Throughout a significant portion of Christendom, a couple of weeks ago marked the beginning of the Lenten Season with the starting point being, of course, Ash Wednesday. It is a tradition both rich in history, significance and not a little abuse - the most notable of the latter being the wild day of debauchery immediately preceding known as Fat Tuesday. While Ash Wednesday is supposed to replicate a period of forty days of spiritual reflection, fasting, repentance and sacrifice - Fat Tuesday is more like a bachelor party.
The term Fat Tuesday is the anglicized translation of the French words, Marti Gras. So...is anyone surprised that getting glassy-eyed, drooly plastered and indulging in as much lewdness, leering, lust, lechery, lasciviousness, and leeching as possible – carries with it a French connection? "Oui! I am about to embark on zee season of fasting, prayer, Almsgiving, and deep reflection regarding zee Passion of zee Christ. Come; let us get skunk-faced!"
Lest you think I am being overly harsh on the French, I will humbly acknowledge that just eight days after the beginning of the Lenten Season, when we are supposed to be thinking seriously about our personal wretchedness, the Irish offer us a Lenten "time-out" known as St. Patrick's Day. Last year, as our Celtic Band played at the local pub for St. Paddy’s, I felt as though I were sitting in the midst of the “end o’day” scene from the movie, The Matrix. It was sweaty, pulsating, malodorous, loud and confusing. I had to crowd surf to get to the bathroom. This year I decided to not wear my kilt. (Please contact me on Facebook for a list of reasons). St. Paddy’s Day has become Fat Tuesday on crack.
There was a paucity of religious observances in the tradition in which I was raised. We said a few words about Christmas and Easter; but otherwise we were markedly, "low church". We had no affinity for such high church traditions as Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Pentecost Sunday, Advent and such. And, we sure the heck didn’t acknowledge any Saints, except for the St. Louis Cardinals.
We really didn’t need a special season to feel bad about ourselves. Our preachers pretty much took up that issue every Sunday. As a child, I was raised with bromides. (Note: Bromides: The term "bromide" derives from the antiquated use of certain bromide salts in medicine - usually sodium bromide but also potassium bromide - as a mild tranquilizer or sedative). Brother Bill, as we called him, from a church in our area, loved to thunder: “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” It was his favorite aphorism, which, because of consistent overuse, became a bromide. After awhile, it lost its ability to trouble, much less terrify. It made us sleepy.
Most of the sermons could be broken down into three basic categories: “You don’t come enough! You don’t do enough! You don’t give enough!” If it was a really long sermon, the preacher could easily cover all three. At one revival meeting I attended, the Preacher shouted: “John was called the Baptist! He baptized Jesus! Therefore - Jesus was a Baptist!” (It would be years later that I would become enamored of the discipline of philosophy where I studied, among other things, the area of logic. Within that broad category is the sub-category of deductive reasoning. A decent example of good deductive reason would go like this: 1) All birds sing 2) A Robin is a bird 3) Therefore, Robins sing. A flawed example of deductive reasoning would go something like this: 1) All birds sing 2) My daughter Molly sings 3) Molly is a bird. Or, see above: Jesus was a Baptist).
Sadly, in the past, I have tried to motivate people, congregations, my wife and my kids through guilt. It only works until they are out of site. It also causes resentment. There are three things I have learned about by trying to motivate people in this way: 1) Guilt-tripping is too much work – you always have to raise the bar. 2) It carries within itself the seeds of its own destruction – eventually people will flee because they already feel pretty poorly about themselves absent my input; and, 3) Guilty Christians are an oxymoron and therefore unattractive. Proselytizing becomes a non-issue – why would a stranger to the faith exchange one misery that they are accustomed to for one which requires missing pre-game during the football season?
The announcement of strict religious observance seems instinctively to set off a rebellion of panic within most people. Whether it is a seasonal thing like Lent, or a steady dose such as I received in my formative years - there is a yin and yang, a good and an evil, a Luke & a Darth wandering about and at war within all of us. We can only take so much of rules, regulations, and sacrifices, before we explode. Every Ash Wednesday seems to demand its Fat Tuesday.
