I still remember the first time I decided to try giving something up for Lent. Since I was from an entirely different church tradition, it felt awkward and unnatural. Being a college student, I was also at the age when many of my peers would spend their spring breaks partaking in their newfound freedom and enjoying the pleasures of overindulgence. Many might give up unarguably already “bad” things like junk food or sugar – things that might be wise to remove from one’s diet anyway. But as I experimented with sacrificing something “good,” I found opportunities to depend on the Lord for something better.
Though that first lent was imperfect, I did find value in it. Enough value, perhaps, to continue in each year following. Something was centering and grounding about the season of Lent. Though it might not be considered enjoyable to practice self-denial, it created space in the distracting arenas of my life–space for a fuller experience of God. In the liturgy of less, it actually opened my eyes to more. If you’re feeling the need to simplify your life, the following ideas will equip you with ways to experience this same spiritual “less is more” reality.
Are Our Desires Too Weak?
Many of us are familiar with one of the most popular C.S. Lewis quotes, “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
In the Christian practice of self-denial, the goal is not suppression or torturous asceticism. It’s true that there is a version of self-denial that is unhealthy and twisted to feed our pride, self-sufficiency, or self-hatred. As Lewis affirms, however, our desires for good things are often too weak, and we settle for unworthy pleasures and unfulfilling vices. A healthy sense of letting go can bring balance into these behaviors.
We often approach discussions of sacrifice and self-denial with a somber attitude. There is certainly a time and place for this gravity, but these topics don’t require this constant seriousness. In fact, I think there is a lightheartedness we have neglected to consider. In the living hope of Christ, the somberness of sin, death, and sacrifice is far outweighed by greater, and more fulfilling wonders. Therefore, the act of giving up is actually an act of “making-way” for greater joys and pleasures we have failed to notice and enjoy.
How to Behave as Creatures Made for Heaven
The famous C.S. Lewis quote shown above was written in The Weight of Glory. This was a recent discovery of mine when a discussion about the emphasis on glory in John 17 prompted a curiosity about Lewis’ perspective on the topic. In my inquiry, I found that his well-loved quote, while incredible on its own, was included within an even greater context of beautiful rhetoric. It’s this greater context that I feel might help us understand the topic of this post: the place that our “longing for Heaven” has within our self-denial. The quote I’ve included below is a weaving-together of his main points in this argument, excluding some of his asides and examples. Hopefully, this succintity will allow us to remain on topic, rather than getting lost in his explanation. C.S. Lewis says,
“Now, if we are made for heaven, the desire for our proper place will be already in us, but not yet attached to the true object, and will even appear as the rival of that object. … In speaking of this desire for our own far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence … Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter. … But all this is a cheat. … The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire, but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.”
The Simplicity of Joy
Have you ever spent a day at the beach or an afternoon in the park – completely away from your phone and other life distractions? These moments tend to bring both contented peace and mental clarity. It allows us to reconnect with our bodies, to feel the simple joys of being in tune with our senses, and to actually hear our own thoughts without having them drowned out by the constant influx of global commentary.
This is the purpose of giving up. This is why the uncomplicated philosophy of Marie Kondo felt so revolutionary. We experience more joy with less distraction. This includes less clutter, fewer notifications, less busyness, fewer life demands, and fewer vices that make it easy to shut down or shut out. We need to stop settling for pleasures that don’t really bring us joy, rest, or peace. They will burn you out and swallow you whole.
Placing Heaven-Sized Hopes on Earth-Bound Blessings
Though we all have unhealthy habits, most growing believers don’t live lives that are overwhelmed with raging intoxication or malicious intent. Instead, Christians often fill their lives with virtuous endeavors and God-given gifts that, in themselves, could not be considered harmful, until it’s revealed that we’ve placed heaven-sized hopes in earth-bound blessings.
