When we face temptation, we tend to avoid admitting we’re tempted, said an article in the magazine. We look the other way. We say, I don’t really need that. Sometimes we try the sour grapes approach: I’m sure it’s not as good as it looks. What we rarely do, when faced with a temptation, is look at it dead-on and say, I want it. I really want it. And I will not have it.
Women’s Health may have been talking about avoiding chocolate cake, but for me this observation was pure theology. It reminded me that giving something up at Lent should not just be about the act of making a sacrifice: it’s also about the act of identifying that which tempts us. What I had been missing in my Lenten sacrifice was the admission of my temptations.
When I first began to observe Lent, I was careful in the selection of what I would give up, making sure I chose something that would really pinch - something that, on a daily, sometimes hourly basis, required me to examine some aspect of my life. The choice felt solemn to me, as it was a way – however small – to know the sacrifice of Christ.
But as I grew more accustomed to the idea of Lent, my motives became more about self-improvement than sacrifice. (Perhaps I’m not the only one who has given up desserts for Lent as a religiously-enforced diet plan.) My choices of what to give up were cheapened because my motives were questionable. When I stopped to think about my motives, I found that my choices seemed unbearably deficient compared to the sacrifice of Christ.
Women’s Health reminded me that a sacrifice is as much about facing temptation as it is about going without. Desires are strongest when the possibility of fulfilling them is tangibly close. Knowing what tempts us tells us a lot about our spiritual state and the unmet needs in our lives. The Devil tempted Christ with food, safety and power: Christ faced these temptations and sacrificed immediate gratification.
This year, my Lenten commitment is to give up every unnecessary purchase. Sure, it will be a sacrifice to go without the occasional vanilla latte, but I think I’ll feel a greater pinch in the grocery store aisles as I hold a carton of ice cream and attempt to determine if it qualifies as a necessary item. Will I redefine “necessary” to make the ice cream permissible? I think facing my temptations will reveal a lot about my relationship to money, and about how I spend money to comfort myself or show love to others.
My sacrifices will still be petty compared to those of Christ, but that comparison is unfair. What I can ask of myself is an unflinching honesty to face the pinch of Lent – both the temptation and the sacrifice – and emerge stronger 40 days later.
– Amber Johnson
