Thursday, March 7, 2019

The Unbiblical Tradition of Lent

March 6, 2019, known to some as "Ash Wednesday," was marked across a surprisingly large segment of the Reformed community—especially including many pastors—of a tradition that is abhorrent and offensive, contrary to the Gospel, and harmful to the church.

These brothers, who brazenly take up this tradition year after year, threaten the integrity of the Reformed church community and do damage to many through their practices. Yet, they persist in their annual practice, never missing a year nor easing off of the relentless observance they insist upon. In fact, they are zealous to recruit others to their tradition.

I've watched this happen each year for the duration of the existence of social media. I am convinced that this "Lenten" tradition is utterly unbiblical, and is an affront to living out the Gospel faithfully.

I'm speaking, of course, of the annual tradition some Reformed Christians have of berating their brothers and sisters in Christ for adopting the practice of observing the liturgical calendar.

No, it's not the truly historical Lenten traditions that I find so unbiblical and such a challenge to Gospel living, but the caustic reactions and responses of those who insist on mocking and satirizing those who observe the historic Lenten traditions. Year after year, my brothers (it's always men) make much of how little they think of the practices of Lent, and by extension of those who practice them. Fellow pastors set aside their work of edifying and building up the church to publicly abuse brothers and sisters in Christ for their attempts at piety.

I know many, many Christians who observe Lent in the more historic ways. Ironically, I cannot recall a single time when one of them sought to convince someone else to adopt the same practices, and certainly no occasion when it was suggested that those who abstained from any Lenten observance were somehow in the wrong or "less than faithful" to the Gospel.

Instead, many of them seek out an opportunity to have ashes marked across their foreheads in a recognition that the reality of death—ashes to ashes, dust to dust—is worth remembering, as it sweetens the parallel reality that, in Christ, death has lost its sting. Many will take up fasting or abstention regularly over the weeks to come in a desire to be drawn nearer to Christ in their dependence on him. They will allow their focus to fall upon the mourning and grief for sin that required the death of our Savior. They will savor the "already/not yet" reality of Christ's finished, yet not fully consummated, work of redemption.

Which of these is a bad thing?

Some despise the ashes tradition. Okay... but moments before he raised his friend Lazarus from the dead, Jesus wept; would we say that his tears cheapened the finished work that he himself accomplished? Why then do some insist that the practices of Lent must mean a failure to recognize the finished work of Christ?

Some joke about Lenten abstentions as "not real fasts"—which is true to a point. But to paraphrase Dwight Moody, "I like their way of fasting better than your way of not fasting." Jesus clearly expected his disciples to fast (see Matthew 6), but the only Christians I know who fast—ever—are those who observe the liturgical calendar.

One of my acquaintances posted this quote from Walter Bruggemann on his social media today:
I imagine Lent for you and for me as a great departure from the greedy, anxious antineighborliness of our economy, a great departure from our exclusionary politics that fears the other, a great departure from self-indulgent consumerism that devours creation. And then an arrival in a new neighborhood, because it is a gift to be simple, it is a gift to be free; it is a gift to come down where we ought to be.
I like that. And here's the great irony of this decades-old tradition of running down Lent before others: one group is seeking to set aside anti-neighborliness while the other group is taking it up especially against their fellow Christians. One side is striving to depart from the self-indulgence that devours creation, while the other side has seized upon this opportunity to devour their brothers and sisters. One set of Christians is setting aside time over the days and weeks to come to look ahead, with longing and anticipation, for a new Jerusalem and the fulfillment and unity that will come with it; another set of Christians is stamping their feet about the "finished work of Christ" while dividing themselves from the rest of the body his finished work was meant to bring together.

It boils down to this: one group of Christians, in their practices of observing Lent, are trying to practice their faith with piety and spiritual discipline. The other group of Christians are watching this and mocking it; they are making fun of their fellow believers for their efforts toward spiritual growth.

Mature Christians don't do that. Believers who take Jesus' command, that "this is how they will know you are my disciples: that you love one another"—don't do that.

I'm not out to convince anyone that, in order to be faithful to Christ, they must take up the observance of the liturgical calendar. I'm not arguing that Lent and its practices are necessary for spiritual health or growth. I'm not even claiming that those who believe Lent to be a distracting practice or an unhelpful innovation are wrong to think that (although I disagree, I respect their right to their position).

My point is simply this: if you believe that the practice of Lent is sinful, there's a process for how that should be handled within the church (hint: it doesn't have anything to do with social media) and you should sincerely and earnestly seek out your brother or sister and address that with them. That's a good and healthy thing for Christians to do.

If you're not willing to do that—either because you don't really think it's a sin but just a bad idea, or because you don't have the spiritual fortitude to step up on behalf of your fellow Christians like that—then you should just stop. Your mocking social media posts aren't convincing anyone of anything, except perhaps that you don't love the Gospel or understand Christ's finished work quite as much as you seem to think you do.