Countdown to Ash Wednesday

I've started thinking about what I want to give up (or practice faithfully) during Lent. But I think it's too easy for Lenten disciplines to become yet another self-improvement regimen. The problem is that self-improvement is all tied up in, well, self. So, whatever I do, I think it's important not to undertake it like I would a diet or a New Year's resolution or a new system of organization to become a more "highly effective person."

The key, I think, is to remember that I'm doing what I'm doing to accompany and imitate Jesus in his fasting in the desert, preparing himself to face "our ancient foe." (Matthew 4:1-11) That's one of my guiding texts as I consider. I think Jesus was led by the Spirit to fast in the desert because he needed to master the force of craving. But not as an exercise in denying or loathing the created world. I think he wanted to face two essential questions:

Will my desire for the cucumbers, melons, and leeks of Egypt lead me back into slavery? (Numbers 11:5)

What if Israel had gone back into slavery for some nice soup instead of this manna, day in, day out? What if Abraham had waved off God's "Go!" to stay in the green land between the rivers? What if Ruth had gone back to her people and left Naomi to fend for herself? What if Mary had said, "I'll be the laughing-stock of the village. Find some other maiden. I just want a nice marriage and some normal children with my husband?" What if Jesus had turned back from his ministry and the cross at the end of it because it's much more comfortable to have somewhere to lay your head and to avoid pissing off powerful people? Following where God leads will probably involve discomfort (at the very least). Might as well train for it while you can.

When I am presented with what I want, will I be able to say "no" if I know that someone will be hurt by my getting it?

It doesn't have to be anything major. Maybe it's casually interrupting someone in order to be heard. Maybe it's eating chocolate made from cocoa picked by people suffering outside my realm of concern. Maybe it's enjoying inexpensive consumer goods without worrying about why they're so cheap. Many religious traditions, not just the monotheistic ones, teach that craving messes with the ability to choose with integrity: it makes us double-hearted. I don't think I can purge that kind of double-heartedness entirely, but maybe I can train myself to become compassionately aware of it so I can put off what I want in the moment for the sake of allowing more love into the world, for the flowering of God's gift of freedom.

I'm also aware, though, of another guiding text from the Gospel, excerpted from a paraphrase of the Bible I like, The Message:

When you practice some appetite-denying discipline to better concentrate on God, don't make a production out of it. It might turn you into a small-time celebrity but it won't make you a saint. If you "go into training" inwardly, act normal outwardly.

So there will be no blogging about my Lenten discipline! ;) Still, it's always heartening to be assured of company on the journey, so I welcome encouragement and support.