I’m always a little embarrassed when someone asks what I’ve given up for Lent. I usually give up sweets, which sounds like a child’s choice. I did, in fact, start this practice in my early teens and have been more faithful to it than to any more “adult” discipline. So I was thrilled to read that our bishop gave up computer Solitaire. It sounds like he and I are in accord on Lent.
Lent needn’t be a time of misery. Six weeks of whips and hair shirts can’t make up for a year of sin. Only Christ’s sacrifice can do that. Rather, I see Lent as an effort to remind ourselves of basic Gospel truths and to impress them more deeply on our hearts. Ideally, each Lent builds on the preceding ones and leaves us a little closer to our Lord. Our Lenten discipline should nudge, not flatten, us.
Giving up sweets does that for me. Dessert is a luxury that I usually consider a necessity. The “suffering” I endure calls into question other “necessities” in my budget. For example, I don’t really need to get my favorite author’s latest e-book. I could wait for the paperback. Meanwhile, Hilo has a large library full of books I haven’t read.
Sugar abstinence teaches me that, with God’s grace, I can control my body’s appetites or, rather, my response to those appetites. If I can handle my mild Lenten cravings, maybe I can also learn to control my temper when I’m weary and my whining when I’m sick.
The church hopes that our self-denial will stimulate compassion for the poor and needy. Come Holy Saturday, I’ll figure out how much I would have spent on sweets during Lent and write a check to the Food Basket. More importantly, each tiny craving reminds me that thousands are starving to death right now. Millions more lack access to fresh water or medical care. My Lenten prayer is that remembering them will become a habit and will affect my decisions the other 325 days of the year.
The Old Testament tells us that our sacrifice should be something special — an unblemished animal, rich wine, aromatic incense or the finest flour. Depriving ourselves, however briefly, of these delights should remind us of God’s generosity. It should also make us appreciate the things we didn’t give up, like a long hot shower or our spouse’s embrace.
We all know we should pray more than we do, but we get busy. Sixteen hours fall between breakfast and bedtime, and few of us remember to think of God during them. But in Lent, we get help. Every time we find ourselves longing for our usual coffee, cigarette or computer game, we’re reminded to pray. Many find that linking self-denial to a specific intention makes Lenten prayers particularly satisfying.
Fasting, the saints tell us, can purify our prayers and draw us closer to our Lord. We are given the unimaginable privilege of joining our small sacrifices to Christ’s supreme sacrifice for the redemption of the world. The focus is on Jesus. When we feel the tiny pangs of hunger or pleasure denied, we join Jesus in the desert, in the garden and on the cross. We feel a little of the longing he felt to save humanity from itself.
Ann Landers once published a meditation called “Just for Today.” It offered resolutions we might find impossible for a year but reasonable for one day. Lent is a similar daily discipline. It doesn’t matter how well we’ve done so far. What matters is what we do today and each day until Easter. What a celebration that will be — Christ risen and chocolate bunnies. Hallelujah!
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo, HI 96720, or e-mail: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
