Why do Lent? Why fast from anything for any amount of time? What does it mean? What's the point?
In modern times fasting is fairly unique and extremely so as a form of worship. Even after completing these 40 days of Lent I find myself still somewhat confused about what fasting is and why we do it. What I do know for sure is that in this modern world where the distance between desire and satisfaction is minuscule, doing without what you want for an extended period of time is almost a revolutionary act.
I haven't had any need to justify fasting to anyone by virtue of my stay-at-home-husband status. Basically the only explanation needed was to my candy and dessert obsessed daughter. I can imagine how it would be in public however. People notice things and would certainly notice my rejecting sodas and sweets. I have often wondered how I would react if questioned. Mostly I see myself shrugging and declaring it a religious thing with some measure of resignation. I wouldn't have a real answer. Experience has taught me that in giving up what I desire, what has been an addiction, something that on some level has controlled me, brings me not closer to God so much as it gives me more of my self to turn over to his control.
One of the things I've discovered as a result of this process that happens to be entirely non spiritual is that sugar had been affecting my health. Well, duh, the health conscious among my audience are probably saying. I can practically hear the forehead slaps and semi patronizing good for you even now as this is in the first draft.
I have lived with pretty much daily acid reflux/indigestion, or whatever people call it, for years. It was only through Lent that I realized it wasn't caused by coffee or spicy food but, instead, sugar. At this realization I did a very small experimentation. Processed sugar was right out. Even in very small amounts it caused the acid. Sugar in the raw at the same amount caused the same reaction but it took much, much longer to hit. The only safe thing was honey. Zero reaction. This will bring quite the change for my life. I'm fairly certain PepsiCo stock will fall, so if you are invested...brace yourself.
It is easy to look at things as having an inescapable hold on us. I spent years thinking that giving up Facebook was too big; bigger even than when I quit smoking cold turkey. So many people have told me how they just can't do it, that somehow my success is a super human anomaly. It really isn't. It feels that way, to be sure, but it doesn't take a super human will.
I've learned a few principles that are so fundamental to human existence that I feel embarrassingly late to the party. Mainly I've learned that nothing has real power over me that I haven't willingly given that power to. I can make decades of excuses about how helpless I am, and without Jesus I'm sure it is true. I give away power with my choices. This has rung true so completely in me that I'm actually looking forward to next year when I'm likely to give up digital media of all sorts for 40 days.
I know, right? Nothing. No Netflix. No Playstation. No movies. No T.V. Shows. Just me and a lot of time spent doing analog things. Giving up Facebook earlier in the year has created so much peace within me...I'm kind of wondering how much more of that there is to be had. How much do these distractions affect us? Would I be better off that way? It is only because of this Lent that it could be possible for me to even consider attempting.
Pax,
W
Showing posts with label Fasting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fasting. Show all posts
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
On Lent: An Update
The sugar addiction fog has cleared a bit, praise Jesus. Literally. I have.
It is amazing how we cling to things. I have marveled at my own inability to let go. When Paul talks about beating his flesh into submission in 1 Corinthians 9, he ain't joking. It is insanely difficult to just give up sugar let alone the pet sins in our lives.
I find that Lent can be a master class in letting these things go. You get to the end of yourself and have to rely on God because there is no more of yourself to rely on. If it was up to me I'd have that maple bar. I'd dig deep into that creme brulee or indulge in my greatest temptation...Pepsi.
I had a really big moment in my Lenten journey. It might sound like I am making an excuse or being a bit of a hypocrite, and I considered that. But something changed in me. I was at my favorite coffee shop (seriously, the best latte I've ever had and it was without a flavored syrup) and the owner recognized me from a Google review I put online. Without a word he came over and put a personal sized (not full slice) blackberry cheesecake in front of me. I said, "Wow" and thanked him. It sat there for a few minutes while I kept writing my new novel. I looked from my laptop screen to the cheesecake and I realized that there was a complete absence of compulsion. My mouth didn't salivate. I didn't feel any longing or like if I pushed it away, said no thank you or something, that I would have missed out. It was just a thing. Just a piece of food. And if you've seen me, I'm 291 pounds (down from 298 on Ash Wednesday, woohoo). I'm a man who has eaten his fair share of cheese cake, cheese, and cake. Not feeling anything was kind of a big deal.
