What I Gave Up for Lent
I've tried giving things up for Lent before. As it seems to be for most people, it's most often been a food item. The problem with that (for me - I know it works for many Christians) is that Lent gets confused with dieting. When I start feeling proud of myself for cutting out whatever it is, not on the basis of being excited about my relationship with God, but on the basis that I'm weighing less and looking better, that's great but has little to do with Lent or getting closer to God. Nothing wrong with giving up midnight ice cream snacks, but I've realized I need to separate that from beginning a Lenten discipline.
So, what else to do? I've tried wearing only black during Lent (that was back when I had more black - and more clothes - in my wardrobe), resolving to do Morning Prayer every morning before breakfast, and taking on some sort of Christian education project with my children. As for the latter two (and the "faux dieting" Lenten disciplines), they're good things, but they're probably things I ought to be doing all year, not just during Lent. It's hard to find something that I can take on that I shouldn't be doing anyway, or something I can give up that I shouldn't have given up for good long ago. (Yes, I know there's also routine fasting, but I am sufficiently weak spiritually that I've never been able to make that work. When I'm hungry, I don't think about God... I think about food.)
So this year I gave up my watch for Lent.
It wasn't intentional, actually. My watch broke. Or maybe the battery the jewelry store just put in for me a couple of weeks ago wasn't any good. Either way, it doesn't tell time anymore. My first thought was, "I need a watch." We don't have a lot of spare cash, but I figured I'd buy something pretty cheap, and I have to confess I'm pretty high on anyone's list of people who really should have watches. That is to say, I'm late almost everywhere. So my temptation was to go out the first chance I got and buy the cheapest working watch I could find. (Either that or go back and fuss at the jewelry store that sold me the battery and see what they could do with it.)
Then I came up with a rather ludicrous idea for a chronic late-runner: why not give up my watch for Lent? After all, I do own a cell phone with a clock, and I have clocks in my home and in my car, so I wouldn't actually be ignorant of the time. I still wouldn't have an excuse to be late. And it wasn't as though my watch was doing much to help me be on time; the fact that I have four children is usually to blame for that, and no amount of watching the watch will keep the two-year-old from needing a diaper change just as we're walking out the door. What made me convinced that this was the right thing to do was realizing, after I took the non-functioning watch off my wrist, just how often I look at my watch. I don't just look at it when I'm trying to get somewhere or wondering if it's time to get the kids home to bed. I look at it all the time. I look at it when I'm bored, when I'm wondering what's next, while I'm nursing the baby. I rely on it not just to get me places on time, but to mark out the parts of my life. To pass the time, not just tell the time.
I've always found it spiritually invigorating not to have the things I expect to have. It's hard to imagine until you have your purse stolen how much one relies on the simple fact of having one's keys, one's credit card, cell phone, driver's license, lip balm, Advil, whatever else is in the purse. It's not just the use value of those things, it's the security of having them. Not wearing a watch has been a much simpler (and less potentially ruinous to my credit) way of achieving the same effect; every time I look at my wrist and the watch isn't there, I have this jolt of minor panic and then realization. As a Christian, I shouldn't gain my security from stuff, however useful and even necessary. I shouldn't be just marking my time on earth. It's that slight jolt out of my comfort zone that I've found valuable.
And yes, I probably will buy another watch or get mine fixed after Lent. It's easier than digging out my cell phone to find the time. But I hope I'll look at it less often.
- KPE
So, what else to do? I've tried wearing only black during Lent (that was back when I had more black - and more clothes - in my wardrobe), resolving to do Morning Prayer every morning before breakfast, and taking on some sort of Christian education project with my children. As for the latter two (and the "faux dieting" Lenten disciplines), they're good things, but they're probably things I ought to be doing all year, not just during Lent. It's hard to find something that I can take on that I shouldn't be doing anyway, or something I can give up that I shouldn't have given up for good long ago. (Yes, I know there's also routine fasting, but I am sufficiently weak spiritually that I've never been able to make that work. When I'm hungry, I don't think about God... I think about food.)
So this year I gave up my watch for Lent.
It wasn't intentional, actually. My watch broke. Or maybe the battery the jewelry store just put in for me a couple of weeks ago wasn't any good. Either way, it doesn't tell time anymore. My first thought was, "I need a watch." We don't have a lot of spare cash, but I figured I'd buy something pretty cheap, and I have to confess I'm pretty high on anyone's list of people who really should have watches. That is to say, I'm late almost everywhere. So my temptation was to go out the first chance I got and buy the cheapest working watch I could find. (Either that or go back and fuss at the jewelry store that sold me the battery and see what they could do with it.)
Then I came up with a rather ludicrous idea for a chronic late-runner: why not give up my watch for Lent? After all, I do own a cell phone with a clock, and I have clocks in my home and in my car, so I wouldn't actually be ignorant of the time. I still wouldn't have an excuse to be late. And it wasn't as though my watch was doing much to help me be on time; the fact that I have four children is usually to blame for that, and no amount of watching the watch will keep the two-year-old from needing a diaper change just as we're walking out the door. What made me convinced that this was the right thing to do was realizing, after I took the non-functioning watch off my wrist, just how often I look at my watch. I don't just look at it when I'm trying to get somewhere or wondering if it's time to get the kids home to bed. I look at it all the time. I look at it when I'm bored, when I'm wondering what's next, while I'm nursing the baby. I rely on it not just to get me places on time, but to mark out the parts of my life. To pass the time, not just tell the time.
I've always found it spiritually invigorating not to have the things I expect to have. It's hard to imagine until you have your purse stolen how much one relies on the simple fact of having one's keys, one's credit card, cell phone, driver's license, lip balm, Advil, whatever else is in the purse. It's not just the use value of those things, it's the security of having them. Not wearing a watch has been a much simpler (and less potentially ruinous to my credit) way of achieving the same effect; every time I look at my wrist and the watch isn't there, I have this jolt of minor panic and then realization. As a Christian, I shouldn't gain my security from stuff, however useful and even necessary. I shouldn't be just marking my time on earth. It's that slight jolt out of my comfort zone that I've found valuable.
And yes, I probably will buy another watch or get mine fixed after Lent. It's easier than digging out my cell phone to find the time. But I hope I'll look at it less often.
- KPE
posted by The Eastvold Blog at 6:26 AM
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