Prepare With Joy
Suffering publicly and loudly is its own reward. When you fast or prepare in any other way, suffering is optional.
In his classic novel, The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis has a senior devil teach his nephew how to twist a person’s attempts at devotion into acts of malice. As we begin Lent, we approach a time when temptations abound. I ask those readers who aren’t churchgoers to bear with me. The same traps exist for you in different situations.
Mardi Gras was February 17th, and Lent began on February 18th. Easter will be on April 5th. The Eastern Orthodox churches have a slightly different calendar. For them, Lent begins on Monday, February 23rd, and Pascha, their Easter, is on April 12th.
Jesus gives Christians a command on how to act during any period of fasting. These rules apply at any time of difficulty or effort.
Matthew 6: 16-18 - Christian Standard Bible
16 “Whenever you fast, don’t be gloomy like the hypocrites. For they disfigure their faces so that their fasting is obvious to people. Truly, I tell you, they have their reward. 17 But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, 18 so that your fasting isn’t obvious to others but to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
Members of the Roman Catholic Church mark the start of Lent with Ash Wednesday. I am not criticizing that symbolism. It is a one-day action. Smiling and joy are allowed. His guidance here is for fasting in general.
The fasting guidelines apply to any difficulty, including matters unrelated to religion. We all have commitments, causes, and concerns. Short-term issues include Lent, a cold, or studying for an entrance or professional exam. Long-term concerns include child-rearing, chronic health issues, family concerns, and commitments to social or political causes. Some issues in our lives are involuntary. The offers we make for Lent are voluntary. In either case, we can view them as a burden or as an offering to God.
What am I thinking and feeling about this issue? How am I acting toward others? What do I want them to know and what do I want them to do? Do you know someone who raises the same issue every time you see them and talk about nothing else? On the other hand, do you know someone who has serious difficulties but rarely mentions them?
The time we give to these matters in our minds and our speech is important. If we dwell on them, we magnify them. We are also tempted to judge others if we think they should be as diligent about an action or issue as we are.
Lewis’s Screwtape urges his nephew to get his target to judge other church members on their piety during the service. Lent is a time when many are tempted to determine whether others are observing the season as faithfully as they should. In the secular world, there are many ways to judge others as mean, selfish, or otherwise cruel. The epithets are endless: racist, bigot, sexist, deniers, and a basket of “phobes.” People who label others with these tags consider themselves morally pure because others aren’t as resolute.
H. L. Mencken was a famous Baltimore newspaperman of mixed moral values. But he devised very pointed comments. He described Puritanism as “the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.” That is the choice we have when we are dealing with any issue or concern. Do we want to insist that the rest of the world join us in our misery? Or do we “put oil on our heads and wash our faces” and let the world deal with its own joys and sorrows?
We can let the appropriate people know about the problem. If you know a professional or specialist, ask for advice. Ask friends for prayers. Someone who will lend you an ear or shoulder for a time gives you a wonderful gift. But bleeding over everybody you meet is different. Sharing good news is great. Sharing troubles is different.
I saw this in my family. We had relatives who were hypochondriacs and spoke of almost nothing but their ailments. We joked that their headstones would read, “See! I told you I was sick!”
On the other hand, my mother had a combination of serious and excruciatingly painful problems that the doctors at Johns Hopkins Hospital were having trouble diagnosing. They were calling it hypochondria, and it infuriated her. She talked about the visits but didn’t dwell on them. We could see the pain on her face, but she didn’t talk about it. Sometimes she would comment that she was having a “bad day,” but that was all. The doctors finally diagnosed it as an actual problem. She was suffering massive pain in her neck area, which drove up her blood pressure. They planned surgery, but she died of a stroke first.’
My father could easily have spent his life talking about his problems to everyone. Every so often, he would briefly mention some incident in his childhood and how difficult it had been for his family. It was a statement. He didn’t dwell on it.
Dad used humor to deal with life. He made everyone laugh instead of talking about his problems. When he was in his mid-seventies, he developed cancer. Dad always had a great head of hair. He said he was going to be the best-looking corpse in the cemetery.
There is a simple point to remember when you are around others. They have their own lives and priorities. They don’t want to spend their days listening to your complaints when they can’t do anything about them. A straightforward request is fine. That is something they can agree to, decline, or offer an alternative. The Yiddish word kvetch describes a permanent, industrial-strength complainer. No one wants to be around someone like that.
Besides, if you listen rather than complain, you might find out that your troubles aren’t as bad as the other person’s.