Get Herald RSSAs we return to campus after a restful spring break, we also enter the holiest of Christian weeks. Yet, in observing the trite displays of faith that frequently accompany this week and the entire period of Lent that precedes it, I truly do wonder if fellow Christians care at all about Christianity - save for its most superficial aspects.
The sham of Lent and Easter, as they exist in the modern age, is quite dispiriting.
One of the most common questions that I hear in the days surrounding Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, is: "What are you giving up for Lent?" I try to be respectful when someone asks me this intensely personal question, but in recent years I have begun to cast aside my characteristic reticence when the issue of "giving up something" arises.
In all honesty and with all due respect, I find our modern approach to Lent, Easter and virtually every other Christian holiday to be a profound misinterpretation, or more probably, a profound ignorance of Scripture.
I do not contest the idea that Christians are called to sacrifice during Lent. However, I find the notion that God commands us, during a single period of the year, to offer empirical sacrifices to Him quite repulsive. It betrays an immature - borderline childish - understanding of faith if one regards as eminently indispensable sacrifices such as "giving up soda," "watching less television," or not eating meat on Fridays, all of which comprise only a portion of the towering list of feigned religiosities.
A biblical scholar I am not, though I find absolutely no justification, in Scripture or through Reason, for the legalistic maintenance of many modern Christian traditions. I can tolerate the existence of Lent and Easter, as they aim to commemorate events that merit a Christian's highest respect, but only so long as the events that these holidays celebrate are properly understood and the holidays celebrating them are regarded as facilitators of this proper understanding.
No enlightened Christian can participate in the superficialities of these man-made holidays unless one understands that their religious importance amounts to little. Their propensity to cheapen the sacrifices of Christ should make us approach them with the utmost caution.
Let us examine the tradition of Easter egg hunts, bunnies and baskets. From where do they derive their justification? Certainly not from the Bible. And, I doubt that Catholics would have the gall to suggest that their sacred tradition supports these practices.
So then, what is their origin? I ask that question without completely knowing the answer myself. Many scholars speculate that some early Christian leaders created Lent and Easter as a way to "Christianize" formerly pagan holidays. Referring specifically to the practice of a 40-day period of sacrifice, followed by the joyous celebration of a life-death-rebirth deity, they are oddly similar to the ancient Babylonian festival that venerated the resurrected Tammuz. It should be noted that theories abound concerning what exactly led to the creation of Lent and Easter. But in virtually every account, Easter evolved from the pagan practice of worshipping the "resurrection" of fertility and "longer" days.
The cliched traditions that accompany these two Christian events, from eggs to baskets, are merely paganism with a Christian face, seeing as they too have evolved out of non-Christian celebrations of the vernal equinox. At best, they distract us from the true meaning of Christ's sacrifices in the desert, his death on the Cross and his Resurrection. At worst, they instill a modern form of paganism into an increasingly selfish and consumerist society that appears neither to care for the sacrifices of Christ nor to reflect earnestly and exhaustively on what salvation entails.
Briefly returning to the practice of making specific sacrifices during Lent, at the end of the day, no one is seriously harmed because of this innocent tradition. However, making such sacrifices marks only the beginning of one's duty to the Lord. It is a childish endeavor to undertake, meant for those who have the basest understanding of Christian duty. In time, a Christian should mature.
Thus, making trite, material sacrifices is not wholly unjustifiable. It possesses the ability to make Christians more mindful of the myriad sacrifices - large and small, public and private - that are inherent to calling oneself a Christian. But he who thinks his duties have been fulfilled come Easter, ending his on-display "sacrifice" once the period of Lent is over, will only possess an infantile faith.
In closing, I would like to dwell on one sacrifice that is especially vital, and difficult, for a Christian to make - the sacrifice of becoming and constantly remaining counter-cultural. A Christian must never become a mere sheep in a herd of believers, except when Christ is the shepherd. Yet, such an occurrence will only happen when the Kingdom of Heaven is realized, in the afterlife.
Until that point, each individual person is under the constant, rather than periodic, burden of extracting personal meaning from Christianity. No external factor - including, but not limited to, attending a sunrise service (which has strong pagan origins), making a meager sacrifice, or deceiving children with tales of a fictitious bunny - can cement a lasting faith in the Lord.
Only rigorous introspection, coupled with a persistently humble approach to existence, can make the beautiful truth of Christianity come alive. The occasional sacrifice, public displays of faith and feel-good symbols often become the focal points, thereby distracting us from this important work.
In his 1855 "Attack Upon Christendom," the Christian existentialist philosopher Soren Kierkegaard passionately wrote, "The human race in the course of time has taken the liberty of softening and softening Christianity until at last we have contrived to make it exactly the opposite of what it is in the New Testament."
When I encounter the Easter Bunny, colored eggs, hot cross buns and virtually every other artificial sign of faith, I see the story of our salvation unnecessarily altered to suit the whims of a materialistic, faithless people. I see near-heresy conveniently disguised as indispensable Christian tradition. Look harder, and you will also see it.
Sean Quigley '10 is the guy who tells little kids that Santa Claus doesn't exist.
