Lent: Jesus' Triumphal Entry

Luke 19:28-44 begins with this statement: “After Jesus said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem” (19:28). So what did Jesus just say? He just told the parable about “a man of noble birth” who “went to a distant country to have himself appointed king and then to return” (Luke 19:11), and which ended with this statement: “But those enemies of mine who did not want to be king over them—bring them here and kill them in front of me” (19:27). When the disciples heard these statements, coupled with the fact that they were entering Jerusalem, they probably thought that the time has come for Jesus to sweep away the Romans and reclaim His rightful throne as the Messiah as soon as they enter Jerusalem.

The disciples were even greatly delighted when Jesus called two of them, and said, “I am sending two of you ahead, OK?” (19:29c). The other disciples who were seeing this should have been further hyped up. They knew something really momentous was about to happen. The instruction given to them was very clear: “Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here” (19:30). The instruction that the colt has never been ridden points to the fact that it would be used for sacred reasons. For instance, the instruction to the Israelites was that the red heifer (a young female cow) to be used in ceremonies of cleansing was to be one that had never bore a yoke (Num 19:2; Deut 21:3). Another instance is the cart on which the ark of the covenant was to be carried had to be one which had been used for any other purpose (1 Sam 6:7). When the disciples heard Jesus’ instructions, their suspicion about Jesus as the Messiah who will start something awesome at the capital was further intensified.

Even the fact that they had to borrow the donkey was actually giving a political signal. This was just common practice. When a political figure is arriving at a town, they would often borrow a mount to ride. For the people, it was such a privilege to have their horses or animals be used by a king or a prince or a general or a famous teacher riding to town (see Gen 49:10-11). This is how we can understand the next verses: “If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it.’ Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, ‘Why are you untying the colt?’ They replied, ‘The Lord needs it’” (19:31-34). And just like that, they obtained a colt. For the owner of the donkey, he was being given a rare privilege to have his animal ridden by an important person. Again, for the disciples, the fact the Jesus asked them to borrow a colt meant that Jesus thought of Himself as someone important riding into town.

If Jesus’ most immediate parable pointed to a king exercising authority and dominion, His command to secure an unridden donkey pointed to both a sacred task and a political statement. If we add the fact that they are now entering the royal capital city of Israel, we can understand how the disciples felt excited. Everything seemed to be in place. It was very clear to the disciples that Jesus was coming in to Jerusalem as the returning king.

Even the people were thinking precisely what the disciples were thinking. Their actions indicated that they saw Jesus as a royalty, and they welcomed Him as such: “They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road” (19:35-36). In other passages, “the people took palm branches” (John 12:13) “while others cut branches of trees and spread them on the road” (Matt 21:8). In Luke, the people “threw their cloaks” and “spread their cloaks on the road” (19:35-36). This spreading of cloaks was a Jewish custom of paying respect to royalty, something which their ancestors already did for King Jehu: “They quickly took their cloaks and spread them under him on the bare steps. Then they blew the trumpet and shouted, “Jehu is king!” (2 Kings 9:12-13). So the people were conscious of the fact that Jesus was king entering Jerusalem. They were even shouting praises to Him as king:

“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Luke 19:38)

“Blessed is the king of Israel!” (John 12:13)

“Hosanna to the Son of David!” (Matt 21:9)

The disciples, maybe walking alongside Jesus Christ, were really overjoyed. Their thoughts were being confirmed by the people. It was obvious that the people were thinking the same thing as them. Surely, this was a divine affirmation.

With all these festivities going on, Jesus’ reaction was quite extraordinary: “As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it” (19:41). Why did Jesus weep? Amidst all the attention and praise He was receiving from the people, why was the first recorded reaction that of grief? The clue to the answer is found in 19:29, where Jesus is said to have passed by Bethpage and Bethany, places which literally meant “House of Unripe Figs” and “House of Many Figs.” It would seem as if He was going to Jerusalem to find out whether Jerusalem was either a house of unripe figs or a house of many figs. And when we read of Jesus finding a fig tree that does not even have a single fruit, Jerusalem is portrayed neither as a house of unripe figs nor a house of many figs, but a house of fruitless figs (Matt 21:18-19; Mark 11:13-14). Jesus wept because He found Jerusalem a fruitless city.

