"Givin it up for Lent"
A KBCer told me a story about a relative who gave up alcohol for lent. He went from Ash Wednesday to Easter without taking one drink. For many that might not be much of a sacrifice, but apparently it was for him; for he started drinking Easter morning, and spent the day drunk.
Setting aside the image of being inebriated on the biggest Christian holiday, what’s missing in this picture? Certainly not religious devotion, for his “giving up” was obviously difficult. Certainly not basic belief, for why else would he go to all the trouble? No, the missing element is what we have encountered in our study of the beatitudes: a hunger for ALL of righteousness – or better: rightness with God.
This hunger and thirst after rightness is at the very heart of the idea of Lent. During the forty days from Ash Wednesday to Easter (Sundays aren’t counted) Christians around the globe are called on to remember Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness. As Christ-followers, we imitate Christ and have our own “desert experience.” The goal is to draw away from the normal activities of our lives and intently reflect on what we need to sacrifice (to give up) to conform into Christ’s image.
The practice of giving up an item (chocolate, television, eating out, alcohol, exercise – well, maybe not exercise) can be a helpful tool. If it is seen as a small part of a larger picture of sacrifice, it can be used like a hammer to build a house. One would never confuse a house with a hammer, but the latter is a helpful tool to build the former. So Lent, and making small sacrifices during Lent, can be a helpful tool to build a Christ-like character. Small sacrifices remind us that love is built by the nails of real sacrifice – nails that imitate the real nails of the cross.
I wouldn’t ever want to commend the activities of a drunkard – but this thing I’m sure our friend had right. Everyday he looked forward to Easter. Lent is lived out, knowing that the route to true joy is through real love. We don’t embrace Lent as dower, sad, masochists who want to be miserable. We give up remembering Jesus’ promise: “only those who lose their lives for my sake will find it.” In dying to ourselves for sacrificial love, we arise to find a new morning filled with transcendent joy. And so celebrate new life. Inebriation not needed.
Setting aside the image of being inebriated on the biggest Christian holiday, what’s missing in this picture? Certainly not religious devotion, for his “giving up” was obviously difficult. Certainly not basic belief, for why else would he go to all the trouble? No, the missing element is what we have encountered in our study of the beatitudes: a hunger for ALL of righteousness – or better: rightness with God.
This hunger and thirst after rightness is at the very heart of the idea of Lent. During the forty days from Ash Wednesday to Easter (Sundays aren’t counted) Christians around the globe are called on to remember Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness. As Christ-followers, we imitate Christ and have our own “desert experience.” The goal is to draw away from the normal activities of our lives and intently reflect on what we need to sacrifice (to give up) to conform into Christ’s image.
The practice of giving up an item (chocolate, television, eating out, alcohol, exercise – well, maybe not exercise) can be a helpful tool. If it is seen as a small part of a larger picture of sacrifice, it can be used like a hammer to build a house. One would never confuse a house with a hammer, but the latter is a helpful tool to build the former. So Lent, and making small sacrifices during Lent, can be a helpful tool to build a Christ-like character. Small sacrifices remind us that love is built by the nails of real sacrifice – nails that imitate the real nails of the cross.
I wouldn’t ever want to commend the activities of a drunkard – but this thing I’m sure our friend had right. Everyday he looked forward to Easter. Lent is lived out, knowing that the route to true joy is through real love. We don’t embrace Lent as dower, sad, masochists who want to be miserable. We give up remembering Jesus’ promise: “only those who lose their lives for my sake will find it.” In dying to ourselves for sacrificial love, we arise to find a new morning filled with transcendent joy. And so celebrate new life. Inebriation not needed.
<< Home