The Sweetness of Sacrifice

Although most commonly associated with Catholicism, the dietary restraint practiced during Lent certainly crosses all denominational lines. The practice of sacrificing something of importance from one’s diet – be it meat or something more indulgent – is meant to center one’s mind on the sacrifice of Christ. Ordinarily, this also accompanies a deliberate, disciplined study of Scripture and/or adherence to prayerful meditation on Jesus.

My husband always “gives up” his three largest culinary indulgences – soda, chips, and dessert. Unlike traditional Lenten guidelines, he abstains from these for all forty days. Although I suspect he is motivated as much by the healthy benefits of the practice as the spiritual ones, it’s nonetheless an impressive feat of will-power and discipline, made more impressive by the fact that he never utters a single word of complaint. Yet in essence, what he’s doing with his physical diet is what we should all consider doing with our spiritual diets – purging what is unnecessary, unhealthy, and even harmful to make way for the nutritive love of our Lord.

Fasting and other forms of sacrifice in honor of God are noble practices that, when executed safely and from a genuine heart, produce a greater understanding of and closeness with God. My mother in-law stumbled on perhaps even a nobler observance of Lent years ago, when she suggested that we focus more on giving to others than on taking from ourselves. Her idea was rendered jokingly, from a humble acknowledgement that despite her love for God, she simply lacked the will-power to sacrifice her favorite foods. But her idea warrants some serious consideration, doesn’t it? After all, serving others from a faithful heart is what faith in Christ is all about.

Whether or not we engage in any specific, formal spiritual practice during Lent, we are called to prepare our hearts for the ultimate sacrifice of our Lord, and for His ultimate victory on our behalf. Dedicating ourselves to prayer, studying the Word, serving others, or sacrificing something of luxury or importance – all of these are good ways to center ourselves on God alone. Despite centuries-old traditions of the church around the globe, the end result of the process matters more to God than the means by which we arrive there.

On Easter Sunday – only after giving thanks and eating the meal his family has lovingly prepared, my husband finally enjoys a piece of carrot cake and perhaps a Mountain Dew. But the sweetness of such treats pales in comparison to the satisfaction of the life found in our risen Lord. Even if we never indulged in a savory dessert the rest of our lives, we can be filled with Jesus. The sweetness of His sacrifice is immeasurable.