what's the point?

​As we enter the season of Lent, we are given the opportunity to pause. To “fast.” To deny ourselves. To turn our attention again to Christ and His journey to the cross. For many, Lent is marked by somber reflection. For me, it also carries a great deal of nostalgia, personal memories, and tradition. My father’s vicarage was just outside of New Orleans in Metairie, Louisiana. A Nebraska native, he met my mother, a Pennsylvania native, while serving at Messiah Lutheran there. God certainly does miraculous things. That season of life tied our family story to Cajun cooking, creole cuisine, and the traditions surrounding Mardi Gras.
         When most people hear “Mardi Gras,” they think of opulence and excess. But historically, it was deeply connected to Lent and Ash Wednesday. As early as 325 A.D., the Council of Nicaea established that Easter would fall on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the vernal equinox, along with a 40-day preparatory season. Around 600 A.D., Pope Gregory I formalized Ash Wednesday, expanding Lent to 46 days to allow for 40 days of fasting, excluding Sundays.
         For centuries, fasting meant abstaining from meat, dairy, eggs, and animal products. So what did you do with the eggs, milk, and meat in your home before Lent began? You cooked them. Hence, “Fat Tuesday” or “Shrove Tuesday” or “Pancake Tuesday.” Traditions develop for practical reasons. Over time, fasting practices changed. When my wife and I lived in Wisconsin for about five years, Lent often meant Friday Fish Fries. What began as abstaining from meat on Fridays evolved into a beloved tradition — from church basements to supper clubs, even to the seasonal return of the fast-food fish sandwich. Wisconsin simply decided fried fish was too good to limit to one season.
         But all of that history and tradition leads to a deeper question: What is the point?
         Lent is not about jump-starting a diet because we already abandoned our New Year’s resolutions. It is not about proving our discipline by giving up soda, chocolate, or fried foods. Jesus tells us clearly in Matthew 6: When you give… when you pray… when you fast… do not do it to be seen. Do not announce it with trumpets. Do not pray on the street corners for recognition. Do not look gloomy so others will notice your sacrifice.
         Lent is not outward performance. It is inward reflection. We may be tempted to say, “I have kept the commandments, I haven’t murdered anyone, I haven’t stolen.” But Lent turns our eyes inward — to the heart. We memorize the commandments and their meanings not to congratulate ourselves, but to be reminded that we are sinners in need of forgiveness.
         And thanks be to God — He sent His Son. Christ lived the sinless life we could not live. He walked steadily toward the cross. He suffered, died, and rose again so that we may be forgiven, redeemed, and granted eternal life. That is the heart of Lent. That is the reason for the season.
         Here at Martin Luther, that same Gospel message remains central. During February we also enter our open enrollment period for the next school year. That is important, yes — but more important is why we exist. God’s Word is first and foremost here. Everything we do flows from Christ and Him crucified. We know we are not for everyone. There are many factors families consider — financial, social, logistical. But our mission does not change. We are here to provide a Lutheran secondary education rooted firmly in Scripture, shaping young men and women to see the world through the lens of Christ’s redeeming work.
         Thank you to our Association of Churches and to our community for 43 years of faithful support. It is our prayer, Lord willing, that we may continue partnering together — proclaiming Christ and educating our youth — for the next 40 years and beyond.
         As we continue through this Lenten season, may our focus remain not on what we give up, but on what Christ has given for us.
                  Remember that Jesus loves you and I love you too.