On Lenten Sacrifice

On Facebook, the question of the day as Ash Wednesday approached was whether or not to give up Facebook for Lent. I’ve been thinking about what we are really asking about ourselves when we consider the idea of giving up something for the 40 days of Lent.

Sometimes, we seem to consider giving up something that we suspect is bad for us anyway. So the sacrifice becomes a kind of exercise in self improvement. Other times, we consider giving up something that we really enjoy, so the sacrifice becomes a sacrifice in and of itself. Perhaps it helps us understand how, why and what to do if we recall the meaning of Lent across time.

The religious meaning of Lent is connected to the liturgical cycle of the Christian year. Historically, Lent was the time of preparation for entry into the life of the church. People who wanted to begin to live as followers of Jesus were taught during those 40 days about the principles and practices of Christian faith. Presumably, giving up some of one’s involvement in things that are bad for self and others is a part of converting to a faith whose basic tenet is love of God and love of neighbor.

After reception into the church, which occurred at Easter Vigil (the night before Easter morning), Christians thereafter used the season of Lent to renew their commitment to the faith; that is, to living a life devoted to love of God and neighbor as revealed by Jesus. Giving up something was to be done in order to devote one’s self more fully to spiritual disciplines and practices, which would result in greater spiritual understanding or maturity.

So the question for Lent, it seems to me, is not only “what will I give up for Lent,” but, “with what will I replace the thing that I have given up?” If I give up food, will I utilize the money or food saved to fulfill Christ’s command to feed the poor? If I give up Facebook, will I use the time to write notes of encouragement in my actual handwriting to mail to friends? If I give up television, will I use the time to read or pray? If I give up speeding when I drive, as a friend of mine once did, will I have to give up something else in order to be on time and meet my obligations?

More and more in contemporary Christian practice, there is a turn toward adding works of mercy and justice to one’s life during Lent. That is, rather than giving up something out of self-sacrifice, to somehow model or experience Jesus’ sacrifice (as though we could), some Christian communities are taking up the work of Jesus’ love of neighbor. They are doing random acts of kindness, praying for their neighbors, feeding the hungry, visiting the sick and the imprisoned. That is, taking care of all the places where Christ still appears in our world, vulnerable and victimized, and ministering with their lives to these needs.

The thing about Lent – and all Christian practices of sacrifice – is that it is never about the sacrifice itself. Lenten discipline got very distorted in Christian history, and became about trying to enter into the sacrifice of Christ, and so became very self-mortifying, and occasionally morbid. But the sacrifice of Christ on the cross is not about the sacrifice itself. It is about the love that motivates the sacrifice.

The best question for Lenten discipline is not “how can I make myself miserable?” The best question for Lenten reflection is perhaps this one: “Where is love of insignificant, transient things still so a part of my life that I am yet unable to love God and neighbor with heart, soul, strength and mind?” Wherever, whatever, that is – that is where Christ will meet us during Lent – with his love for us. That is where the Spirit of God will work with us, moving us toward wholeness and holiness.

I’m not giving up Facebook for Lent. Of course it is a time waster, sometimes. But it has connected me with people I love and care for in ways that I have never experienced in my whole adult life. I don’t think God wants me to sacrifice that.

This year, for Lent, I’m going to renew my acquaintance with the New Testament canon. I’ve decided to reread the entire testament, but not from beginning to end. I’ll read the letters of Paul (Romans last) then Mark, then Matthew, then Luke-Acts. Next I’ll read the other epistles, then, finally, as Easter nears, I’ll read John, the letters of John and Revelation. I’m going to re-read the entire New Testament with openness, I hope, to both reflection and action. I’m trusting that something that comes a gift to me from this discipline is something I am going to need to know or possess on the journey.The question I primarily carry into this journey with the text is “what shall the thing that we know as church be and do in the 21st Century?”

I will not do this as a solitary endeavor, of course. Christianity is a communal faith, and I will do this in community, because I will be participating in worship every week and in conversation and relationship with others in my church family daily (since I am the pastor). Perhaps for others, the beginning point for this journey is not the whole New Testament, but simply the commitment to give up whatever else fills Sunday mornings to be in worship with the community every Sunday during Lent, to take seriously the biblical story of how God so loves the world.

Whatever we take up for Lent, it has never failed to be true across the years that what I learned about sacrifice during Lent was something that was life-giving or even life-saving for me at a subsequent time. Taking Lent seriously…journeying into wilderness, and into the world, and into Jerusalem, and to the cross with Jesus can teach us how to negotiate and navigate a journey that we are called to walk someday, sometime, in our own lives.