But, is that point of Christianity – causing people to explode – or to always feel like exploding? Are we promoting a schizophrenic religion that pushes for seasons of sorrow that is preceded by, interrupted and followed by Athenian decadence? Is that a good plan? I think not. You see, I do not feel any particular loyalty to either increased depravity or augmented religiosity. They can both be traps that leave us alienated from our true purpose.
Jesus stared down this dichotomy in response to His critics with these words…
For John [the Baptist] came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is proved right by her deeds.” Matthew 11:18,10
Do you get that? John the Baptist lived the life of Lent – every day of his life. And, without meaning to sound at all blasphemous or disrespectful of Jesus - the rap coming from his critics seemed to suggest that He represented a version of Fat Tuesday every day of His life.
The larger point to be made is that neither life – one that appeared outwardly austere or one that appeared outwardly free, could please the expectations of established, organized religion. Why? - Because the rules always change and the goalposts are always on the move. One man’s spirituality is another man’s burden. One man’s freedom is another man’s sin.
For the Christian – for the one who truly understands the freedom we have in Christ – the freedom for which it was His purpose to live and to die – every day is, if you would, both Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. It is "Fat Ash" if you would...
Now, do we pay attention to holiness and goodness? Sure, but Jesus told us not to make a show of it. Do we celebrate freedom from rules and endless regulations? Yes, but we are not to make a show of that either. You see, for the Christian who is “getting it” – neither freedom nor holiness is calculated, nor are they separate issues. Freedom and holiness are cut from the same cloth. We are free because we are holy. We are holy because we have been made free. It is a beautiful spontaneity. “Planning” to be holy – to get your “holy on” say…next Wednesday…simply stirs the pot of rebellion in one’s own heart. It is the religious antithesis of the Fat Tuesday phrase: “Let’s go get wasted.” Both are dangerous. The first can make you feel spiritually superior – a very bad thing. The second usually fills you with some sort of regret – also a bad thing. Both are less than what Jesus has in mind for us.
The last part of the above Scriptures has Jesus saying this: “But wisdom is proved right by her deeds.” In reference to John the Baptist, his wisdom was proven by His austerity. John needed to behave the way he did in order to outduel the religious, judgmental elites of his day. In other words – no one could claim to “out-holy” John. Thus, you find even the Pharisees lining up to get baptized. With Jesus, it was just the opposite. Was He holy? - Absolutely. But where do we find Jesus? He is constantly hanging out with the wrong crowd – the I.R.S. agents, the whores, the hounds and the misfits.
His first miracle was making about 300 gallons of wine. When a significant portion of your disciples are sailors, wine depletion can be a major problem. Was that a necessary miracle? Yes, especially if you’re out to prove that the popular conception of God has become all twisted up by organized religion. A sermon I heard as a youth which declared that Jesus had actually made up big vats of grape-juice at the wedding do not take into account the astonishment and pleasure of the Jewish Maitre’d who announced that the best wine had been saved for last. Who is to question a Jewish wine expert?
The point is this – being a Christian is not so much pre-planned, as it is simply, lived. Jesus signed up to walk out and work through this life with us, side by side. He makes it up as He goes. Yes, there are some things that are wrong that will always be wrong. There are such things as absolutes and propositional truths. I get that. But there also is a wide-field of freedom where Jesus will take us where we somehow sustain the path of holiness and freedom in the midst of a dark and hurting world. When we once step into that freedom, we will find two things: 1) We will never – EVER – want to go back; and, 2) We will gain a lot of critics – just like Jesus and just like John. But that won’t really matter. We are designed, as believers, to please only One. Life is good when that becomes our standard. As Jesus said, “Wisdom is proved right (over time) by her deeds.’
So, with that freedom in mind, let me be the first to announce that our ministry, Patrick Crossing, is declaring a brand new observance for the liturgical calendar. I am going to borrow an insight from a few paragraphs ago and announce the commencement of: “Fat Ash Day.” I like it. It blends the spontaneity of freedom and the responsibility of holiness. Be sure and tell all your friends so this thing can go viral.
Be well blessed…
-CJ
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