PRAYER, FASTING AND ALMSGIVING

One of the old Lenten disciplines admonishes us that if we are to keep a holy Lent, what we need to do is engage in prayer, fasting and almsgiving – all three. One is not enough; neither is two. For each of threes three disciplines requires something different from us. Each requires the other if we are to emerge whole after Lent.

We begin with prayer. When we pray, what we are in essence doing is bringing God closer into our lives. Prayer is a deliberate intention on our part to recognize the God who created and sustains us, that without this God we are unable to be and become the person God created us to be/come. And when we ask God to come closer into our lives, we recognize that we cannot and will not be the same afterwards. So, it is a mighty dangerous thing to bring the Almighty closer to us – frightening, too!

Then there is the admonition to fast: to let go of those wants that get in the way of God and concentrate on our needs, which are always much less than our wants which never end. They disguise and sell themselves as needs. That is why fasting is so important. It allows us to recognize and distinguish wants from needs.

Then when we fast not only from food but from some of those unneeded material comforts we desire, what we are doing is allowing ourselves to understand just how easy it is to succumb to wanting and going after more and more. And, of course, when we do that, we are separating ourselves further and further form God. That is why we need to bring God closer to us through prayer so that God will give us the ability to discern wants from needs and the strength to overcome the call to selfishness.

All of which brings us to the almsgiving. Not only must we want to draw closer to God in and through prayer, not only must we recognize the innate desire to seek after that which can make our life easier, so also must we recognize that we already have more than we ever need or can use. The need to give of ourselves, of our abundance, and blessings, if it is not innate, it is at least demanded once we bring God closer into our lives.

We have been abundantly blessed, you and I. Our God-given talents and abilities that have allowed us to obtain material possessions such as most of the world cannot imagine let alone dream of possessing, they have been given to us to share with those who have been less blessed. Why God has so blessed us is only for God to know. What God lets us know through prayer and fasting is that we must use some of those gifts for others. If we do not, the reason is that we either have not called God closer into our lives through prayer, have not examined our wants and needs through some form of fastening/abstinence/letting go, or both.

Lent is a time, but not the only time, to pray, fast and give our ourselves. Life is that time. But Lent is surely a good time to start what should be a lifetime of living.

TO FAST

Lent is fast approaching, no pun intended. When some of us think of Lent, we think about the Lenten fast, about giving up, about self-denial. Those “some” who do this thinking are usually those who are somewhat advanced in years when spiritual and physical discipline were part and parcel of our Christian life. Today, the idea of fasting has gone the way of the hand lawn mower. When my children hear the word fast, they think in terms of speed and not, if you will, simply slowing down and taking a good look at where you are heading – which is one of the reasons for the Lenten season in the first place. And even for those of us who do fast or do some sort of spiritual discipline during Lent, speed is sometimes also of essence: how fast can we get this over with so that we can go back to an easier life style? Yet we all tend to give at least lip service, if not to the idea of fasting, at least to the belief that during Lent one should be engaged in some sort of spiritual and physical  discipline. Sometimes we even make the effort to be so engaged.

The right intention, of course, is what is important. I may indeed fast during Lent; I may give up all desserts and sweets; I may not eat between meals. If I do so because I want to strengthen my spiritual life by weakening my attraction to physical pleasures, then my intention is well and good. But if my intention is primarily to find a religious excuse to go on a diet, then my intention leaves something to be desired. What is important is that we begin to understand what fasting us all about, why the church encourages us to engage in such spiritual and physical disciplines, and how they might apply to our daily lives especially during Lent.

A friend of my once said to me that he understood fasting as letting go of their things that get in the way of God. I don’t know about you, but there are lots of those things in my life: food sometimes being there at the top of the list. In fact, there are a lot of life’s little and big pleasures that I enjoy that call out to me, want me to make them gods in my life. It is in Lent that the church asks me to try to get a handle on these gods of my life, these pleasures that want me to look out for good old Number One. It is during Lent that I am called to let go of those gods and grab hold of God.

That is not easy. Pleasure has a wonderful way of enticing us to do that which we know we should not do and making it seem all right. Denial, on the other hand, does not come with built-in pleasure. What it does come with is delayed satisfaction, delayed gratification. I used to jog a lot. Most of the time I hated the pain that went with it. But the satisfaction that came with completing a jog made it all worthwhile. Pleasure, instant gratification, comes up front and it is just that: instant. Delayed gratification is also just that: delayed. But it lasts. And it seems that it is only when we delay gratification and pleasure that we get a handle of what we are really seeking. Our souls are restless until they rest in God. But we never discover that until we take and make the time to realize that truth. That is Lent: letting go of the things that get in the way of God so that we can grab hold of God.

