By Hilary Wolkan, Floral House Resident 2014
I don’t have a long history of observing Lent. Having been raised in an atheist household, my experience with Lenten promises consisted of watching my Christian friends routinely give up something—sweets, soda, swearing—and likewise routinely fail, year after year. The idea that was presented to me was that we make a sacrifice in remembrance of Jesus’ sacrifice for us. Once I became Christian, I too found myself in this rut of giving something up and failing. This might be due to my lack of self-control, or just my insatiable love of chocolate and carbonated beverages, but I never seemed to be able to make it the whole 40 days.
Inevitably, there would always be a moment about four weeks in when I would slip, and a small voice in my head would say “Well, there goes that, might as well not try for the rest of Lent” and I’d continue the rest of the season feeling ashamed at my failure. How could I not even give up something as benign as desserts for 40 days when my Savior gave up His life for me? This obviously isn’t the right way of thinking, but being a new Christian, I had no other understanding, and I was far more comfortable with guilt than I was with forgiveness.
It wasn’t until I reached grad school when I started to think about Lent differently. What if, instead of a physical sacrifice, I made Lenten promises that would sacrifice unhealthy mindsets or emotional practices? What if I used Jesus’ story as inspiration to become a better person, instead of using it to year after year remind myself that I am human, imperfect, and therefore ultimately will not fulfill my promise? With this new realization, I began to attack the ugliness within me. Whether giving up gossip or negative thoughts about others or myself, I strove to better myself, to make myself more Christ-like, to shine a bit of light into the darkness of who I was. And when I slipped indulged in departmental gossip, or caught myself complaining about a co-worker, I showed myself the grace that Jesus would show me and tried again. Lent thus became not a source of anxiety or depression, but a time for me to draw closer to God and to become the person God created me to be.
This year, however, I’ve been really struggling to connect with God. Although I’ve surrounded myself with wonderful, spiritual people and communities, the normal routine of church services and Bible studies seemed to be smothering my fire for the Lord rather than stoke it. I decided that my Lenten promise this year would be to make more of an effort to cultivate my relationship with God, and in ways that gave me life. I began to worship for 30 minutes daily, singing my praises to God even when I didn’t feel like singing, and to apply creative practices to spirituality on a weekly basis. I realized during a SoulCollage retreat that although art and poetry had been such a regular activity in my life back in high school, I couldn’t remember the last time I wrote a poem or created a collage. What was one such an integral method of expression for me had been lying on a shelf for the past 8 years (has it really been 8 years?), unused and collecting dust. As a result, I resolved to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and give myself space to create and write for the Lord.
What resulted was unexpected. Not only was I able to reconnect with a part of me that had long been neglected, I also began to appreciate the creativity bestowed upon me, the intentionality of every thread He had knitted into my being, and the diverse ways the Lord likes to be related to. For the first time in months, I found myself excited to spend time with God, looking forward to the next morning’s worship, the next poem to be scrawled onto crisp white paper, the next magazine cut-outs to be plastered to my artist’s notebook. I was no longer ashamed to explore alternative modes of spirituality; rather, I fully embraced it as God embraces it. I began to realize that God loves all sorts of relationships, not just ones that involve incense and ancient chants. He created me in his image, to be a creator of beauty just as He is a creator of beauty. I shouldn’t feel the need to sweep that part of my personality under the carpet, especially when it is an expression of my love for Him.
I began Lent with the intent to spend more time with Jesus. As I journey through these 40 days, the mere act of worshipping and praising God through regular, creative means which are true to who I am has allowed me to see the world like Jesus does. It wasn’t until I began to revive and use this side of me that I could see God’s love for diversity and the necessity for a spectrum of spiritual practices, all tailored to His individual children. What started as a simple act to resuscitate good spiritual practices actually became a whole new mindset and way of life. While I still slip up and fail in following my Lenten promise, I feel closer to God than I have in a long time, and closer to being who I am meant to be. That, to me, is all I can ask for.
By Hilary Wolkan, Floral House Resident 2014
One Response to Hilary Wolkan’s Reflection Lent: Creativity As Spiritual Practice