Your Best Lent Ever: The Difference Between Demons and Disciples of Christ

By Devin Schadt

What Shall I Render to God?

John Hienen, owner of The Catholic Gentleman, said that often men treat Lent as though it is “extra credit,” as though we are being kind to God by offering Him a little extra.
How nice.

Lent is not an add-on feature, a bonus segment on a liturgical app, an extra rep, or an extra lap around the track.
Lent is essential.

You will only have so many Lents—perhaps seventy or eighty for those who are granted a longer life. “Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10)

Indeed, how many of these Lents have we embraced to the fullest?

Lent is your and my opportunity to give ourselves in return to God.

Unfortunately, the typical protocol is to select a renunciation that will not cost us too much, but perhaps just enough that it can be categorized as a Lenten offering.

We would do well to ask, as did the psalmist:

What shall I render to the Lord, for all the things He hath rendered unto me?
I will take the chalice of salvation; and I will call upon the name of the Lord.
I will pay my vows to the Lord before all His people:
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. (Psalm 116:12–15)

The sacred writer’s attitude is marked by relentless self-giving—a desire to be generous to God as God has been generous to him.

And this is where our Lenten journey begins—with this question: What has the Lord, the Almighty, rendered unto you?

Consider the psalmist’s words. What is your initial, instinctive response?

Is it something like, “Well, God hasn’t given me all that much—maybe a bunch of suffering…”?

Or is your response akin to, “He cannot be outdone in generosity—He is most giving and generous to me.”?

Notice that the psalmist believes that God has been so generous to him that to make a proper return is to offer his life—even in martyrdom to God (“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints”).

The Spirit Behind Your Lent

Lenten devotees generally fall into two camps: those who use Lent as a means for a personal end goal, and those who use Lent as an offering of themselves to God.

There is a vast difference between intention and consequence.

For example, a person could renounce alcohol, chocolate, or—even more daring—all things that contain sugar. Lent is his opportunity to withdraw from these things so that he can drop a couple of pounds and become more self-controlled.

His intention, however, is concerning himself.

He uses Lent—and God—for the betterment of himself.

The means is good (renunciation); the end is not the proper, ultimate end (self-betterment).

Another man may renounce the use of the same things with the intention of offering himself to God as a return for all that God has given unto him. Consequently, he may shed some weight; he may sleep better; he may have more energy—but that was not the goal.

This man’s intention and the means to execute it are both animated by God’s Spirit.

His intention is pure, and the consequence is God’s gift unto him.

Your intentions matter.

Frankly, I am sick and tired of scheming and strategizing to determine how I can benefit from something.
Indeed, I have already benefitted.
God has been immensely generous to me.

This Lent is my opportunity to do something—just for Him.

Penance: More Than Mechanical Mortifications

Repeatedly, our Lord Jesus, His apostles, and the prophets admonish us: “Unless you do penance, you will all likewise perish.” (Luke 13:3)

The Greek word for penance is metanoia, which is translated as making a radical change in direction, thinking, and understanding.
It is, as we say, “making a 180.”

It is a bold reversal, a reorientation of one’s life—a turning away from former selfish living to radical self-giving and service of God.

One can do penance without experiencing metanoia.
But one cannot experience metanoia without doing penance.

Penance is the expression of the inner attitude and reality of metanoia.

Penance is the renunciation of former immoral ways, the sacrificing of temporal idols, the offering up of and detachment from disordered attachments.

The Church offers us Lent as an opportunity for metanoia—not merely penitential acts.

Considering this, we are to approach Lent not so much with the question, “What should I give up?” (penitential acts), but rather, “What expresses true metanoia?” (turning away from sin, selfishness, and self-idolatry toward serving the self-giving God).

Removing Vice and Replacing the Void with Virtue

It is never enough, however, to remove vice only.

Recall our Lord’s parable regarding the person who was delivered of a demon:
The demon was exorcised from his house—the temple of his body—and he was, as our Lord said, “swept clean” (see Matthew 12:43–45; Luke 11:24–26).

Yet that damned demon roamed in arid regions looking for a new home, and finding none, gathered a band of seven demons more wicked than himself to fill that empty temple.

It is necessary that vice be removed; yet that is merely the first step.