HERESY IS STILL WITH US

The earl Church Fathers and Councils believed that they had dealt with all the heresies that could ever plague the church. They were probably correct: they had dealt with them, condemned them, warned us about them. But they never eliminated them. Just because we tell someone that something is wrong does not mean they will believe us. They still want to touch the stove to prove it was hot as we said that it was.

For instance, we want to believe that if we are good enough, do what is good and right, we will be blessed. And we believe that the better we are, the more we will be blessed. We also believe that the bad that comes our way is the direct result of our sins. Good is the result of good. Bad is the result of bad “What did I do to deserve this (good or bad)?” we ask. “I must have done something,” we conclude. Quid quo pro. Right?

Not necessarily. Just as the good that comes our way is not either in direct proportion to the good we do nor the result of that same goodness, so neither is the bad that comes our way. In or humble moments we will grant that we really are not worthy of God’s graciousness. But even in our most penitential moments we find it difficult to accept the fact that any bad that happens to us is not the direct result of some bad that we have done sometime, somewhere.

God’s grace and God’s love do not depend on how moral or immoral we are. Now I will grant that good begets good and bad begets bad. The more good we do, the more likely we will do even more good and be a better person. The opposite is just as true. It is always easier the second time around: doing good or doing something not good. We know that. We do not need some Church Father, some declaration from on high, some lecture from priest or parent: good keeps us out of trouble and bad gets us into it. But we also we know deep within us that God’s grace is simply that: grace, freely given with no strings attached and no reason other than God’s love for us.

We know that, as well, yet somehow, we still think we need to do something to earn God’s love. Whether it is God’s love or the love of a spouse or the love of another, it is always freely given and does not depend on the reciprocity of the one loved. Never! Otherwise, it is not love. It may be something good and wonderful; but whatever it is, it is not unconditional love, which is what is supposed to be.

“Yes, but…,” we insist. But there are no “buts” about it: none whatsoever. And the sooner we learn that, the sooner we will be able to accept the grace of God for what it is: God’s innate and total love for us no matter what. NO MATTER WHAT, what we do or do not do. Our sins have ben forgiven, always will be, NO MATTER WHAT. And our response? “Yes, but…”

Heresy is still with us.

DOGS, FAT CATS AND JELLY BEANS

I love dogs. Dogs love me. I also love jelly beans. They love me, too, as too many of them cause a bulge around my midsection. I don’t like cats – fat cats, skinny cats: cats. I don’t like them because they don’t like me.

The summer after I graduated from college, I sent several weeks working in a parish on Chicago’s Southside. When I arrived home in late August, I discovered that a big, fat cat (she was pregnant) had made her home on the side of our house, As I walked up the steps carrying my suitcase, the cat, who later became known as Gertrude, was sunning herself on the porch. She took one look at me, hissed, and took off. From that moment on, until I left three weeks later to go back to seminary, she avoided me.

A week after our first encounter, Gertrude gave birth to five offspring. As my Mom told the story, as I walked out the front door, suitcases in hand, Gertrude walked in the back door, litter trailing behind, to make herself at home. And she did for the next ten years. Every time I returned home from seminary or for a visit after ordination, I somehow knew I was doing so with Gertrude’s grudging permission.

I truly have nothing against cats. God must have had a good reason to create them, perhaps only to torment me and those of my ilk. Now, lest I incur the wrath of half the population, and especially my little sister who adores them, let me hasten to add that there is probably an internal reason why cats and I don’t get along: after three days in the same house with a cat, I acquire The Cat’s Revenge: my eyes water and my nose runs.

None of this happens with dogs. Dogs don’t make my eyes water and don’t put on pounds like jelly beans. It’s like the problem of evil: how can a good God create something good (a cat) that will cause a good person (me) to not get along? The answer? Beats me!

The reason why cats and I don’t get along should be the least of my worries. What I should really worry about is not why I like dogs and cats don’t like me. What I should worry about are those jelly beans: not why I love them (why not?), but why I eat too many of them when I know I should not.

The love-dog, hate-cat problem is beyond my control. I can’t help it if I like dogs and I can’t stop my nose from running while around cats for too long a time. But I can stop eating all those jelly beans. It is that which is under my control and which I do not maintain control that is my real worry, or should be.

All this is simply a reminder that if you are like me, we often worry more about that over which we have no control and less about the over which we do. And that over which we do is what usually gets us into trouble. We need to worry about that!