But also, Jesus was weeping because like His words to Peter, He found that the citizens of Israel did not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns (Mark 8:33). When Jesus was entering Jerusalem, what Jesus was thinking was different from what the disciples and the people were thinking. “As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it,” and said, ‘If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes’” (19:41-42).

Obviously, Jesus wept because He saw that Jerusalem was barren. But He was also grieved because the people of Israel were looking for peace. He knew that they felt oppressed. He knew that they were crying out for freedom. He knew their hearts’ desires. He knew that they wanted peace more than anything else. When they saw Jesus Christ, they saw a faint ray of light, that maybe the Messiah has come to bring peace. This was why they shouted: “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” (19:38).

But Jesus was grieved. In response to their shouts for peace, He said: “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes” (19:42). At least the people and Jesus Christ were thinking about one same thing: peace. The difference was on how such a peace will be obtained for them. The Jews were looking for peace, but for them, true peace meant the overthrow of their political oppressors. They did not recognize that the path of peace is through self-less sacrifice, not revengeful rebellion. The peace the Jews envisioned was a peace obtained through shedding the blood of their enemies. They did not recognize that the path of peace is through the blood of the Lamb. The peace they were looking for is achieved through violence; the peace that Jesus brings is achieved through sacrifice. The peace the Jews wanted was the absence of external control. They did not recognize that the kingdom is about submission to the will of God.

What the disciples were thinking was different from what Jesus was thinking.

What the people were thinking was different from what Jesus was thinking.

The irony is that when the Prince of Peace went to Jerusalem, they opposed Him with violence. In the words of Jesus, they “did not recognize the time of God’s coming” to them (Luke 19:44). What Jesus did in Galilee and Samaria—healing the sick, setting people free from oppression (of demons), preaching the kingdom, and offering forgiveness—these are the same things that He wanted to do for the people of Jerusalem. But unfortunately, the people did not recognize the time of God’s coming in their midst. The people had their own agenda, and they were not willing to listen and obey God’s agenda. They preferred to follow their corrupted visions of salvation, so they were blind when God was acting in their midst.

The same is probably true about us. We have our own agenda. We have our own desires. We want to achieve these things and we want to use Jesus to attain them. But Jesus retaliates. He escapes our grasps. He moves in His own mysterious ways. But even in the midst of all these misunderstandings and misjudgments, God shows His lavish grace. He still brings peace to violent people.

He entered Jerusalem to bring peace, because it was peace that the people were looking for. Five days from now, we will celebrate Good Friday, when we will commemorate what He did to “reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross” (Col 1:20). This is the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, for even though the people did not understand Him, and the people did not receive Him, and the people crucified Him, and yet in His love and mercy, He willingly went to the cross (Isa 53:7; Acts 8:32) so that through Him, we have peace with God (Rom 5:1). The number of people was quite astonishing. How did such a great number of people gather? John 12:17-18 explains: “The crowd that was with him when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to spread the word. ¹⁸ Many people, because they had heard that he had performed this sign, went out to meet him.”

Lent: Prayer and Commitment

Since the season of Lent is our preparation for the commemoration and celebration of the death and resurrection of Christ, we must engage in prayer. (For a sermon on Lent and Fasting, see here.) This is all the more so because the forty days of Lent is actually patterned after the forty days of Jesus’ prayer and fasting in the wilderness immediately after His baptism and before His public ministry.