Thus, our spiritual and emotional overconsumption is displayed through filled-up calendars, endless digital doomscrolling, incessant media-streaming, hurried ministry involvement, or even an overindulgence in community that chokes out time for communion with our first Love.
Though the goodness of each blessing is undeniable, it is meant to capture our hearts with the even greater goodness of God. When our minds feel cluttered with good things, we need to press “pause” and take a deep breath again, setting the treasures aside so we don’t become like dragons guarding our lair, but instead can walk humbly and confidently into the throneroom of our King and Father.
So, Christ’s teaching on fasting and sacrifice (and even repentance and confession) is not meant to weigh us down, but rather to lift the burden from our shoulders so we can experience His light and easy yoke.
Practical Liturgies of Less to Try
If you’ve been feeling overburdened, overworked, or overwhelmed lately, here are some liturgies to less you can practice to lift your eyes and reignite your longing for more:
Fasting and Prayer
Simplify your life by removing something you often go to for comfort or fulfillment. In the moments of hunger or longing for this thing, depend on God through extra prayer. Fast from:
- A specific meal
- A treat or snack
- A crutch, like caffeine or sugar
- Your phone
- Social media
- TV & movie streaming
- Video games or app usage
Take on a Sacrificial Spiritual Practice
Rather than giving a specific thing up, simplifying your schedule might mean you make intentional time for meaningful tasks, which may limit the time you waste or fill with other activities.
- Get up an hour earlier to pray or read Scripture
- Create time for a more extended Bible study than you typically do
- Make space for a self-sacrificial service project
- Practice self-sacrificial generosity by giving extra money to a church or nonprofit
- Donate stuff you like, but don’t need to charity (not just the stuff you don’t want)
- Try a “no spend” month where you only spend money on bare necessities, but no extras
Be Intentional About Timing
Practicing self-sacrifice for a longer period of time can reveal your limits, pushing you into greater dependence on the Lord rather than reverting to self-sufficiency in a shorter-term sacrifice.
- Try giving up something for a whole day, week, or month
- Ask God if there’s something He wants you to give up for this season of life
- Try observing the practice of Lent, which is 40 days long
- Set boundaries for yourself, like time limits on phone or social media usage each day
Practice Stewardship
- Find an item in your home that needs a little TLC, and clean it or fix it as an act of worship, gratitude, and stewardship
- Give new life to an old object by painting or refinishing it rather than buying something new
- Find something in your pantry that hasn’t been used, and cook or bake a treat or meal for a friend
- Identify an item that requires more mental energy to keep and manage than the benefit you receive from owning it. Throw it out or give it away, trusting that God will provide.
Practice Gratitude
- Identify a few items in your home that you’re grateful for and praise God for them. Ask how you can use them to their fullest potential and give them a new life, rather than wanting more or better things.
- Say a quick prayer before you pick up your phone or turn on your TV, thanking God for the gift of entertainment and asking God to help align your desires with His.
- Implement small prayers before meals, treats, rest, or little luxuries throughout your day to help realign your heart with His and remind yourself that all blessings are from Him.
Prone to Wander, Lord We Feel It
In the great and well-loved hymn, Come Thou Fount, the writer, Robert Robinson started with the lyrics: “Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy praise.” The song was written to declare that God is the source of all our earthly blessings. But nearing the end of this beautiful melody, he acknowledges the great challenge we face when we have “too much of a good thing.”
He writes, “Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Here’s my heart, oh take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.”
As C.S. Lewis has such a way of explaining, we have a built-in longing for heaven. We crave a home we’ve never yet been to, and often feel a dull homesickness even when surrounded with great blessings. It is the human way to fill our lives with good things that end up distracting our minds and bodies. We are so prone to wander…and we feel it. But rather than drowning ourselves in self-condemnation or punishing ourselves with self-denial, the practice of self-sacrifice can de-burden our shoulders and reignite our longing for more. These liturgies of less are designed to tune our hearts to sing His praise and experience His vibrant joy in a burnt-out world.