Two Truths and a Lie for Lent
Author: Chuck King
February 19, 2026
You’ve probably played this mixer/ice-breaker game: A person on the hot seat makes three statements about themself; one is untrue. Everyone else has to guess which statement is not true. The strategy is to offer a fabrication that sounds plausible—better yet, a truth that is so outrageous it couldn’t possibly be true!
I thought of this game in light of my experience with the season of Lent. Ready to play? Here are my three statements:
- I grew up in a minority population in a rural Michigan town.
- I briefly studied for the Orthodox priesthood.
- I wrestled heavyweight in Junior High and High School.
Statement #2 is not true: It might have appealed to me in some respect—Orthodox priests have great liturgical garments, and are generally married—except for the important issue of their theology … plus, I can’t grow a beard.
I did grow up in a minority population. Bronson, Michigan, was at the time about 80 percent Polish Catholic. Being neither Polish nor Catholic meant that a lot of my friends’ experiences were foreign to me. This was especially true during the season of Lent. My friends gave up something every year. This practice may have been sincere some of the time, but by high school it seemed to me more like a game, if not a joke. The idea of a spiritual discipline never quite registered.
And, boy, could I have used some spiritual discipline, especially in my teen years! I came to know Jesus when I was fifteen. Discipled in a Bible-teaching church, I learned to read the Bible. I began to learn to pray. I shared my faith with friends and invited them to our gospel-focused youth group. I gave up some habits and practices that interfered with my spiritual growth. As we would have said at that time, the disciplined Christian life is an all-year exercise, not a six-week sacrifice.
Which brings me to Statement #3: I really could have used some discipline as it came to treating my body as a temple of the Holy Spirit. It is possible to wrestle heavyweight and be fit and healthy (and most serious heavyweights are), but I wrestled in that category simply because I was overweight. Unhappy about it, and unsuccessful at controlling my weight, maybe a bit of Lenten guidance and sacrifice would have been in order: giving up chocolate, peanut butter, that third helping of Mom’s homemade rolls, etc. I can see now that there might have been something to my friends’ practice.
Fast forward to quite a bit later in life. The season of Lent has come to mean a great deal to me; it is one way of considering the work of the gospel in my life. Like Advent, it slows me down to consider the work of Jesus in securing my redemption. Like Advent, it helps me anticipate and prepare for the joy of a holy day—in this case the greatest of holidays, Easter. Like Advent, there is no biblical warrant for Lent; but there is biblical precedent for periods of forty days in which God works in individuals (even in me?) to accomplish his purposes.
How important is “giving up”? Well, I guess that depends. One Lent I gave up “giving up” for Lent; I needed to stop focusing on myself and give more attention to the One who gave himself up for me. One Lent I gave more—I wrote letters to people from my past and present who made an impact on my life. And, yes, sometimes Lent is an appropriate season for some form of fasting (food, technology, entertainment, or whatever).
We can never give back to Jesus what we owe him. We can never give enough to earn his grace. We are not called to give, or give up, in order to gain favor with God. But maybe we will give up ourselves (including our giving up) in order to be less, so that he may be greater.
Chuck King, M.M., M.A., is Music Director of New Covenant Church in Naperville.
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