Once vice is removed, it must be replaced with virtue, lest the demons of disordered attachment return to make that soul their haunt and home; “and the last state of that man is made worse than the first.” (Matthew 12:45)

This approach aligns with Christ’s admonition: “If you want to be My disciple, you must first deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me—then you will be My disciple.” (see Matthew 16:24)

Notice that the first step is to deny yourself. Literally, the Greek says, “Say no to yourself.”

Jesus commands that we say no to our false desires, our affinity for comfort, and our compromising with the world and its false maxims.

In other words, get rid of vice by doing penance.

Nevertheless, doing penance is not sufficient.

Our Lord proceeds to say that the second step—after removing vice by saying no to our inordinate desires—is to “take up your cross.”

Taking up one’s cross is both passive and active.

The cross is given by God to you.
It is your decision to receive that cross.

This is a passive gesture.
We receive what is given to us.

However, this passive receptivity becomes an active action by embracing the cross—taking it on, choosing to carry it as an act of love and gratitude to God for the sake of His glory and the salvation of souls.

In other words, fill the void of your soul with virtue. This is metanoia.
Only those who say no to themselves and yes to the cross are true disciples of Christ.

This is why Lent is essential and powerful: it creates a context for metanoia, without which we will not become true disciples of Jesus.

The Difference Between Demons and the Disciple of Christ

“For even the demons believe—and they shudder” (James 2:19), St. James warns us.

Notice that demons believe.

They also profess God’s power:
“I know who you are—the Holy One of God.” (Luke 4:34)

The demons render their petition unto Christ:
“And they begged Jesus repeatedly not to order them to go into the abyss.” (Luke 8:31)

They also bow in submission to God:
“And when he saw Jesus, he fell down before Him…” (Luke 8:28);
“And seeing Jesus afar off, he ran and adored Him.” (Mark 5:6)

Demons are also obedient to God:
“And Jesus immediately gave them leave. And the unclean spirits, going out, entered into the swine…” (Mark 5:13)

Notice that demons believe in God, petition God, submit to God, profess God, bow down, and worship God.
Many of us mistakenly believe that we are disciples of Christ because we believe God exists; because we submit to His teachings; because we profess Him in the Creed; because we worship Him in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass; and because we obey His precepts as transmitted by Holy Mother Church.

Yet, as Our Lord solemnly warns: “Not all who say, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will be saved, but only those who do the will of My Father.” (Matthew 7:21)
And again: “I assure you most solemnly, I do not know you.” (Matthew 25:12)

The spirit of metanoia—and therefore of Lent—is to know and do God’s holy will; and by knowing and doing God’s will, one knows God and is known by God.

As it is said: “Know the Cross—know Jesus; no cross—no Jesus.”

If our religious works are to be different from those of the demons, they must be animated and marked by sincere gratitude to God for all that He has given unto us.

Gratitude, expressed by a thanksgiving sacrifice (see Psalm 50), is what the demons lack and what defines the true son of God the Father and the true disciple of Jesus. Indeed, God rejoices in and receives such sacrifice.

This spirit of gratitude compels us to “give back,” to “take up the chalice of salvation”—that is, to drink from the cup of suffering that God permits—with gratitude.

We are to “call upon the Lord’s name,” that is, to invoke Abba, Father, with abandonment and trust—praying often as Jesus did, with the desire to know and fulfill His holy will.

We are to “pay our vows,” yes, by attending the Holy Sacrifice, but just as importantly, we are to become what we receive. We receive the sacrificial offering of Christ’s Body and Blood so that we may become a sacrificial offering for Christ. We are to embrace the hope of martyrdom by embracing the daily cross of white martyrdom.

How will you approach this Lent?

Will you use God for yourself, or use yourself for God?
What will be your intention?
To do penitential acts, or to live the spirit of metanoia marked by penance?
What vices will you say no to?
Which crosses, with fervor and gratitude to God, will you take up anew?
What vow will you make unto the Lord this Lent?
Will you fulfill it “in the presence of the great assembly”—the great cloud of witnesses, the saints—who cheer us on to victory? (see Hebrews 12:1)

Our Lord admonishes us: “Only he who perseveres to the end will be saved.” (Matthew 24:13)

Make this Lent your best Lent ever.
God only knows how many you have left.
Make your metanoia permanent.
Animate your penances with relentless gratitude to God for all that He has given to you.

Reprinted by partnership with The Fathers St. Joseph