I have already broken my Lenten fast. Yes, I am aware that Ash Wednesday was yesterday.

The truth is, I broke my Lenten fast about two hours after waking up on the first day of Lent. Having helped Debby get the kids out the door to go to school, I eased into my usual morning routine of straightening up the house before coming over to Trinity. Without even thinking of it I pulled out my smartphone, opened the YouTube app, and was contentedly listening to an episode of one of my regular shows while washing the breakfast dishes when I suddenly remembered: our family committed to fast from watching our individual screens in this season. Only a few hours in, and I'd broken my fast not as the result of any overpowering temptation but simply from force of habit!

We spend so much of our lives sleepwalking through our routines. We do many of the things we do not because we have actively chosen to do them or even because we necessarily desire to do them but because they have become merely habitual.

Now, a habit unto itself is a morally-neutral concept. Something is not automatically either wicked or worthy just because we happen to do it over and over again. Virtues can become habits just as vices can. But whether sanctifying or sullying, all habits begin with our choices.

You probably know that already. But knowing that our choices lead to habits is not always sufficient for changing our choices and our habits. Even if somewhere in the back of our minds we suspect that the choices we are making and the habits we are forming are not conducive to our full flourishing as creatures made in the image of God, redeemed by Jesus Christ, and called to holiness in the Spirit…well, who has the time really to think through the problem and make a change?

In Lent, we do. This season jolts us awake and snaps us back to awareness. It makes us mindful of our choices, big and small, and lets us really listen to what the Holy Spirit is saying in and through our bodies and souls. In these forty days the Church invites us to turn off the autopilot in our head–or at least to become aware of the fact that we are usually operating on autopilot. The practices we take on–prayer and fasting, study and self-examination, works of mercy and deeds of kindness–are not the source of salvation. That, of course, is God alone. But the spiritual disciplines of Lent are meant to renew our wonder at his mercy and our knowledge of our constant need for his grace.

So a failed Lenten discipline is nothing to fear, beloved, and a perfect fast is nothing of which to be particularly proud. The Church invites us to the spiritual work of this time in order to point us back to the One who has chosen us in Christ. Mindful of that inestimable election, may we be strengthened by his indwelling Spirit to walk in his paths and joyfully pursue habits of holiness.
 

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