Since we are dealing with prayer, we are going to look at Jesus Christ. I do not know any better approach. The Gospels portray Jesus as a man of prayer. He prayed at his baptism (Luke 3:21-22), in the morning before heading to Galilee (Mark 1:35-36), after healing people (Luke 5:15), all night before choosing His 12 disciples (Luke 6:12-13), while speaking to the Jewish leaders (Matt 11:25-26), giving thanks to the Father before feeding the 5000 (Matt 14:19; Mark 6:41; Luke 9:16; John 6:11), before walking on water (Matt 14:22; Mark 6:46; John 6:15), while healing a deaf and mute man (Mark 7:31-37), giving thanks to the Father before feeding the 4000 (Matt 15:36; Mark 8:6-7), before Peter called Jesus “the Christ” (Luke 9:18), at the return of the seventy (Luke 10:21), before teaching His disciples the Lord’s Prayer (Luke 11:1), before raising Lazarus from the dead (John 11:41-42), for little children (Matt 19:13-15; Mark 10:13-16; Luke 18:15-17), that His name be glorified (John 12:27-28), at the Lord’s Supper (Matt 26:26; Mark 14:22-23; Luke 22:19), for Himself, for his disciples, and all believers (John 17:1-26), “Father forgive them…” (Luke 22:34), “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Matt 27:46; Mark 15:34), “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Luke 23:46), for blessing on the bread (Luke 24:30), and is praying even now for us (Rom 8:34; Heb 7:25; 9:24; 1 John 2:1).

But here, we are going to look at the well-known story at the garden of Gethsemane, when He prayed in deep anguish the night before His crucifixion. We will read Matthew 26:36-45:

Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.” When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing. Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come, and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners.

This part of the life of Jesus Christ is quite fascinating. Many church theologians and bishops from the early church used this passage to highlight the humanity of Christ. Indeed, we see in the story the sheer humanity and vulnerability of Jesus Christ. He weeps like all of us. He cries in agony. In Luke 22:44, it even says that in His sorrow, “His sweat become like drops of blood.”

The Strength of Jesus Christ

The title might appear inappropriate, considering that the story paints Jesus Christ as a human filled with sorrow and grief. The descriptions that Jesus gives about himself in the passage portray His extreme vulnerability: “he began to be sorrowful and troubled” (26:37) and “my heart is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (26:39). Even His commands indicate that at that very moment He was in need of friends who can comfort him: “stay here and keep watch with me” (26:38). There was also a hint of disappointment and irritation in His words: “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” (26:40) and “Are you still sleeping and resting?” (26:45).

But strength is displayed precisely in the midst of weakness.

In the same moments when He was deeply troubled, He was able to pray the difficult prayer “Your will be done” (26:39, 42, 44). This prayer is so simple and basic, but its meaning is profound and its implications are far-reaching. When Jesus prayed this line, it meant that God’s will be done even though He knew it would cost Him pain, even though what God required was death, even though it would not bring any good to Him or give Him earthly rewards, even though the whole nation will taunt and mock Him, even though His closest friends will betray, deny, and desert Him, and even though He would appear like a defeated fool.

This is the strength of Jesus.

The temptation looming over Him to abandon His mission was very appealing. Jesus was sent by the Father (John 3:16-17; 7:28-29) to accomplish something, and the fulfilment was about to come true. He knew about His purpose. He knew that He is the Suffering servant prophesied in the Scriptures (Isa 53:1-7). He knew that He would die, and He made quite an effort to reveal this fact to His disciples (Matt 16:21-28; 20:17-19; Mark 8:31-38; 10:32-34; Luke 18:31-33). We see in our story that He was sorrowful. We can even say that there was reluctance in His tone: “if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me” (26:39, 42).

We can learn from Jesus’ prayer that we need to pray about the things we have previously committed to God. The temptation is always there that we will abandon our commitments. When Jesus asked His disciples, “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation” (26:41), the word used for temptation was similar to the one used in the Lord’s Prayer (Matt 6:13). The word refers to the “final, decisive test that accompanies the coming of God’s kingdom” (cf Rev 3:10).[1] Like Jesus, we are tempted to abandon our commitment for the kingdom! How often have we made that prayer of commitment to serve and evangelize, and yet we are still not serving or evangelizing? We must pray, Jesus said, so that we are given strength to enact those commitments we have already made to God.

Jesus prayed because He was feeling weak and troubled. Jesus was at the verge of abandoning His commitment and mission. He needed to communicate to God His fear, His anxiety, His sorrow. Without prayer, our commitments to God can easily be forgotten. Obedience is not a one-time decision. In fact, Jesus was not content to pray once; He prayed the same prayer three times (26:39, 42, 44). Sometimes we have to utter the same prayers many times. We have to renew our covenant with God every day.