The man, I knew from overhearing a conversation from last time, is an artisan. He makes 98% of the menu on site. "Everything but the coffee beans, and we don't churn the butter," he said with a laugh. I'm not an artisan, but I am a professionally trained cook and when I present somebody with something I've worked on, and am proud of and they refuse it hurts. A lot. He takes great pride in his work, and I realized (again, as much of an excuse as it sounds like) that it was about doing something to not offend. Paul, of course, talks about this in being a Jew to the Jewish, Greek to the Greek, etc. Was it a sin to partake during Lent? If I was Catholic enough I might say that, but I'm not. Grace is extreme and I wasn't violating the actual purpose of Lent in my heart. Had it been earlier when I was really struggling I might have said something, but no. Had I eaten the cheesecake and then felt horrible about it then maybe I would have written a different post. And this is where the analogy of our little addictions being the same as sins breaks down. It's instructive, illustrative in fact, but not equal to. It was enough that during the first two weeks of Lent the Lord broke a major stronghold and after ingesting the artisan, hand crafted, blackberry cheesecake the craving was still not there. At least not in the sanity clawing, soul shredding intensity it was before.
On the interesting but not necessarily spiritually relevant side, I have spent years suffering from acid reflux type symptoms. For ages it did not matter if I ate acidic stuff or not, I would be popping the antacids. At first it was kind of a "Huh...I wonder if sugar is responsible..." and then I ate the cheesecake. The evening and all the next morning I had such acid attacks. I am pretty certain I will not going back to sugar anymore after Lent is finished. It will mean no diabetes, which I'm sure has been a concern of a few family and close friends.
Pax,
W
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Ash Wednesday
My family has recently begun attending the local Presbyterian "Mega Church" as I call it. (Seriously, it's the biggest Presbyterian church I've ever seen. It doesn't seat thousands but it does have three services). The church we had been attending decided to move twenty minutes away so we'd been churchless for a while. The Presbyterian church is where we've sent our kids to AWANA so we had a pretty good feel of the people or at least the place so social anxiety was minimal. I had some other qualifications I felt I needed in a church (I can't remember if I've written about that. I'll have to look. That was an...interesting...process...) and the Presby satisfied them all. We started attending the Saturday evening service which, let me tell you, is a great thing for a church to have.
Anyway, the point is that, as my wife states, Presby is kind of like Catholic light...all the ritual without the Latin, the guilt, and they let the leaders be married. I'm not sure that's an official description, but suffice to say they celebrate things like Ash Wednesday.
I'd never been to an Ash Wednesday service before given that I had the typical FEC sensibilities of "It ain't in the Bible, so we ain't doin' it". Maybe it's my age creeping up on me and sentimentality creeping in, but I felt like I really wanted to go and experience it. I'd done Lent before and was committed to doing it again this year by giving up sugar. Well, sugar in overt forms. I know bread has some sugar in it as do fruits but I'm not giving them up. The sugar in my coffee, cookies, candy, soda, etc. however are verboten. It's the indulgences I'm limiting. (Day two is going on right now for me and...the withdrawals are pretty bad right now. My body is less than happy with me.)
There was a soup and bread meal before the service that we also attended in order that we might get to know the congregation a little better. I say "might" because I'm a little strange when it comes to meeting people. My wife is the more daring one when it comes to conversation. I'm always busy thinking, double thinking, and triple thinking what I'm going to say, how it will be received, how they might respond, and by the time that process is over I start wondering if the length of time I've spent thinking it through has been too long so as to make it not just awkward but super awkward. It's a vicious cycle.
The time came and we all filed into the sizeable sanctuary which filled up very quickly. That was probably my first shock. At all the churches I've been a part of before it was hit or miss that even a quarter of the congregation showed up for an event that wasn't on Sunday morning.
My nine year old daughter nudged me a bit and asked me where the ashes were and if they actually were the burned palm branches from last palm Sunday. My little nerdling had researched it before we left the house. I replied that I didn't know and that wasn't necessarily a for sure thing. She then asked what it was all about. Apparently the things she retained from her research were more along the lines of interesting trivia.
