I Hate Lent

Welcome to Lent.

Lent is a season of 40 days, excluding Sundays, throughout which Christians around the world mark Jesus' journey from Galilee to his Crucifixion and Resurrection in Jerusalem. It is a season of penitence and serious elf-assessment, beginning on Ash Wednesday, when we focus on the power of human sinfulness, and ending on Holy Saturday, with Jesus dead in a borrowed tomb. It is the story of both a failed revolutionary movement and the success of spiritual liberation from the twin powers of sin and death.

Why are Sundays not counted in the season of Lent? I am glad that you asked.

In the Christian world, Sunday is Resurrection Day, a celebration of new life and a recognition of the vitality that God works even when situations seems hopeless and impossible. It is a day of work. It is not Sabbath. Sabbath, a day of rest that takes place on the seventh day, is Saturday. Sunday, the first day of the new week, is a day of new possibilities and spiritual potential now turned into kinetic energies in and through the Church that bears Jesus' name. One cannot both celebrate the new, resurrected life in Christ with a journey to the Cross of his sacrifice. Therefore, Sundays are not counted within the season of Lent.

For those of you who are engaging in the spiritual discipline of giving up something for the season, you are correct in not counting Sundays. However, for the sake of going the second mile in your discipline, those of you who gave up something may wish to extend your discipline to Sundays as well. I have chosen to do so this year, as I have done in the past.

Why is Lent such a bummer? Goodness, you are just full of good questions today!

Walking to a Cross is never celebrated. The Roman practice of Crucifixion was the height of humiliation and deterrence. It was not just punishment for crimes against the empire. Much more than that, Crucifixion was an intentional sign for all who might be led to practice sedition against Roman Rule. Persons who actually attempted revolt against the Romans were arrested, publicly flogged, derided and debased, normally marched naked through the streets and nailed to huge wooden beams that were hoisted high into the air, overlooking the city, in order to deter any other potential revolutionary. The death was slow and agonizing. The cause of death was normally asphyxiation, after reaching a point at which the physical body could no longer support itself and the torso collapsed in on the lungs and diaphragm. It normally took days for death to release prisoners from their suffering.

Even after death, Crucifixion continued. Dead bodies were left on crosses, hoisted high above the cities, for all to witness the punishment that results from attempted revolt. The bodies remained for days, weeks or months, until they literally rotted from their posts. The bodies were not collected by families or friends, but fell to the ground below, where they were consumed by wild animals and continued to decompose. Piles on bones mounted on the grounds that surrounded the place of Crucifixion as ongoing symbols of Roman power and the fate that met all who may attempt overthrow.

Crucifixion is ugly and gruesome. It is the worst sort of public punishment and humiliation. In Lent, we walk with Jesus toward his intentional, purposeful embrace of Crucifixion. Perhaps Jesus assumed that the poor for whom he was willing to suffer and die would arise in revolt at such a sight as their Messiah being hoisted above the city of Jerusalem. They did not, however. Even his closest followers deserted him. Only his mother and Mary Magdalene and some other women remained. Only they saw it all.

Lent is a season of asking where in the story might we betray him. Where might we flee into the welcoming arms of life-as-normal and away from the self-sacrifice of Christ? Where do we find ourselves in collusion with the ways of world and align ourselves against him, shouting with the crowds to "Crucify him! Crucify him?" Where do we find ourselves denying knowledge of or allegiance with him? Where do we run away from him, escaping our own sacrifice?

Lent is not a happy or joyous walk, but a necessary one. In order to genuinely embrace the celebrations of Easter, we must first walk, heads bowed down, to and through the streets of Jerusalem, naked and humiliated, facing the most painful of all deaths. For out of that sacrifice comes new life, a resurrection hope, a vision of a new world for every person in every place.

So, we walk with him.