was delicious. Kiwi made my mouth water; and my old nemesis strawberry became my breakfast cereal’s best friend. I didn’t give up on cake entirely, but my horizons were definitely expanding.
And I felt better.
I had more energy.
I started to lose weight.
I began to see the benefit of fruit.
That first Lenten season was similar.
One of the conditions I placed upon myself was that I would not share with anyone what form my Lenten fast would take. This was between me and God. Little did I realize how that would impact my life. That first Lenten fast provoked questions—all of which I directed to God. One of the first places I went for answers was to the account of Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness:
Jesus, “fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. 3 The tempter came and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ 4 But he answered, ‘It is written,
‘One does not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” Matthew 4:2-4
That first Lenten’ fast drew me out of myself, and this world, and closer to God in a way I had not experienced before. In denying myself, I made room for the Holy Spirit to renew my mind. Through the discipline of the Lenten’ fast, I let go of the familiar, the routine, the old way, and made room for something new. I turned from the cake of my old life to the fruit of the Spirit. (See what I did there?)
The physical act of fasting was one way of making my body a living sacrifice. I turned myself over to my Father as a sacrifice to him, which Romans 12:1 tells me is my “spiritual worship.” He honored that sacrifice, and continues to honor it, by feeding with His word and sustaining me with His Spirit.
Lent isn’t just fasting and ascetic behaviors, it’s about renewal. As you enter this season, I encourage you to find ways to open your heart and mind to the Holy Spirit through the fast. Enter this season expectantly, prayerfully and humbly. Take this opportunity to let go of your world and be transformed by your Father in Heaven.
Let us strive to truly desire the fruit of the Spirit through the renewing of our minds.
—The Rev. Michael Clements
St. John’s, Durant