More on Lent…
More thoughts on Lent, including a clarification:
To clarify: I am not categorically against the idea of “giving up” something for Lent.
Especially for young people or relatively new Christians, giving up soda pop or chocolate or Facebook or something similar may be entirely appropriate as a teaching and learning experience.
It’s just that after awhile you need to move beyond that.
In more mature Christians especially, I think you need to think more strategically about what you’re giving up. You want to shun those things that distance you from God and move toward those things that bring you closer.
In that vein, Linda and I are both embracing a more positive approach to Lent this year.
Following a hint from Nadia Bolz-Weber, Linda is celebrating all the people and experiences that bring her joy.
Following a hint from Ginger Rothaas, I am celebrating all the people and things I love.
We’re both recording these things as they occur to us in a Lenten journal.
Ginger’s suggestion is to record one love for each year of your life. Following that pattern, I need to record 77 loves – and maybe one more because I’ll be a year older in another month.
So far I’ve got 11. Rather than listing each person individually, I’ve grouped them as Immediate Family, Extended Family, Church Family, Good Neighbors, and so on. Maybe if I run out of ideas in a few weeks, I’ll celebrate people one by one by name.
Anyway, that’s what we mean by marking a positive Lent rather than a negative one. If repentance really means setting new directions, then careful consideration of all the loves and joys of your life is surely the start of a new direction.
What do you think? Am I avoiding the issue here, or getting closer to it?
* * * * *
In a recent blog on forgiveness, slightly renegade Anglican Bishop Todd Hunter recalls an encounter that has helped him understand the importance of forgiving.
He writes:
“In a conference setting I cannot remember, a young man came up to Dallas Willard seeking forgiveness for an unkind, unfair comment he had made against him. Dallas always had a warm, welcoming presence about him, but in this moment his eyes softened even more. The gentleness of Dallas’ face, the peace exuding from his body language, signaled no retaliation or rejection was about to happen.
“Instead, with a tone full of love, Dallas simply said, ‘Thank you—but don’t give it another thought on my account. You are off the hook. You are free.’ ”
I find the language intriguing. “You are off the hook. You are free.”
The expression derives from fishing, of course. When you release a fish, or it evades the hook on its own, it is no longer captive. It is free.
When you forgive someone, you let them off the hook. You set them free. You also set yourself free, if you were harboring any resentment against them.
According to various dictionary renderings, getting off the hook means escaping from a difficult situation, escaping from an obligation, or escaping the consequences of an action or a punishment that you deserve because of an action.
And isn’t that what Jesus has done for us? Hasn’t he let us off the hook for our sins for our many failures to love God and others as we love ourselves? Hasn’t he freed us from some of the consequences of our actions?
And, depending on how you want to interpret this, hasn’t he placed himself on the hook for us?
To think of it that way, you don’t have to subscribe to the awful doctrine known as Penal Substitutional Atonement. You just have to know that Jesus has let you off the hook and set you free. That’s enough in my book.
Have a happy Lent!