I explained about ashes as a symbol of mourning and how we come to Lent as a recognition of our sins; that our sins have offended God, that we are from dust and to dust we will return.
She asked if she had to get that stuff on her forehead if she went up and I assured her that it's only for the will, completely voluntary. My daughter gave a confession of faith in Jesus last year and still hadn't even gone forward for her first communion so I didn't expect that she would even entertain the idea
One of the things people in FEC circles get hung up on connected to Ash Wednesday and, by extension, Lent is the focus on the "sin" component. I was struck by this when my sister had called me earlier in the day to relate her experience attending the event at a Catholic church. The priest apparently went on about our sin, how sinful we are, how it offends God, and so on until she had to leave. Naturally my Smart Ass (tm) reply was, "Did you check the denomination before you went through the door" and she said yes, of course but...what about Grace? Naturally my brain kicked into overdrive and started obsessing on the differences. I came to a few conclusions and notions.
It was best said by the pastor at the Presby service that night. He said that we cannot understand the full value of that grace until we understand the depths of our depravity and the offensiveness of our sin.
Jesus' sacrifice has little value to those who don't think they did much of anything wrong in the first place. Amazing Grace is only such a sweet song when we realize we are a wretch. I look reflect and find that I can easily live my life thinking that my sins are minor things because I'm keeping the Big Ten with little to no problem. I'm really not bowing down at idols, disrespecting my parents in word or deed, haven't come close to murdering, and I can't even remember the last time I coveted my neighbor's donkey. But God says my heart is corrupt and full of deceit. I sin. I sin all the time. Not a day goes by that I do not sin. It's a modern numbing that tells me "Oh, well, ya know He's going to forgive you so shrug it off and don't give it a second thought." Just because I know that the Judge with find me innocent doesn't mean that I should feel nothing when finding that I've committed a crime. Should I feel condemned? No. However, should I feel nothing? Sin is a cancer and there's not a cancer patient in this world that hears the diagnosis and goes, "Oh, sure. Ok, Doc. Thanks," with a casual air like I can tend to do with my sins.
After an invocation prayer they had someone play and sing Phil Wickham's song Mercy and I nearly wept in my pew. We forget that we need mercy. It's so easy to fall prey to Behavioral Christianity that believes Grace covers everything so don't think on it or let it prick your conscience. We become quite happily numb to our wretchedness. I'm not at all saying that we should consider, as I was told as a child, that every sin we commit is another thorn in the brow or a twist of the nail in Jesus' hand. But it does us well to remember on occasion lest we become like the Ungrateful Servant.
Ash Wednesday is a reminder that our sins have offended God. Lent is all about giving up our little idols, our comforts, and mourning that we tend to lavish them with more adoration and attention than we do the Jesus who saved us. In the end we are our own idols, as it turns out. The things we give up seem to make room for us to hold on to more of the LORD.
I had prepped for the occasion. I wasn't about to be caught off guard again by the Non-FEC style communion where they actually say things to you. "This is the body of Christ broken for you." "Uh....thank you?" (Direct quote from our first visit). I wondered if they would go with the oh so Catholic, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." or the slightly more modernly palatable, "Repent and believe the gospel."
The pastor looked into my eyes and said, "Dust you are and to dust you shall return. Repent, believe the gospel and follow after Jesus."
For the second time that evening I nearly lost it.
I don't believe that there is a power inherent in the rituals themselves. It would be easy to confuse the issue there. I had always seen the rituals as empty expressions without power and meaning. I was likely half right. They are without power. However I do believe that when we use them to draw nigh unto the LORD he is faithful to show up and draw night unto us. Just going through the motions without a fully engage heart is not enough. Believe that the ritual has any power in and of itself is not enough. It's such a fine hair's breadth line that it can be difficult to put into language.
God showed up for me there, that is for sure, just like He has faithfully shown up in my "ritual" of praying three times a day, and reading my Bible first thing in the morning.