One Sunday morning, a husband was violently woken up by his wife. It was already 9AM, and they have to be at church by 10AM. The husband did not rise from the bed. Instead he lazily pulled up the blanket to cover his entire body. The wife pulled the blanket away, and asked: “What’s wrong? You realize it is Sunday, right?” The husband replied, “Yeah, I know, but I don’t want to go to church today. Can we skip going just this once?” The wife was surprised and said, “No, we have to go to church!” The husband replied, “OK. Give me three good reasons why I should go to church today?” The wife happily obliged and said: “First, God wants us to be with His people in worship today. Secondly, our children will miss Sunday school. And finally, you are the pastor of the church.”

The Weakness of the Disciples

Whether we like it or not, we are less like Jesus and more like the disciples in the story. First, we are prone not to pray. Jesus’ statement is apt: “the spirit is willing but the body is weak” (26:41). Jesus asked the disciples to pray three times, and He was disappointed three times too. Not only were they not praying, they were sleeping (26:40, 43, 45). The third time, He asked them with a stern rebuke: “Are you still sleeping and resting?” (26:45).

Secondly, we are prone to abandon our commitments. The contrast between Jesus and the disciples cannot be missed. The mention of three specific disciples in the story—Peter, James, and John (26:37)—seems purposeful, considering how these three fellows were the ones who were closest to Jesus Christ and were the ones who made great commitments to Jesus Christ. Peter was someone who voiced what was in his mind quite impulsively. He made strong verbal commitments to Jesus: “Lord, why can I not follow You right now? I will lay down my life for you” (John 13:37) and “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death” (Luke 22:33). The two sons of Zebedee, James and John, had a somewhat related story. When Jesus asked, “Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?” they confidently responded “We can” (Mark 10:38-39). But the same three disciples who made these statements were the same people who, in the last hours of Jesus’ life, failed miserably. At Gethsemane, they were not even asked to lay down their lives or drink Jesus’ cup; they were asked simply to stay and pray. Sure, they stayed, but did not pray (26:38-40).

We, like the disciples, are weak human beings. Our spirits are willing. Our minds are willing. Our hearts are willing, But our wills are weak. We can make commitments and covenants with God every time we hear a sermon, but we often times fail to carry through those commitments.

Like Jesus, we can be tempted to abandon our mission and calling for fear of suffering, for fear of the future, or for self-preservation. When Jesus experienced these, He “fell with his face to the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will’” (26:39). Then He repeated the same prayer three times. If we are experiencing weakness, we must go back to the Father, fall on our knees and pray. And we should do this as often as we can.

We may have made commitments this Lenten season to fast. Are you experiencing trouble or weakness? Why don’t we go to the garden of Gethsemane and pray “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will” (26:39)? Have you made commitments in the past that you have not yet accomplished or have already abandoned? Let us go to the garden of Gethsemane and pray “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will” (26:39).

Are you struggling with something that God is asking you to do? Are you weakened or full of doubt? Let us make this sanctuary the garden of Gethsemane, and pray “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will” (26:39).

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[1] Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1991), 373.

Lent: Self-Denial and Fasting

Lent is the six weeks before and leading to Easter. The observance and celebration of Lent is meant to encourage believers to engage in reflection as we prepare our hearts and lives in approaching the Holy Week.

One of the usual practices during the season of Lent undertaken by Christians all over the world is fasting. As a part of the worldwide church, it is fitting that we learn about this practice so that we may join our brothers and sisters all around the world in this important spiritual exercise.

As we prepare for the commemoration of the death of Jesus Christ on the cross, we are to heed the call uttered by the prophet Joel to the Israelites. The prophet Joel ministered even before the time of Jeremiah or Ezekiel. This means that the Israelites were not yet in exile. However, they were surrounded by powerful nations and empires, and they knew that their lives would be affected by the conflicts among these nations. The prophet Joel painted the picture of the coming invasion of Judah by using the analogy of a swarm of locust. The aftermath of the invasion will not be a good sight (Joel 1:10-12):

The fields are ruined, the ground is dried up;
the grain is destroyed, the new wine is dried up,
    the olive oil fails.

