“[Jacob] loved Joseph more than any other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he had made him a long robe with sleeves. But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him.” (Genesis 37:3-4)

Giving something up for Lent is an enduring tradition across many Christian denominations. It’s easy to go astray, though, in what exactly we choose to give up for the duration. I can think of a couple of parallel mistakes I’ve made in my past Lenten fasting that have blunted the spiritual impact of the practice:

1. Giving up something long-term with Lent as a mere pretext – the “40 days to forever” approach
2. Giving up something sinful/harmful with every intention of coming back to it post-Easter – “detox just to retox”.

Erring in both directions has guided me, in a very practical way, to a happy middle ground: setting aside something unquestionably good and beloved for those 40 days, seeing what newfound joys can be cultivated in that absence, and finally uniting those new joys to the old ones in the light of the Resurrection.

But what exactly does this have to do with Joseph and his coat of many colors? Think about the story not from the perspective of Joseph, the envied, or his brothers, the envious, but instead as Jacob – the one whose imbalanced attention drives the envy. Jacob deeply loves his son Joseph – an undeniably holy thing! – and yet his favoritism drives his other sons to attempt to dispose of Joseph entirely. How often are we like Jacob, allowing someone or something that we find easier to love to suck up all the oxygen in the room while paying short shrift to other equally deserving objects of our attention? If that dynamic is familiar to you, perhaps you also relate to the consequences where all the things we neglect have a way of coming together and asserting their presence whether we like it or not.  

This story, then, provides an instructive example for our observance of Lent. We have the chance to take a step back, identify areas where we may be letting our joys steer us rather than the other way around, and work with intentionality to nurture what we otherwise might have allowed to wither. And if we get it right, we will not have to wait years and years to be reunited with our beloved, as Jacob did before finding Joseph again in Egypt – 40 days in cooperation with God’s grace will do the trick.

[NOTE: This piece was written based on an assigned piece of Scripture for a collection of 40 Lenten reflections by the parishioners of St. Catherine’s Episcopal Church.]