Something snagged my attention out of the corner of my eye. The pastor was rising from a bent position and I wondered why since I believed that it was my wife right behind me and she's short but not that short. A familiar bashful and half afraid face appeared belonging to my daughter as the pastor moved out of the way to put an ash cross on my wife's forehead. I could not help but beam at my daughter. I had wondered if she would ever take the next step in her faith walk by taking communion, and here she was participating in Ash Wednesday. She followed me through the communion elements accidentally grabbing the crust of the loaf she was presented with and had an adorable little tug of war with the deacon who held it. Dipping it in the cup of wine she walked faster to catch up with me and ask in a loud whisper, "Do I eat it now or do I wait 'til we're in our seats?". I smiled and told her either was OK, but I eat it right away because it can drip on your hands.
We walked back to our seats, sang a hymn, received the Benediction, and were asked to exit in silence.
Exiting in silence was one of the strangest experiences of my life. It was unsettling, and that was the point. Ash Wednesday is not about rejoicing. The rejoicing comes at the end, on Easter Sunday. We were to feel unsettled, as if something was wrong, because something is wrong. Sin broke the world. Again, I like to think of it as a minor inconvenience, but sin is a terrible, horrible thing that has shattered lives, destroyed man's relationship with God and I wonder how many times I look at my sinning brother and I shrug in the same way I do with it in my life. I couldn't help but think of my previous pastor and the Solemn Assembly he holds every year in October as an "Ash Wednesday" for another season of fasting. I think we could stand to take sin seriously more than once a year.
Pax,
W
Anyway, the point is that, as my wife states, Presby is kind of like Catholic light...all the ritual without the Latin, the guilt, and they let the leaders be married. I'm not sure that's an official description, but suffice to say they celebrate things like Ash Wednesday.
I'd never been to an Ash Wednesday service before given that I had the typical FEC sensibilities of "It ain't in the Bible, so we ain't doin' it". Maybe it's my age creeping up on me and sentimentality creeping in, but I felt like I really wanted to go and experience it. I'd done Lent before and was committed to doing it again this year by giving up sugar. Well, sugar in overt forms. I know bread has some sugar in it as do fruits but I'm not giving them up. The sugar in my coffee, cookies, candy, soda, etc. however are verboten. It's the indulgences I'm limiting. (Day two is going on right now for me and...the withdrawals are pretty bad right now. My body is less than happy with me.)
There was a soup and bread meal before the service that we also attended in order that we might get to know the congregation a little better. I say "might" because I'm a little strange when it comes to meeting people. My wife is the more daring one when it comes to conversation. I'm always busy thinking, double thinking, and triple thinking what I'm going to say, how it will be received, how they might respond, and by the time that process is over I start wondering if the length of time I've spent thinking it through has been too long so as to make it not just awkward but super awkward. It's a vicious cycle.
The time came and we all filed into the sizeable sanctuary which filled up very quickly. That was probably my first shock. At all the churches I've been a part of before it was hit or miss that even a quarter of the congregation showed up for an event that wasn't on Sunday morning.
My nine year old daughter nudged me a bit and asked me where the ashes were and if they actually were the burned palm branches from last palm Sunday. My little nerdling had researched it before we left the house. I replied that I didn't know and that wasn't necessarily a for sure thing. She then asked what it was all about. Apparently the things she retained from her research were more along the lines of interesting trivia.
I explained about ashes as a symbol of mourning and how we come to Lent as a recognition of our sins; that our sins have offended God, that we are from dust and to dust we will return.
She asked if she had to get that stuff on her forehead if she went up and I assured her that it's only for the will, completely voluntary. My daughter gave a confession of faith in Jesus last year and still hadn't even gone forward for her first communion so I didn't expect that she would even entertain the idea
One of the things people in FEC circles get hung up on connected to Ash Wednesday and, by extension, Lent is the focus on the "sin" component. I was struck by this when my sister had called me earlier in the day to relate her experience attending the event at a Catholic church. The priest apparently went on about our sin, how sinful we are, how it offends God, and so on until she had to leave. Naturally my Smart Ass (tm) reply was, "Did you check the denomination before you went through the door" and she said yes, of course but...what about Grace? Naturally my brain kicked into overdrive and started obsessing on the differences. I came to a few conclusions and notions.
It was best said by the pastor at the Presby service that night. He said that we cannot understand the full value of that grace until we understand the depths of our depravity and the offensiveness of our sin.
