Lenten Disciplines

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

We are in the middle of the Lenten season and as I approached writing this blog, I thought about all the different ways I have approached this season and the tradition of fasting in the past. Having grown up Catholic, fasting meant abstaining from meat on a variety of designated days such as Fridays and certain feast days, such as Ash Wednesday (although for many this meant eating fish instead, our family ate pasta & lentils or peas). During Lent, we all decided what we would give up for the 40 days. The fast may have involved food, such as giving up chocolate, but sometimes focused on other time-consuming and pleasurable activities, such as watching TV. The focus was on sacrifice; giving up something you enjoyed.

If you read theological discussions of Lenten disciplines, however, it is a little more complicated. Catholic theologians see fasting as a form of penance. Among Protestants, the focus is more on discipline with the purpose of becoming more spiritually minded, more aware of God. In both cases, there is the idea of personal discipline, particularly of the body, as a way of reminder of or means to growing closer to God and developing spiritual muscles.

As I was considering this Lenten season, I realized that it is very easy to use the discipline as a means to my personal ends rather than for spiritual growth and focus on God. I struggle with weight. If I give up certain kinds of foods, will I be able to keep my mind on the spiritual discipline or will I be anticipating weight loss? The discipline here would become a discipline of my mind: can I do the bodily discipline and maintain the spiritual focus? And as I reflected on that, it occurred to me this is true of all Lenten disciplines. Whatever we do with our bodies, we must keep the spiritual focus.

I recently came across the concept of “self compassion.” This might sound like just another way to say self-centeredness or selfishness or self-focus. However,

Having compassion for oneself is really no different than having compassion for others. Think about what the experience of compassion feels like. First, to have compassion for others you must notice that they are suffering. If you ignore that homeless person on the street, you can’t feel compassion for how difficult his or her experience is. Second, compassion involves feeling moved by others' suffering so that your heart responds to their pain (the word compassion literally means to “suffer with”). When this occurs, you feel warmth, caring, and the desire to help the suffering person in some way. Having compassion also means that you offer understanding and kindness to others when they fail or make mistakes, rather than judging them harshly. Finally, when you feel compassion for another (rather than mere pity), it means that you realize that suffering, failure, and imperfection is part of the shared human experience. “There but for fortune go I.”

Self-compassion involves acting the same way towards yourself when you are having a difficult time, fail, or notice something you don’t like about yourself. Instead of just ignoring your pain with a “stiff upper lip” mentality, you stop to tell yourself “this is really difficult right now,” how can I comfort and care for myself in this moment?” Instead of mercilessly judging and criticizing yourself for various inadequacies or shortcomings, self-compassion means you are kind and understanding when confronted with personal failings

- Kristin Neff, Associate Professor of Human Development and Culture at the University of Texas at Austin http://www.self-compassion.org/what_is_self_compassion.html

I find myself making a very similar case to clients with whom I work who have very poor self-esteem or self-valuation. I reminded them that God values them enough to send Christ to die for them. Not just for other people, but for them as well. I can agree with them that they have done nothing to earn this value. It is about being not about doing. It is because God in his sovereignty chose to place his love on them. They are valuable because he values them. Therefore, I encourage them to be kind to themselves, to show some compassion to themselves.

So as I was thinking about Lent, I decided that my Lenten discipline this year would be to give up self-criticism. If I am this valuable person whom God has chosen, if I am one for whom Christ died, if I am one for whom God has shown mercy, then I may show mercy to myself. Even as I would show compassion to one of my clients, so too I can show compassion to myself. I am an imperfect, broken sinner, wounded by myself, my own sin, and by the world. I can choose to continue to wound myself with critical self thoughts, or I can choose to agree with God. Through nothing I have done, he has loved me and given me value. God’s grace forgives my inadequacies and encourages me to become the person he intended me to be. That person is one who shows compassion for others yes, but also towards myself and my failings. Because, it is God who is at work within me both to desire and to do his good pleasure (Philippians 2:13).

Should we have children?

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

I have a friend who wants to have children. She is in the midst of deep conversation over this. Her husband says he does not want children - he says it will be like a death sentence to have a child. How do they decide? What factors go into the decision to have a child?

Peter Singer, chair of the Department of Philosophy at Princeton University, recently stirred up quite a bit of emotion with his blog “Should This Be the Last Generation?” (See http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/should-this-be-the-last-generation/). He presents the arguments of another philosopher who basically says, we should stop reproducing because it is better to have never existed than to have lived this life which has so much pain and suffering.

Let me repeat that: It is better to have never existed than to have lived because there is so much pain and suffering. The fleeting happiness we do experience is not worth the living of a life.

Singer is a utilitarian philosopher. He claims not to be a classic utilitarian philosopher because it’s not just about how much happiness he accrues. Rather his utilitarianism is one that asks what action creates the greatest good for all sentient beings, with the least harm. However, at bottom, “because it makes me happy” is basically why he says ‘yes’ - his children and grandchildren make him happy. They lead relatively happy lives.

Chuck Colson, member of the board of trustees of GCTS, wrote a column in the August edition of Christianity Today, “The Lost Art of Commitment.” Colson is commenting on the radical individualism of our culture that defines meaning in terms of personal happiness. Since the 1960s and 70s, a new generation has arisen that does not make commitments. That generation includes many who have no sense of community or social obligation, who live in a world perceived as lacking meaning. Colson cites Robert Bella as calling this “‘ontological individualism,’ the belief that the individual is the only source of meaning.” But Colson notes, instead, that life’s meaning is really found in relationship - with God and with each other, and this requires commitment. He writes, in exact opposition to what Peter Singer asserts, that “by abandoning commitment, our narcissistic culture has lost the one thing it desperately seeks: happiness. Without commitment, our individual lives will be barren and sterile. Without commitment, our lives with lack meaning and purpose. After all, if nothing is worth dying for . . . then nothing is worth living for” (emphasis added).

“Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (I Cor 10:31). If God is our source of meaning, then this is the reason for our choices. To have children is an act of faith that God is still on his throne and sovereign over all creation. To have children is an act of hope that God is still watching and caring, and redeeming the world. To have children is an act of love that God has made the two one flesh and blessed that union.

This does not make our lives easier or simpler, or give us any guarantees. I don’t know what my friends will decide about children. I pray for them as they wrestle through their decision. It is painful to watch them struggle with this decision. I myself do not have children, not by choice. But since my life is about glorifying God, not my personal happiness, then I believe my childlessness is a part of his plan for me. Sometimes, this means I hold on to “God is sovereign and God is good” and look for his meaning in this. I cling to the Scripture that says all things work together for good to those who love God, who are called according to his purpose, even if I can’t understand how right now. Jesus showed us that we are worth dying for, and that makes our lives worth living. Period. So, should we have children? That decision, as all decisions for us as children of God, should flow out of this truth, rather than some individualistic computation of personal happiness. “You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.” (Rev 4:11, NLT).