You’re Not Too Holy to Give Stuff Up for Lent

A popular trend in recent years has been to do something positive for Lent rather than to give something up. This ranges from the very challenging (see Kerry Weber’s Mercy in the City) to the more basic (to choose kindness in our daily actions). This seems to align with Pope Francis’ call to give up indifference to others for Lent. This is a positive development, but it should not displace giving stuff up for Lent, even those things that seem harmless and mundane.

As a kid, many people give up candy or soda or something else they enjoy for Lent. They do it because they are supposed to, because their parents or teachers tell them they should. Often they really don’t understand why. As they grow older, many stop practicing both the faith and these Lenten traditions, as cultural Catholicism seems to be evaporating. Some casual Catholics do continue to give things up for Lent, but it is not uncommon for these practices to resemble a self-help program or a diet to shed a few pounds. Those who enter adulthood as devout believers, including converts and reverts, often engage in what can be very challenging fasts, such as giving meat up for all of Lent. Others will take on a new prayer regiment or some other positive action for each day of Lent, sometimes replacing the practice of giving something up.

Combining positive actions with these daily sacrifices seems to be the best approach, one that challenges us to practice the virtues while helping to strip away the problematic practices and mentalities that prevent us from doing so.

We live in an exceptionally materialistic, consumeristic society, which views comfort and the avoidance of pain as the supreme values. Christian beliefs are often infected by these values, and even for devout believers, there is a struggle to break from the radical individualism and utilitarianism of our culture. Small doses of greed, selfishness, sloth, indifference, wrath, gluttony, lust, and envy slowly drip into the bloodstreams of our lives. No one escapes the deadliest poison: pride.

Lent is a critical time to wake ourselves up from the moral slumber into which we may have slipped during the rest of the year. Positive actions can wake us up, particularly if they are challenging and rigorous. But a commitment to kindness (on its own), for instance, is likely to fall flat if we are still bound by these unseen chains. As Aristotle and St. Thomas Aquinas remind us, virtue is built on habit. Mindfulness is critical to breaking the bad habits that evade our consciousness and stand in the way of living virtuously and joyfully.

While establishing the goal of being more kind or caring or thoughtful during Lent is undeniably a good idea, if this is to replace giving something up, we should ask ourselves if deep down we are looking for a way to maintain some of the comfort and pleasure we all enjoy. In our society, it is so easy to buy things we do not need and find a perfectly reasonable, logical reason for the purchase. We do not seem to have trouble on entirely rational grounds to not provide certain people with assistance. We must be careful not to find reasonable, logical grounds for making our Lenten journeys less spiritually challenging.

To be clear, there is nothing wrong with enjoying a soda, candy bar, or cup of coffee. Those of us with young kids would have little trouble offering up a passionate defense of coffee.  Likewise there is nothing wrong with wanting some measure of personal and economic security for one’s self and family. And there is nothing wrong with craving stability in our lives rather than chaos and upheaval. There is a place for a level of security and comfort in our lives. Prudence requires some consideration of utility. The bourgeois values of our culture are not wholly defective, which is precisely what makes them so dangerous.

The problem is when these desires begin to trump our commitment to do the will of God. The problem is when they lead us to be indifferent to the plight of the weak and vulnerable. The problem is when we acquiesce to structural sin and our commitment to being virtuous slips away silently without us even noticing. Our radical faith becomes soft and weak and safe.

Giving up something that we enjoy and use in excess can free our bodies and minds from harmful dependency. It can help to restore broken relationships. And there are certainly spiritual benefits to this. But giving up something that we enjoy and use in moderation can also free us. It can remind us that comfort is not King. Pleasure is not the supreme value. That we do not control the universe. And life’s meaning is not found in self-interest.

Giving up something that we enjoy on a regular basis does not make us holy. But it can strip away the mindlessness that makes it impossible to be holy. It can free us to pursue a life animated by love. It can realign our deepest values with our daily actions. It can allow the spiritual to penetrate our material lives and give them meaning and purpose.

So perhaps giving up sweets or caffeine might be more than a simple act of discipline and the first step toward greater devotion to God and a richer, fuller life.