Jesus' sacrifice has little value to those who don't think they did much of anything wrong in the first place. Amazing Grace is only such a sweet song when we realize we are a wretch. I look reflect and find that I can easily live my life thinking that my sins are minor things because I'm keeping the Big Ten with little to no problem. I'm really not bowing down at idols, disrespecting my parents in word or deed, haven't come close to murdering, and I can't even remember the last time I coveted my neighbor's donkey. But God says my heart is corrupt and full of deceit. I sin. I sin all the time. Not a day goes by that I do not sin. It's a modern numbing that tells me "Oh, well, ya know He's going to forgive you so shrug it off and don't give it a second thought." Just because I know that the Judge with find me innocent doesn't mean that I should feel nothing when finding that I've committed a crime. Should I feel condemned? No. However, should I feel nothing? Sin is a cancer and there's not a cancer patient in this world that hears the diagnosis and goes, "Oh, sure. Ok, Doc. Thanks," with a casual air like I can tend to do with my sins.
After an invocation prayer they had someone play and sing Phil Wickham's song Mercy and I nearly wept in my pew. We forget that we need mercy. It's so easy to fall prey to Behavioral Christianity that believes Grace covers everything so don't think on it or let it prick your conscience. We become quite happily numb to our wretchedness. I'm not at all saying that we should consider, as I was told as a child, that every sin we commit is another thorn in the brow or a twist of the nail in Jesus' hand. But it does us well to remember on occasion lest we become like the Ungrateful Servant.
Ash Wednesday is a reminder that our sins have offended God. Lent is all about giving up our little idols, our comforts, and mourning that we tend to lavish them with more adoration and attention than we do the Jesus who saved us. In the end we are our own idols, as it turns out. The things we give up seem to make room for us to hold on to more of the LORD.
I had prepped for the occasion. I wasn't about to be caught off guard again by the Non-FEC style communion where they actually say things to you. "This is the body of Christ broken for you." "Uh....thank you?" (Direct quote from our first visit). I wondered if they would go with the oh so Catholic, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." or the slightly more modernly palatable, "Repent and believe the gospel."
The pastor looked into my eyes and said, "Dust you are and to dust you shall return. Repent, believe the gospel and follow after Jesus."
For the second time that evening I nearly lost it.
I don't believe that there is a power inherent in the rituals themselves. It would be easy to confuse the issue there. I had always seen the rituals as empty expressions without power and meaning. I was likely half right. They are without power. However I do believe that when we use them to draw nigh unto the LORD he is faithful to show up and draw night unto us. Just going through the motions without a fully engage heart is not enough. Believe that the ritual has any power in and of itself is not enough. It's such a fine hair's breadth line that it can be difficult to put into language.
God showed up for me there, that is for sure, just like He has faithfully shown up in my "ritual" of praying three times a day, and reading my Bible first thing in the morning.
Something snagged my attention out of the corner of my eye. The pastor was rising from a bent position and I wondered why since I believed that it was my wife right behind me and she's short but not that short. A familiar bashful and half afraid face appeared belonging to my daughter as the pastor moved out of the way to put an ash cross on my wife's forehead. I could not help but beam at my daughter. I had wondered if she would ever take the next step in her faith walk by taking communion, and here she was participating in Ash Wednesday. She followed me through the communion elements accidentally grabbing the crust of the loaf she was presented with and had an adorable little tug of war with the deacon who held it. Dipping it in the cup of wine she walked faster to catch up with me and ask in a loud whisper, "Do I eat it now or do I wait 'til we're in our seats?". I smiled and told her either was OK, but I eat it right away because it can drip on your hands.
We walked back to our seats, sang a hymn, received the Benediction, and were asked to exit in silence.
Exiting in silence was one of the strangest experiences of my life. It was unsettling, and that was the point. Ash Wednesday is not about rejoicing. The rejoicing comes at the end, on Easter Sunday. We were to feel unsettled, as if something was wrong, because something is wrong. Sin broke the world. Again, I like to think of it as a minor inconvenience, but sin is a terrible, horrible thing that has shattered lives, destroyed man's relationship with God and I wonder how many times I look at my sinning brother and I shrug in the same way I do with it in my life. I couldn't help but think of my previous pastor and the Solemn Assembly he holds every year in October as an "Ash Wednesday" for another season of fasting. I think we could stand to take sin seriously more than once a year.
Pax,
W
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)