Taking on, not giving up.

Before I came to Tyndale, I had heard of Lent, but knew absolutely nothing about it. Being raised in a conservative Protestant home you get a lot of iconoclasm like that. Man, do we hate Catholicism. When I came to Tyndale, George Sweetman talked about the purpose of Lent, which I've forgotten most of, but now I at least know that it's 40 days before Easter, it starts on Ash Wednesday, and it typically involves giving up luxury items or pleasures of some kind, something that's important to you or habitual.

That year I gave up alcohol, forgetting that St. Patrick's day falls within the Lenten season. But I don't do a whole lot of drinkin' so it wasn't a big deal for me, and I didn't really reflect on God or whatever during those times I wasn't drinking, so in the end I just saved a bit of money for Lent, I guess. I haven't observed Lent the past few years, because I didn't really see the point. One time a man asked me what I gave up and I smugly told him "abstinence and sobriety". On the one hand, I don't have a lot of habits or other things that would be considered vices or luxury items or pleasures. None really come to mind, and I don't see the point in giving up something trifling.

Today I was talking with a friend who gave me a new perspective on Lent. Too many people, he says, see Lenten vows as something like New Year's resolutions, a distinct and measurable point in time where you made a sacrifice, turned over a new leaf, as it were. This is what I had always thought it was, which is part of the reason I wasn't really feeling Lent this year. But he suggested that Lent for him is not necessarily giving something up, but taking something on, for the sake of Christ. He told me that this year he has purposed to take on reading Scripture every day for Lent, and I have decided to do the same.