I Have a Problem with Lent

Lent has traditionally been about commemorating the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness preparing for his ministry. This season was used in the early church to prepare new converts for baptism on Easter. So, Lent is supposed to be about learning and preparing for discipleship.
No problem with that.

As Jesus fasted and prayed for 40 days, the idea was that his Church would share that time of self-denial and resisting demonic temptation. But at some point in history various pagan and superstitious practices attached to Lent so that it became, particularly in the Roman Catholic and Orthdox communities, a time for horrible self-abasement and self-flagellation. Aquinas said that any food that was good for you should be avoided during Lent. I've got problems with self-flagellation. You know it must have gotten bad when in the 14th century the Roman Catholic Church outlawed people physically whipping themselves to prove their devotion (although on Good Friday we still see this bizarre behavior in many places around the world).

Then there's the curious practice in some churches of veiling the cross. Now this I have real problems with. In Monsignor Peter Elliott's "Celebrations of the Liturgical Year" published by Ignatius Press in 2002, the author states: "The custom of veiling crosses and images ... has much to commend it in terms of religious psychology, because it helps us to concentrate on the great essentials of Christ's work of Redemption."

Wait -- if I cover up the crucifix (the icon of Redemption) that's supposed to help me concentrate better on redemption? I don't know what kind of psychology that is, but it's not good. Veiling the cross goes back to a practice in the early middle ages when everyone in the church was encouraged to enter the order of penitents by taking the mark of the cross on Ash Wednesday. The priests could then prescribe all kinds of dos and don'ts to whip people into shape, if not literally at least psychologically. In ninth century Germany the practice of veiling began by covering the the whole altar as a way of saying to the church, you're cut off from God until Easter.

What kind of play-acting is this? Actually it's a form of operant conditioning (brain washing). The Church wanted you to know they could open or close heaven to you at will. The message was the church controls your spiritual destiny. I will not be taking ashes this year as I do not see my pilgrimage of faith in terms of some 12th century passion play, pretending I'm not saved and pleading on my knees for reconciliation with Mother Church.

For most normal people, Lent is about giving up something. Although self-discipline is commendable, the dourness of some Lenten worship is a modern invention. In fact, Lent wasn't originally supposed to touch Sundays at all. Count 'em up and you'll see the 40 days excludes Sundays. Sunday was your break from fasting and self-abasement, a time to eat and celebrate and enjoy the fellowship of God's people. After the Enlightenment, fewer and fewer Christians practiced the intense ascetism of a "holy Lent." That's when the priests decided to turn the Lord's Day into a more intense Lenten experience.

So as the priests beat their chests and drone on and on about our wretchedness, I wonder if God doesn't think we've lost our minds. Nothing has changed in God's love toward us from Shrove Tuesday to Ash Wednesday; we don't need to invent liturgical plays about getting serious about sin. Walking with Christ isn't play-acting the liturgical seasons of the church. God already knows the seriousness of our hearts. If you give up something for Lent only to pick it back up again on Easter, how does this benefit you? If we aren't careful, our Lenten discipline may become at best something akin to New Year's resolutions; at worst, a celebration of self-improvement that cares nothing for the Gospel.

The focus of Lent must be on God and his faithfulness, not on us and our sinning. The focus of Lent is always upon the cross of Jesus and the power of the cross for those who repent and believe. Fasting and prayer yes, but not pretending we've lost our salvation and need to plunge to the depths of false humility to beg and appease an angry God. The truth is because of Christ's imputed righteousness, we may sin, but we're not condemned as sinners (Romans 8:1). When God looks on us he sees only the righteousness of Christ. For the believer to grovel in our sins is to deny the Gospel.

Christmas doesn't mean Jesus is back in the cradle and Lent doesn't mean we have become less in God's eyes. But we may discover, as Jesus did in the desert, that God has given us the Scriptures as our best defense against the Devil and his wiles, not the least of which is our beguiled pride that we can impress God with our human will-power to resist a forty day itch.