Of ascesis and penance

Jesus was led by the Spirit out into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, after which he was very hungry, and the tempter came and said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to turn into loaves.' But he replied, 'Scripture says: Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'

Matthew 4:ff

The beginning of Lent will probably be met with utter indifference by many today. Yet this season in the church’s life is deeply rich in history, tradition and meaning. It is a most beautiful and moving opportunity to walk with one another as we share part of the mystery of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem.

The 4th Precept of the Church advises (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2043: "You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church") ensures the times of ascesis and penance which prepare us for the liturgical feasts and help us acquire mastery over our instincts and freedom of heart.

Now that’s the teaching and it translates into something like this:

Ash Wednesday, 26 February and Good Friday, 10 April 2020, are days of fasting and abstinence. Fridays of Lent are also days of abstinence.

Fasting is to be observed by all 18 years of age and older, who have not yet celebrated their 59th birthday. On a fast day one full meal is allowed. Two other meals, sufficient to maintain strength, may be taken according to each one’s needs, but together they should not equal another full meal. Eating between meals is not permitted, but liquids, including milk and juices, are allowed.

Abstinence is observed by all 14 years of age and older. On days of abstinence, no meat is allowed. Note that when health or ability to work would be seriously affected, Church law does not oblige. When in doubt concerning fast and abstinence, the Parish Priest should be consulted.

Fasting, almsgiving, and prayer are the three traditional disciplines of Lent. The faithful and Catechumens should undertake these practices seriously in a spirit of penance and of preparation for Initiation into the Church or the renewal of Baptism Promises at Easter.

But let’s be aware of the invitational nature of this teaching. We are called into relationship with God, and while we know and can acknowledge all that God offers us, in this season, we are called to give in return – of ourselves, of who we are, of what we possess, of what we desire. And unlike the rich man in the Temple we are bidden to do all this in quiet, unknown to others except to God.

Matthew (4:1 – 11) tells us the story of Jesus’ 40 days and nights of fasting in the wilderness and the temptations put before him – food, divine and earthly power. The temptations were aimed at his perceived weaknesses, but it is the very fact that Jesus has fasted and prayed that gives him the strength to reject the power of evil. Our own society, cities and towns provide temptations too many to count – all aimed at our perceived and known weaknesses. The great stories of the Church remind us that prayer and fasting will energise us and guide us away from those forces that would sorely test us.

Enter these coming weeks to learn, to grow and to strip away the unnecessary from your life, and walk humbly with your God.

Peter Douglas

AT CROSS PURPOSES

by Jon M Sweeney

Lent begins next week with a Gospel reading that is often misunderstood by Christians. A leading Catholic writer, who is married to a rabbi, considers how we might faithfully observe Ash Wednesday without scapegoating the Jewish people

“REPENT and believe in the Gospel,” the priest says as he uses his thumb to daub a cross of ashes on our foreheads. More than any other day of the year, on Ash Wednesday we focus our minds on repentance for what is past and begin again to try to live the Gospel. What might that look like?

At Mass we hear a familiar passage from the Gospel of Matthew. “Jesus said to his disciples,” it begins. Then: “Beware of practising your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in Heaven. Whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others.”

So, whatever living the Gospel might mean, it is something very different from what all those hypocrites in the synagogues are doing, right? How many of us leave church, a dusting of ash still on our foreheads, feeling a little smug, proud not to be like those hypocrites in the synagogues?

I’m a Catholic; my wife, Michal Woll, grew up a Reform Jew in Chicago’s suburbs and is now a rabbi in the progressive Reconstructionist tradition. I worry about those who leave church on Ash Wednesday, and go back to work, or do the shopping, misunderstanding the meaning of Jesus’ words, imagining that as long as they are not like those hypocritical people – perhaps the ones “in the synagogues” – they will be favoured by God.

THEY MIGHT EVEN pass by a synagogue as they walk home from church. One year, when my wife and I were living in Brooklyn, I remember passing three synagogues on my walk back to our apartment after attending Mass on Ash Wednesday. I wondered, as I walked, how many Christians might be thinking to themselves, as they passed one of those synagogues, “Those Jews, they are so unlike Jesus, and so different from how Jesus asked me to be.”

Jesus was a Jew. Jesus was a rabbi. In fact, Jesus still is a Jew. And when he said those words that we read in Matthew 6 he was, of course, talking to his fellow Jews. To get the real flavour of his repeated admonishment, “as the hypocrites do in the synagogues”, you need to translate it, “as the hypocrites do in the churches”. If we want to imagine ourselves, today, standing in front of Jesus, as he looks us in the eye and speaks directly to us, then the “hypocrites” he speaks of … could be us. We often read and hear nowadays about the Jewishness of Jesus. A wealth of new information and resources is changing how Christians and Jews relate to each other, and how Christians understand the origins of their faith. To follow Jesus more closely during Lent, think of him as teaching us to be good twenty-first-century Christians rather than bad first-century Jews. The author of Matthew was Jewish, and he was arguing with other Jewish understandings of Jesus. To understand the jarring phrase “in the synagogues” we have to grasp the infighting between different Jewish groups that was going on when Matthew’s Gospel was written. And we should try to read Scripture as it applies to our own life, not the lives of others. This is fundamental to reading the Gospel correctly – on Ash Wednesday, and every other day. Scripture should never be read as a way of condemning someone else.

The bishops of England and Wales have dedicated 2020 as a year of focus on the Bible and “The God Who Speaks”, and there is a range of events, activities and resources we can participate in this Lent. Some priests and biblical scholars and writers are helping us apply the meaning of the Ash Wednesday readings to our lives through interpretation and discussion and homilies. I know some parishes in the United States where the priest has quietly substituted the word “churches” for “synagogues” in the reading for the day to avoid misunderstandings. What should we do about the ashes on our foreheads when we leave church? “I proudly wear them to the office,” one friend tells me. “To wipe them off would be like denying Christ,” says another. We might have heard the priest saying as he applied the ashes: “Remember, you are dust and to dust you will return.” That’s the point – we are being reminded, tangibly as well as intellectually – of this truth. So parading proudly down the high street, or up and down the office, with ashes on our foreheads, to the bafflement of shoppers and colleagues, might seem a good and necessary thing. I understand the feeling. I used to feel that way too. But then I changed my mind.

WHAT DID JESUS say about the hypocrites? “Beware of practising your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in Heaven.” A cross daubed on our forehead should not be seen as a sort of military medal. Look at me, a bold warrior of righteousness in a fallen world. Prayer and holiness are not achievements that earn Scout badges.

And since I married into a Jewish family, I have become keenly aware of how the symbol of the cross – which has such memories and resonances for me and for my Christian family and friends – has different memories and resonances for my Jewish family and friends. It is a symbol that has been tragically and wickedly misused, and that symbolises the centuries-long persecution of Jewish people that culminated in the horror of the Holocaust. For me, at least, wearing a cross on my forehead on the streets or in the office on this, or any other, day, just feels wrong.

The fervency of my prayer on Ash Wednesday is not dampened for a moment by not wearing a badge of piety: “Father, our source of life, you know our weakness. May we reach out with joy to grasp your hand and to walk more readily in your ways. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Jon M. Sweeney is the co-author, with Michal Woll, of Mixed-Up Love: Relationships, Family, and Religious Identity in the 21st Century, and the editor of Jesus Wasn’t Killed By the Jews: Reflections for Christians in Lent (Orbis, £14.50; Tablet price, £13.05). For more details about The God Who Speaks, go to www.cbcew.org.uk/home/events/the-godwho-speaks/

The Tablet, 22 February 2020, pp 12 - 13.