When I was a little kid, one of my earliest memories was one of my birthdays, where I was sitting cross-legged on the floor in my parents’ bedroom — the only room in the house with a digital clock. It was early morning and I couldn’t hold myself still, bouncing up and down with eager anticipation for when my friends would arrive for my birthday party in the afternoon. I stared at the clock (I think it was Thomas the Train Engine themed, because I was, after all, a kid of class), counting down the minutes until their arrival. It was similar to the feeling of being snug under cozy covers in bed on Christmas Eve, but not being able to sleep a wink because Christmas morning was so close. I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling there was something special about that excited expectation. Yet, once I got older, I found that my youthful anticipation, that longing spirit of wonder in life and its events, seemed to disappear.
The more reflection I did, the more I realized that I was especially lacking that in my faith. With no season of preparation, I found myself with no anticipation for the crucifixion of Jesus. This was not because I didn’t know Holy Week was approaching, but simply because my life got on fine without preparing for it. Growing up, Easter itself was a day of joy and celebration to me, but was ultimately treated as a flash in the pan. The day Jesus paid for our debts with his blood came across as unsatisfying. It felt cheap and short-lived, when the Son of God’s death is anything but. It wasn’t until coming to Biola that I truly began to grasp what Lent was and the importance of anticipation.
JOURNEY INTO THE DESERT
Lent is an early church tradition, initially intended for new converts being baptized on Easter Sunday who would imitate the 40 days that Jesus went into the desert to face temptation before his ministry. Ever since its conception, Lent is designed to prepare believers for the greatest act of love the world has ever witnessed. And yet, many of us — myself included — have treated Easter as just another day on the calendar, rather than joining in this liturgical season to anticipate the culmination of a sacred journey. The Passion of Christ, celebrated on Good Friday, and his resurrection on Easter Sunday, are not merely events that happened — they are patterns of living and being which we are called to participate in as Christians.
Anticipation is a lost grace in our common culture, despite our rich Christian tradition. We live in a time that promotes and prioritizes instant gratification: hunger is quickly satisfied, needs are met without delay and waiting is seen as a pesky disturbance. Dulled by distraction and ease, there is a temptation to now view patience as an inconvenience rather than a virtue. Patience is not mere passive loitering, but rather a beneficial and active form of long-suffering.
Lent is that intentional period of long-suffering, a much needed season of stretching our souls — a spiritual thaw between winter and spring. It serves as a reminder that there is beauty in waiting, in preparing, and in longing for something greater than our present moment. This dedicated time of discipline is one I’ve come to realize I desperately need. I embrace Lent so that I may appreciate Easter to the fullest.
TURNING OUR HEARTS TOWARD THE LORD
For those wanting the tangible ways to participate in this season of preparation, fast and give alms as you pray. Practice denying yourself and carrying you cross. Allow yourself to feel the lack, as you sacrifice creaturely comforts in the anticipation of the ultimate sacrifice of our Lord. Let this season before Easter be a time for us to remove our earthly excesses, stripping ourselves down so that we can open ourselves up to the Holy Spirit. Let us lower ourselves in humility so that we may meet Christ, who humbled himself first for our sake. Through the practice of Lent, we may reduce the world’s noise and become more alert to the still, small voice of the Lord.
We should be compelled to look upon Calvary with hopeful expectation once again. May the Cross prove to be an ever-living fountain that continues to spring forth in our lives rather than a mere, fleeting homage to a past victory. Let us walk in remembrance, enabling the past to be eternally present with us.
What are you currently anticipating in your life? Do you wait with dread or excitement? How do you wait for Christ?
This Easter season, don’t risk approaching the hallowed ground of the Cross without anticipation or pass it by without reflection. In the midst of these 40 days of Lent, don’t stop at mentally acknowledging it, have your day-to-day life tangibly transformed — your mind, your soul, and your body. So that when we come upon the stone rolled away from his empty grave, what has been forming within us all along will be awakened: an everlasting joy.
