If Thou Wouldst A Christian Be

What is it about the approach of Lent that fills us with such dread?  Are our fears based on superficial reasons, such as the enforced curtailing of our food consumption?  Is the removal of the cookie jar from the kitchen table enough to send us into paroxysms of trepidation and withdrawal?  Hopefully, we’ve learned to rise above such banal attachments to our lower appetites…

More likely, what makes us anxious is the anticipation of the inward-looking exploration of our own souls.  As we have been preparing for Lent, we’ve probably come to recognize the need for this inner search, with its honest evaluation of the state of our spiritual life, followed by our acknowledgment of the need to improve it.  Such thoughts as these occupy the minds of all honest men and are one of the most significant reasons why so few are susceptible to our arguments for their conversion.  The lifestyle that they have chosen for themselves is far more in tune with their own desires and inclinations, opinions and beliefs.  The thought of having to give up these false attachments is not something they ever want to deal with, and so they deliberately choose not to.  It’s not that they disagree with the rational and persuasive line of logic we provide to them—it’s just that to agree with us would force them to give up the kind of life they want to live.  It’s very short-sighted behavior on their part to prefer the brief pleasures of this fleeting world over the eternal happiness of heaven, but it’s part of man’s psychology to prefer the solid and material here-and-now, over the promise of something far better–A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. It’s not that they don’t trust you or believe you, it’s just that they would prefer not to think about it right now, thank you.

While we shake our heads at their poor judgment, are we not guilty of the same thing?  Don’t we avoid making our nightly examination of conscience for the same reason?  Do we put off going to confession, frightened of the promise we have to make there “to amend our life”?  Do we gloss over the first Joyful Mystery, unwilling to make the same commitment to God’s will that the Blessed Virgin declared in her Fiat—”Be it done unto me according to thy word”?  How about the first Sorrowful Mystery, where our blessed Lord in his Agony in the Garden accedes to the will of his Father in heaven, even though his human nature is repulsed by the suffering he is about to endure?  Are we ready to forsake at least a few daily comforts so that we might follow our Saviour?

Let’s be certain of one thing: if we want to call ourselves Christians, that is, “followers of Christ”, then follow him we must to be worthy of the name.  Just as he carried his Cross, so must we pick up our own and follow him, along the path of suffering, and all the way to Calvary if so called.  Giving up sugar in our coffee and other tiny inconveniences are hardly “sufferings” compared with what our Lord did for us.  But they do prepare our shoulders for the truly heavy crosses that God, sooner of later, permits us to carry.  These crosses will come at some point in our lives, and our ability to accept them will be made far easier by the voluntary surrender of the little pleasures we make every Lent.  “Take up thy cross,” the Saviour said, “If thou wouldst My disciple be; deny thyself, the world forsake, and humbly follow after Me.”