In three days I will be pounding down the hottest cup of coffee and the biggest slice of chocolate cake you've ever seen. I gave up caffeine and sweets for Lent, and in three days it will be Easter. Growing up Baptist, "lent" was the past tense of lend, and "lint" was what I pulled out of my pocket and bellybutton. I didn't know Lent from Shinola.
Last year was my first time to follow the liturgical calendar. I think I gave up something nebulous like having bad attitudes about people who speak badly of cultures in southern latitudes. I probably broke my vow hundreds of times, because I wasn't exactly sure what it was I had pledged. This year the line was unambiguous; and I have been good. I haven't cheated once, except for the one Diet Coke I drank on accident. I didn't realize my error until I found myself in a frenetic daze on the roof wearing nothing but a toolbelt, after having built a room on the house and tuck-pointed the chimney in less than an hour.
I'm not sure the Lenten sacrifice has been as fulfilling as it should be. Sure, I've lost about five pounds; but I've also nodded off more than usual during my morning commute. And, yes, I have managed to focus on the suffering of Christ when the urge for frozen custard has crept into my brain. On the whole, though, it has not taken me to a higher plane. I don't know what I was expecting. I guess I thought the discipline would cause me to become more reflective and self-controlled. Or, maybe I assumed the loss of hypertension and unnecessary fat intake would transform me into a wise sage or prophet whose gaze would cut to the soul of all who dared approach me. Wrong on both counts. I desire a java buzz and a head-swirling sugar fix as much as I ever did. And people still giggle when I try to look serious. But, I guess it's not about me is it?
May I never forget that True Love comes at great cost.
May you have a blessed Easter.
11 comments:
Our 11 year-old son was the only one in our family to participate in the "giving up" tradition for Lent. I must say, even though I grew up Methodist, Lent - or at least the giving up portion - wasn't a huge deal. I think it just didn't occur to me & my folks never really emphasized that aspect of Lent to us.
Much to our chagrin, our son gave up playing computer games for Lent. I've really admired him for it, he hasn't cheated once! And he's certainly been tempted by his brothers & sister sitting there playing right under his nose. I certainly didn't give up anything equally important to me. It's a discipline if channeled the right way that could take him far in life.
Of course, he did ask me today if he could be the first to play on the computer Sunday. Should that be before church or after?
Can a daze be frenetic?
My daze days will never be the same!
Oops, that was me.
I prefer not to leave my snarky comments anonymous, on principle.
z-man, let the boy hit the computer at 12:01 Sunday morning. The tomb is empty! Now, die robotic horde!
Nate, a frenetic daze is when you drive cross country, surviving the final three hours on caffeine. You find yourself hopped up and nervous while simultaneously staring right at the exit you needed as you drive past, staring at the tracers created by the pretty streetlights.
I was also a good Baptist who dutifully ignored the Lenten calendar. I wasn't really exposed to it until I joined a UMC church with my wife. But this year, I did give up something for Lent. After my ankles flared up, I gave up exercising. I'll have to check the calendar, but I'm pretty sure I'm batting 1.000 for the season.
Giving up something can be good, but as we look towards Easter and maybe even think about future lents another practice can be adding something to the routine, doing something we don't normally do.
For example, to say I will pray more - or make it specific. I will pray the lord's prayer at noon everyday.
Or I will choose a charity to support during Lent.
Or I will read the bible more during Lent.
And then the hope is that these things, like bible reading, develop into more than just a lenten habit, but part of the daily fabric of our lives.
The question is in part, who do we want to be or who does God want us to be... And then what can i give up ordo more often during Lent to help me be that person.
I have been a Lenten slacker this season, which is unusual for me because I love the church calendar. I originally decided to give up something, but realized I wasn't actually connecting it to my spiritual life, so I gave up on giving up. I didn't really notice today was Good Friday until I received an e-mail that made reference to the fact.
I think I've decided to become eastern orthodox for the next month and a half so I can celebrate the season with them and have Easter post-Passover. But I think I'd be just as much of a slacker then.
Guess I just get to do 40 days of journeying in the next three. Lenten journey in a rocket. It seems I'm living the American dream.
-Jennifer
Brett,
I am doing some pre-study for a one-day course I am attending next weekend. One point in my reading may speak to your feelings. "We cannot base our devotional life on our emotions. We must center it in our will. It must flow out of our sense of need and trust God to supply the appropriate emotions, and we do not panic when they do not appear. Discipline becomes the method by which our devotional life keeps going through fair weather and foul."
You're right, Owen. I didn't mean to suggest that we should bend to the prevailing hedonism of our day and opt out of anything that creates discomfort. C.S. Lewis said that "pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world." Those are good words, unless you are using them as a pat answer for tsunami victims or parents of a dead child. Finding truth within the struggle, however, is important.
I just question the value of a ritualistic self-denial that is simply practiced as part of the church calendar. I suspect a fast in the middle of the year, for no particular reason, might do me more good.
Iwouldlovetorespondtoyourwittycommentabouttheliberatingeffectofcursing(wittywittyoh,sodamnwitty)butIamrampeduponcaffeinelikenobody'sbusinessandI'mnotcomingdownanytimesoon.It'ssopretyuphere.Haveyoueverbeenuphere.Ilikeituphere.Doyoulikeituphere?Ilikeituphere. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Wait. Wrong. Coming. Down. So. Fast.
Oh.
God.
I can't keep my eyes...
Greetings Reacher,
And thanks for more great essays.
Terri Schiavo, God bless her. May she rest in peace.
I am a long time Lent participant and have been since my Catholic days. Even when I was a Baptist (read: or other) and didn't pay much attention (read: comfortable and content), soon as Lent rolled around I found something to sacrifice.
When I was twelve, I gave up sleeping with a pillow. I was just being what I thought was obedient.
As I look back on the triteness of the sacrifice, which wouldn't cause more than mild discomfort I discovered that sleeping without a pillow made me more aware of my bed. Thinking about my bed made me think about my home, thinking about my home made me think about my family and so on........
You are right. Lent isn't about any of us, but about what we can learn from a sacrifice. In my case, an awareness of those without beds or the roofs over them.
And this causes concern and a wish to alleviate the roof-less-ness and bed-less-ness of others.
After that Lent my pillow was the same, but I wasn't.
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