Lent is fundamentally about God dealing with the evil done by and to man in the Cross of Jesus Christ. It also a good season for considering our human response to this miracle of divine love, mercy and justice.
One of the ways of doing this is to contemplate the human capacity and propensity for wrong-doing, or sin. Fewer works in recent times have shed more light on the psychology of sin and temptation than CS Lewis’ Screwtape Letters.
In one illuminating letter (number 15), senior devil Screwtape instructs his nephew, Wormwood, on the temporal nature of sin. In short, all sin is future-oriented. The present is what God would have us focus on; if we are to think of the future, it is to the ends of contemplating our future union with, or separation from God (Letter 6 foreshadows this point). The devil and his minions would have us “hagridden by the future”, overcome with fear or hope, neglecting the present cross, present pleasure or present duty.
Images: by author, from ‘The Screwtape Letters’ in The CS Lewis Signature Classics (New York: Harper One, 2017), 227-229.
It was a strange and unsettling feeling to wake up this morning and remember that churches across the nation are shut (in fact, a good number of churches are open for prayer–it is the services that aren’t happening). I honestly can sympathise with the sentiments of some who want these services to continue. Even for someone like me, who for now thinks that the sacrament is highly significant but not the sum total of Christian life and worship, I have to admit that I sorely missed taking communion with my brothers and sisters in person. And I can understand those who say that by cancelling services, the church look “no different” to the world around it.
On the other hand, if all major gatherings have been banned and we imagine a scenario where it was only church-goers that were meeting, we would be forgiven for thinking that this was irresponsible in the extreme. To flout governmental ruling in this way would appear damaging to the public witness of the church. Then there’s the fact that in keeping our distance physically, we are saving lives. As James KA Smith puts it, “How strange: this time in which we love our neighbours by keeping our distance”.
Lent marks the forty days that lead of up to Easter in which Christians remember the brokenness and mortality of the human condition and the miracle of Christ who knows our weakness and lovingly offered himself for all.
The term Christians use to describe the human brokenness we reflect on with intensity at Lent is “sin”. Now, I realise that sin isn’t a terribly fashionable word. It can seem morbid, introspective and negative. But if sin simply refers to what Francis Spufford calls “our human propensity to f*ck things up“, then what could be more realistic than recognising and owning up to one’s shortcomings?
After all, the season of Lent is the season of the realist.
For it recognises our brokenness but it does not leave us without hope. If confession is where we begin on the Christian journey, it is not where we end up. Like woebegone Isaiah, we are not completely left to the devices and desires of our own hearts. If we commit ourselves to God, we can receive the cleansing we need and that only he can provide.
The confronting realism of Lent can be seen and heard in the following pieces, taken from literature, art, music and film.