Giving Up Lent for Lent: We All Need a Good Rest

Yesterday’s Ash Wednesday observance marked the beginning of the Lenten season. Clergy and laity rushed around, preparing burnt palms while keeping both eyes focused squarely on the Lenten journey ahead.  

My participation in the Lenten season has varied as a clergy person for almost three decades. The tradition of giving something up has often been a part of my journey. 

But I have also tried, on some occasions, to add spiritual disciplines to my daily routine. Both have been remarkably rewarding and challenging at the same time.

However, this year, I need to admit something. I am exhausted.  

I have decided neither to give up anything nor add a spiritual discipline. I am taking a different tactic altogether.  

Here is the scripture I am claiming this Lenten season. The passage is a quote from Jesus, as he looked across the crowds and recognized those weary faces: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Jesus’ invitation for rest sounds absolutely divine right now.

Yet, the kind of rest I need has nothing to do with more sleep or burnout from work. Physically, I feel fine. It is, instead, the spiritual and mental weightiness pushing down on me right now.

Honestly, I need a rest from the world’s chaos. From the potential of facing another four years of a Trump presidency to global wars with thousands dying each day, my heart and soul find themselves on the brink of collapse.

My resolve remains intact, but I can start to feel the anxiety building. More and more these days, I find myself staring at a screen, searching for something meaningful to write. With all the dangers in the world right now, it is almost impossible to write about hope.  

At times, the daunting task of offering some optimism gives way to me closing my eyes and conversing with the divine to maintain my sanity and calm my nerves. And, from what I am reading and hearing, I am not alone.

Last year, CNN reported that America’s mental health crisis could jeopardize the very democracy we cherish. Seven of the previous U.S. Surgeons General met at Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire, last year to discuss the growing problem.

President Donald Trump’s surgeon general, Dr. Jerome Adams, said: “I have to look at my three teenagers every day and know that I’m not handing them a better world, and I’m not handing them a better world that was left to me. And a lot of that is because of our failure to really focus on mental health and to do the hard things that it’s actually going to take to overcome this mental health crisis that we’re in.”

Clergy are even more susceptible to mental health issues.  The Hartford Institute of Religion Research has reported that a 2023 survey revealed, “More than 4 in 10 of clergy surveyed in fall 2023 had seriously considered leaving their congregations at least once since 2020 when the COVID-19 pandemic began, and more than half had thought seriously of leaving the ministry.”  

The institute concluded, “The high rates of ministers considering quitting reflects the ‘collective trauma’ that both clergy and congregants have experienced since 2020.”  

One pastor even remarked: “I am exhausted. People have moved away from the area, and new folks are fewer, farther, and slower to engage. Our regular volunteers are tired and overwhelmed.”

The pastor’s reflections echo much of what I hear from my clergy colleagues today. While I am not considering giving up all hope for Lent this year, as my oldest son told me one year long ago, I am contemplating giving up Lent for Lent this year.  

I am not suggesting we ignore this sacred and beautiful season. The Lenten journey certainly has a lot of meaning and purpose. However, I am simply and honestly asking if we need a break this year.  

We have gone through a lot over the last four years and are facing an even greater danger in the future. So maybe, just maybe, we need to take a breath and close our eyes before the real craziness begins.  

Moreover, we need Jesus to show up this Lenten season and carry our burdens for a few weeks to find some rest for the long journey ahead. And here’s the rub: Maybe Jesus has already shown up—but not in the form we think. Maybe Jesus sent someone to us—or is sending us to someone else— to help during these trying days.  

The reality of the Lenten season is that the journey is not a solo trek made by one person. It’s a collective journey made by our fellow travelers.  

So, if you see someone struggling along the Lenten road this year, make sure to give them some encouragement. We all need it!

So maybe I’m not giving up on Lent after all. Maybe I am giving up on the idea that Lent is an individual sojourn.  

Maybe I am just being honest in recognizing I need my people for support, and maybe, just maybe, they need me.