Originally published April 17, 2017
In the Episcopal church and some other liturgical churches, it is common to "give up" things for Lent. Things that you like, love, enjoy. Things that, without which, you will suffer. The general idea is just that. That you will suffer a bit. You know, kinda like Jesus Christ did when he died on the cross to save us from our own sinful selves. No need to feel guilty if you didn't give anything up, but still enjoy the benefits of Christ's sacrifice for you. Really, no need. Growing up, we didn't give up things for Lent, even though we were liturgical Lutherans. It just wasn't a thing in our family. And, it's probably not a thing in most families, even those who are liturgically bent. I suppose most people don't give up things for Lent because IT'S HARD. And generally, in my experience, humans don't like to do things that are HARD. Or inconvenient. Or painful. Or annoying. I suppose it's our inner teenager that never grows up. Two years ago we gave up coffee, dessert and meat. What were we thinking, you ask? I don't know. We were in discernment to come to seminary, and actually spent the first weekend of Lent here visiting Sewanee. Michael suffered debilitating headaches from the caffeine withdrawal that lasted about five days. We were tempted with all kinds of treats, and accepted meat as a matter of hospitality. We also determined that black tea contained enough caffeine to manage sanity, and that it wasn't really dessert if cake or cookie was eaten at 3 p.m. with black tea. We stuck to the meatless pretty well, as Michael's daughter was living with us at the time and was vegetarian. And, I'll cook anything. So, did I suffer? Mmmmmm...the jury's still out on that one. Last year, Isabel suggested that we give up meat again. She was in her second season of athletics and was known to eat pork as a snack. I suggested we not do that, as I really needed her not to lose her mind. So we gave up giving up last year. This year we considered what to give up carefully, however, and decided to give up sugar. We didn't call it dessert, because Michael takes sugar in his coffee and loves a Coca Cola. We didn't really define it, actually. But generally we took it to mean sugar in coffee (I take mine black), Coke (I drink LaCroix) and desserts like cookies and cake, or anything made with brown or white sugar (honey doesn't count). Isabel announced that since she doesn't even really believe in God (that's another story), she doesn't really have to stick to any Lenten discipline, but will if she sees fit. So, as you can see, the deck is already stacked against Michael, and not me or Isabel. So, my first fail was not really giving up anything. Dessert because baked curried fruit sweetened with honey and topped with vanilla yogurt. We ate that a lot. Yum. Dump several cans of fruit in a dish, sweeten - I mean add some honey - and a tablespoon of curry and bake for a bit. It's a great wintertime excuse for healthy eating. And, I found a recipe for homemade granola bars sweetened with - I mean made, with honey, and tons of nuts and dried cherries. We ate those after dinner. And before. Second fail, substituting for dessert.
Right: I determined that honey was not sugar, and so we went through three quarts of it during Lent. We also started eating fruit veraciously, which mostly turns to sugar once consumed. Is that bad?
We stayed with my mom on spring break. I worked and Michael tended to the children and other Greenville chores. My mom, who raised me Lutheran, has been non-liturgical for the past 25 years, and Baptist for the past 15. So she eschews Lent. And, her favorite ingredient is butter, followed by white flour and white sugar. I don't know how she is 5'2" and weighs about 120 pounds. Anyway, she claims not to eat dessert every night but whenever I'm there a plate of cookies, or a three-layer cake, or a box of chocolates appears after dinner. Along with the smallest dish of ice cream. Third fail, as a rule, we forsake our Lenten discipline for hospitality. To refuse would just be rude. So I give myself a by on that one. Though I probably did look for more "hospitable" situations than I usually do. As we entered the home stretch. things really began to unravel. Saturday afternoon - I mean, a mere few hours before the Lord rises from the dead - Isabel makes a chocolate poke cake with caramel sauce and buttercream frosting for her boyfriend's birthday. Wouldn't it have been inhospitable not to have a piece? I mean, what would her friends think if I didn't partake in the festivities? Which was right after our Saturday morning trip to the store, in which we stocked up on Coke, ice cream and other sugary drinks. We were getting ready for church, and Michael said, "It's close enough," and poured himself a coke, which he took in the car for the 3-minute ride to church. Seriously? What is wrong with us? Why can we not suffer? Why do I feel like I did suffer? On Sunday morning I made caramelized biscuit nests covered in white and brown sugar, topped with powdered sugar glaze so the Whopper Robin's eggs could adhere to the top and Paula Deen's green grits pie, which has three times as much sugar as it does grits. I could not get that sugar in my body fast enough!!!
Left: I think I made up for all the sugar I missed at breakfast yesterday.
I've written about suffering before, especially about how it helps us progress and grow as children of God. It's one of my favorite Christian topics. Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5: 1-5
Am I boasting in my suffering? Or lack thereof? On first glance, boasting of your suffering doesn't seem like a very Christian thing to do. But sometimes, during Lent, when we mentioned that we couldn't eat sugar because we gave it up for Lent, people didn't know what we were talking about, which gave us the opportunity to talk about what were doing, and why we were doing it. We went to this fabulous breakfast place in Winchester one Saturday that makes amazing chocolate chip pancakes sprinkled with powdered sugar and drowned in syrup. I got the egg biscuit. Man, that was hard. Why did we go there? Anyway, we told our waitress we couldn't get the pancakes because we had given up sugar for Lent. She didn't know what Lent was. We asked if she was Baptist, and she wasn't sure, but she did know Jesus, and had recently come to know him, and was glad to be back at work after five years, and back in Winchester with her family. This was her fifth day at work. She almost started crying when she told her story to us. She didn't elaborate, but I knew something horrible had happened to her, and she was on the mend. She was young, sincere, hard working and capable. We prayed for her and her son. It was a brief, and mysteriously spiritual encounter brought on by our "boasting" about our suffering. I think it was meaningful. To both of us.
My mom, on the other hand, poo poos our Lenten discipline and passes the fudge plate. That's ok, I'm pretty sure she's Christian anyway.
I choose not to suffer the consequences of an insult of hospitality to my mom, so I take that piece of fudge. So I'm suffering all around!! It's not the kind of suffering that waitress did for five years, I'm sure. Actually, I don't do that much suffering, in perspective. Life is hard, yes. Work is a grind, the grocery store is 20 minutes away, electricity is expensive, and teenagers are exhausting. But I have a great team that works hard, kids who are doing well in school, a faithful husband, healthy parents, a cozy house and mountain trails to walk.
Oh yeah, and a Risen Lord and Saviour who'll probably forgive my Lenten fails.
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