I teach a Bible study in our children’s program each Wednesday night. My class this year includes three 5th grade girls. They have a lot of energy, and we often seem at the brink of chaos, but we don’t plunge over the edge. If our society harnessed the energy of children, we’d end our dependence on fossil fuels.
Needless to say, our discussions are interesting. Last week this snippet of conversation took place:
Girl: “Next week that thing starts when we give up something. Right?”
Me: “Yes, it’s called Lent.”
“I’m going to give up sugar cookies. I love them.”
“Lots of people give up a special food. You can also pray or perform acts of kindness for others.”
“Hmm… Maybe I’ll give up wearing shorts instead.”
“It’s winter. Do you wear shorts now?”
“No.
“You should give up sugar cookies.”
From there the discussion veered into the virtues of skinny jeans. Later we worked on a puzzle completing lines from the Sermon on the Mount. The girls love puzzles, but they’re a little fuzzy on Lenten disciplines.
As am I. I’ve not settled on my Lenten discipline yet. Options include giving up donuts, like the girl’s pledge on sugar cookies. I could also help my wife more with laundry. That would be the useful choice. Problem is, these are things I ought to be doing anyway, not because of a season on the calendar.
A deeper problem, though, is that I just told you about my options. This is what makes me uneasy with Lenten disciplines, how openly we speak of them. Jesus warned against performing spiritual practices before others. “Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,” he said. Better to do them in secret. When piety goes public, it loses its benefit. After all, don’t you feel better about me now, knowing that I see a need to help my wife more with laundry? Watch me make laundry a Lenten discipline. I might even blog about it — like Julie wrote about Julia’s recipes.
It’s the same problem I see in downtown walks religious groups plan for Good Friday. A cross leads the walkers, who stop from place to place to talk and pray over social ills. A picture of the walk will appear in Saturday’s paper. As well intentioned as the walk is, it feels too attention seeking to me. You might as well “sound a trumpet.” Public piety — always a tricky thing.
Maybe I won’t observe any Lenten disciplines this year. But each day I eat a donut, I could put a load of laundry in the washer. That will make things even, I hope.
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ADDED: A collection of Lenten posts at the CCblogs network here.