Despair, you farmers,
    wail, you vine growers;
grieve for the wheat and the barley,
    because the harvest of the field is destroyed.
The vine is dried up and the fig tree is withered;
the pomegranate, the palm and the apple tree—
    all the trees of the field—are dried up.
Surely the people’s joy is withered away.

It is in the context of this prophecy that Joel calls the people to humble themselves before God in prayer and fasting (Joel 1:13-14):

Put on sackcloth, you priests, and mourn;
wail, you who minister before the altar.

Come, spend the night in sackcloth,
you who minister before my God;
for the grain offerings and drink offerings
are withheld from the house of your God.

Declare a holy fast;

call a sacred assembly.
Summon the elders
and all who live in the land
to the house of the Lord your God,
and cry out to the Lord.

The essence of fasting is self-denial. It is not really the mere fact of abstinence. The call to fast is the call to abandon our needs for the sake of something else. In the passage, and in consideration of the situation of Joel and the Israelites, three important lessons can be discerned about fasting.

To Fast is to Transcend the Logical

God’s call for the Israelites to engage in fasting or to not eat was completely illogical. It actually seemed counterproductive. It must be remembered that the problem of the Israelites was that there was war going on around them, and that they were implicated in it whether they liked it or not. It did not matter who will win the war between the two biggest empires of the time: Assyria and Babylon. They were pretty sure that whoever won the war would expand their territory, and that Israel would certainly be an appetizing target.

In this sort of situation, the most logical advice would be for them to prepare for war. The call to abstain from food just did not make sense. How can becoming physically weaker a solution to their fears? Yahweh should have said: “Gather all the iron you can find. Melt them and let the blacksmiths labor day and night. Fortify the walls, all you who are young and old. Create a training center to hone every able person to handle a sword. Gather as much supplies as you can: grain, water, and fruits.” But Yahweh did not issue these commands. Instead, He commanded them to fast. Such was definitely an illogical war strategy.

Yahweh was calling His people to have faith. Throughout the history of Israel, Yahweh has always called His people to put their faith, trust, and confidence in Him alone. He commissioned Gideon to defeat the Midianites with only 300 soldiers. The manner of selection was based on how one would drink. Then instead of arming the 300 soldiers with swords and spears, Gideon gave them trumpets (Jud 7:1-25). Similarly, in order to take down the mighty wall of Jericho, he asked Joshua to blow trumpets and sing songs. Instead of the army commander to lead the way, the people who were in front were priests carrying not weapons but the ark of the covenant. Instead of firing arrows, they were to shout (Josh 6:1-27). In both these instances, God was asking His people to trust Him. As the writer of Proverbs calls us today: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” (Prov 3:5-6).

To Fast is to Transcend the Self

One of the core messages of fasting is this: “It’s not all about me and what’s best for me or what’s my need.” When we fast, we transcend the me-centeredness that is so entrenched in our human selves. Fasting is only meaningful when we abstain from the things that we need (like food and water) and from the things that are so dear to us (like make up, pleasure, dessert, etc.). Fasting sometimes entails abstaining from even good and healthy things.

To deny one’s self does not mean hiding our identities or suppressing our desires. In fact, self-denial requires the courage to face who we truly are and the honestly to admit what we really want in life. Whether our desires are honorable or embarrassing, we must be ready to admit the innermost contents of our dreams and aspirations, and be true to ourselves. It is only when we recognize what is dear to us do we truly understand what it means to deny ourselves. To paraphrase Bob Michaels,

I will not fast from anything that costs me nothing
I’ll sacrifice nothing less than my favorite best
‘Coz If I’m called to sacrifice
It will be worthy of my Christ
I will not fast from anything that costs me nothing

When we fast, we deny ourselves of the things that we know are so important to us. This, of course, is not easy. Why? Because we are prone to follow our desires, we love ourselves, we have the ability to do and get what we want; and we are surrounded by temptations. Even our peers can be primary tempters.

