Fasts from the past: giving up Lenten Sacrifice

We have a checkered past, Lent and I.

When I was quite young, I recall being very moved by whole thing. The music especially was just somber and poignant enough to suit my naturally melancholic tastes. "Twas I, Lord Jesus; I it was denied thee; I crucified thee!" It was a season tailor-made for a self-effacing and earnest adolescent.

And then I discovered...the Lenten Sacrifice. Of course. Denying myself was the perfect compliment to the healthy guilt I was already experiencing. And thus began the long string of sacrificial seasons, with varied results...

One year in college, I resolved to ban pop music from my repertoire. Only Christian artists were allowed, even though my own collection of them was fairly sparse. I met my first challenge in the cafeteria, where the local pop station was piped in through the speaker system, three meals a day. Oops. I chose to "ignore" it, believing God would forgive the infraction. Then, after several weeks I began to feel a compulsion for dance music. I resisted, but found myself back in my dorm room, just me and the radio... I desperately grabbed Amy Grant's Unguarded, hoping the upbeat rhythms would satisfy my cravings. It was kind of like stuffing a prune in your mouth when you're desperately craving chocolate.

The next year I "gave up" using profanity, but made the mistake of telling my friends I was doing so. If I would slip--or even come close--I would get the Disapproving Eye of Judgment. This, of course, made me want to swear even more.

I vaguely recall eliminating soda from my diet one year, but the experience must have been too traumatizing to remember details.

Then in seminary, I made the most foolish choice ever: giving up alcohol during what happened to be the period of time when we received our internship assignments. My predominant response was dismay and frustration at the stupidity of my decision, not so much a closer walk with God.

Which brings me to the last (and most disastrous) Lenten sacrifice I ever chose. I had noticed that I was perpetually inventing elaborate "head trips," in which I was FBI Special Agent Dana Scully, to distract myself from my actual, uninspired life. And while these imaginings made my days WAY more interesting, it was obvious what needed to be given up. However, after a couple weeks without the mental journeys, it became starkly clear to me just how depressed I really was. Over drinks, a colleague suggested that the head trips might have been my one effective coping mechanism, the last thread holding me together. So much for the spiritual benefit of self-denial. And so I got out of that business for good.

This is not to say that sacrifice doesn't benefit some people. I simply have found much more value from taking on a discipline for 40 days than from giving something up that may (or may not) be detrimental to my spiritual health. This year, I've committed to using my God-given writing abilities in some way, each day. I've been intending it for far too long, and taking no action for at least as long. I guess, if you must, you could say that this year for Lent, I'm giving up excuses. :)

Here's to Day One.


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Ill-planned penitence:
Making me Lenten junkie
Or Lenten flunkie?