As a young boy it was drummed into me that you’ll never go to heaven in a baked bean tin – for the very simple reason that a baked bean tin has baked beans in. And, to the delight of my fellow cub scouts who gleefully sang of the fact on the way to summer camp, neither will we get to our celestial home in a Playtex bra – for, it seems, this branded item of feminine attire lacks the requisite elasticity necessary to propel an individual all the way to what is surely everyone’s preferred eternal home.
Now, whilst neither of these assertions will come as any surprise to many, what may be less well known to some is that we will never get to heaven by giving up chocolate for Lent. Or anything else for that matter – irrespective of whether our determined abstinence involves social media, mobile phone usage, or the pandering to black Labradors who, when indulged, are liable to leave fur all over the settee.
But leaving all that to one side for a moment, for those who have opted to give something up during these weeks preceding Easter, how’s it going?
Are you remaining resolute despite that Yorkie bar in the top drawer of your desk, or have you caved in and found yourself now relying on the same excuses you made on January 2nd when your plan to run this year’s London Marathon ended in tatters, having failed to keep up with the couch-to-5k app’s suggested schedule?
Of course there is nothing wrong in abstaining from less than helpful habits in Lent. Such endeavours can be helpful. But we shouldn’t pretend they have any spiritual value unless they free up more time for us to ponder the things of God. For many, however, the decision to give something up is less about drawing near to God and more about feeling better about ourselves. And even then the self-sacrifice is only ever intended to be temporary as, come Easter, all our hard work is undone when we consume more confectionery in one day than we would normally eat in the six weeks we have gone without.
But even if we are successful in continuing to go without, our better behaviour will prove no more effective in getting us to heaven than vessels containing pre-cooked, nutrient-dense seeds derived from plants in the Fabaceae family. Because being good has as much to do with the state of our hearts as the actions they generate.
For while I may succeed in cutting down on the number of people I murder, Jesus tells me that I must not harbour hatred toward anyone – or indeed be inappropriately angry or even speak unkindly about them. And whilst we may resist the temptation of falling into an adulterous relationship, Jesus says that to even look at another with lustful thoughts is, in effect, to climb into bed with that person. [Matthew 5:21-28]
Though it has been many years since I attended one regularly, I was brought up in the Church of England. So something else that I learnt as a boy, far more useful than the childish songs we sang on coaches, was the prayer of General Confession that I would say each Sunday morning whilst kneeling in front of a hard wooden pew. It goes like this:
‘Almighty God, our Heavenly Father,
we have sinned against you…
in thought and word and deed,
through ignorance, through weakness,
and through our own deliberate fault.
We are truly sorry
and repent of all our sins.
For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ.’
I still use these words today as they helpfully dismantle every imagined get-out clause that I’m tempted to employ in the hope of somehow justifying my own wrongdoing. That is to say, they stop me pretending that I’m not a sinner.
Which is the only thing we really need to be giving up during Lent. That and our foolish pride that tells us that we’re not in need of forgiveness.
As has been rightly said, ‘the only thing we contribute to our salvation is the sin that made it necessary’. And so our journey begins by recognising our need of rescue, and crying out to God for help.
The help he is only too willing to give.
Because if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. [1 John 1:8-9]
And so the question becomes, not what we are giving up this Lent, but whether we’re prepared to confess who we truly are – and then throw ourselves on the mercy of the God who is ready to wash us clean.
For if we are, we’ll find that we’re warmly welcomed – into heaven, which, not to stretch a point, is never so full that room can’t be found for just one more.
Related posts:
To read ‘The Kindness We Don’t Needand the Truth We Do’, click here
To read ‘No Ifs or Buts’, click here
To read ‘Hope in the Ashes: Why Sin Remains But Does Not Reign’, click here
To read ‘Hope for the Guilty’, click here
To read ‘When our best isn’t good enough’, click here
To read ‘On Narcissism…an the Pot Calling the Kettle Black’, click here
Some musings 