We live in a consumerist world, where self-indulgence is the order of the day. Hence, the call to fasting and self-denial somewhat sounds strange to our ears. The call to self-denial is totally “against the flow” today, because the world we live in actually encourages us to do the opposite. The world wants us and compels us not to deny ourselves but to engorge in more things. We see advertisements everywhere—on TV, on billboards, on the web—about bigger burgers and pizzas, or bigger homes and cars, or bigger entertainment sets, etc. More and more things are invented these days, and people are getting really creative about what to sell. More and more beauty products go out of the market every day. It is no wonder why a lot of ladies (and some men) look absolutely ridiculous for wearing more make-up than what is really needed. Some even have whiter faces than their necks!

In our consumerist culture, we are no longer surprised that the world is filled with addicts: sex addicts, drug addicts, TV addicts, alcohol addicts, tobacco addicts, games addicts, food addicts, etc. Addiction is a state that nobody willfully decides to be in. It begins with one small act—sometimes just out of curiosity—and develops overtime into something that enslaves people’s minds and habits.  The bad news is that no one is exempted from the tendency towards addiction. We can easily become an addict (if not already). This is why, from time to time, we must fast. We must deny ourselves our basic rights and privileges. It is only when we do this do we transcend our animalistic and survival instincts. It is only when we do this do we transcend ourselves.

To Fast is to Transcend the Present

Fasting is not an end in itself. It is a spiritual exercise that has a deeper underlying significance and purpose. When we fast, we deny ourselves of our present needs and wants, not because we are masochists, but because we want to prepare ourselves for greater things.

The principle is extremely simple: If we cannot deny ourselves with little things in the present, how can we even think of denying ourselves in obedience to a greater demand from God someday? For instance, how can we say Yes to God if he calls us to something with less economic support, if we can’t even give our full tithe today? How can we say Yes to God if he calls us to full-time ministry, if we are not willing to give up some things momentarily? How can we truly surrender ourselves to God completely, if we do not know how to surrender a few things in our lives? How can we say No to the big temptations in life, if we are not able to say No to small and basic temptations? To rephrase Jesus’s statement in Luke 16:10, “Whoever can sacrifice very little can also sacrifice much, and whoever cannot sacrifice very little cannot also sacrifice much.”

It is important to practice denying ourselves now, transcending our present needs, because God may have in mind to call us someday to full-time ministry. If we try our best to avoid suffering today, we will always avoid suffering, even at the cost of disobeying God. We must wake up to this reality. As human beings who are still learning, we must admit that self-denial and surrender is a gradual experience. We grow into it. We mature into it. Fasting teaches us about our ongoing and renewing surrender to God.

There is truth in a line from the 2007 Bee Movie, when the tour guide said, “you have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life.” In terms of self-denial, we can say: “we have fasted our whole life to get to the point where we can fast our whole life.”

But even if we are not called to do a ginormous thing in the future, we must still pursue self-denial in the little things. In our everyday lives, we are rarely called to do great and important things. In our everyday lives, we are often called to do and accomplish the littlest things. As we interact with people, hear their stories, and see their lives, we are always summoned to small sacrifices: may these be a sacrifice of time, resources, strength, effort, and the like.

Conclusions

We are going to commemorate the death of our Lord Jesus Christ on the cross. He made the greatest sacrifice there. As we approach that day, shall we also begin practicing self-denial? Just for six weeks, Christians should engage in fasting, and this is not limited to abstaining from food. We can give up anything for the next six weeks and make a covenant with God that we are not going to taste such and such in that period of time. I know people who gave up going to fast-food chains, or going to fancy restaurants, or going on a leisure trip, or not using the aircon, or not driving. I know people who gave up cosmetics (but please do not give up taking a bath). I know people who gave up certain food, like ice cream, chocolate, or going to Starbucks. Some people give up meat, and only eat vegetables for six weeks.

  

What are you going to give up?

It is quite interesting that great people in the Bible fasted before embarking on something grand. Moses fasted forty days in preparation for receiving the Ten Commandments (Exo 34:28). The Israelites fasted three days before meeting God at Mt. Sinai (Exo 19:14). The prophet Daniel fasted for three weeks before receiving his vision (Dan 10:2-6). Elijah the prophet fasted forty days before God spoke to him (1 Kings 19:8). And we all know that Christ our Savior fasted for forty days in preparation for His temptation by the devil and for the beginning of His ministry (Mt 4:1-11, Lk 4:1-13).