By Father Edmund Herzog, Guest Writer
Just this past fall, I read a book by Michael Easter called “The Comfort Crisis.” I found the book to be rather engaging and thought provoking.
The thesis of the book is that a lot of our problems in the modern, affluent Western world stem from our obsession with comfort. In the book, Easter argues that allowing ourselves periods of discomfort, whether that be physical hardship, solitude or intentional struggle, can lead to greater fulfillment and well-being, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
This book really resonated with me and my experience, given that some of my most miserable days are my “most comfortable” in the material sense. Yet on the flip side of that, some of my most fulfilling days are the ones in which I embrace the discomfort that comes from living a life of self sacrifice.
That is what comes to mind when I think of what the liturgical season of Lent is all about. The 40 days of Lent are based on Jesus’ 40 days in the desert, when the Holy Spirit led him out “to be tempted by the devil.” The desert is a place of testing in the Bible: We recall in the Book of Exodus where the Israelites found themselves in the desert for 40 years as they made a pilgrimage from Egypt, a place of slavery, to the Promised Land, a place of salvation.
What always strikes me when I read the Exodus story is that the Israelites time and time again want to turn around and go back to Egypt, to slavery, as they find themselves tested in the desert. Why would anyone want to go back to a place of slavery?
Well, because it was comfortable. Sure, it was slavery, but they knew what to expect. I’ve realized that I do the same thing with my sin. I know it makes me miserable, but it gives me a temporary sense of comfort, so like the Israelites. I “turn back to Egypt.”
Lent is a time where we voluntarily go out like Christ into the desert to confront the devil, wherever he lurks in our lives. The Book of Genesis tells us that the devil is the “most cunning of all the animals,” that is he lurks, waiting to catch us off guard in a moment of weakness. During Lent, we don’t wait for the devil to come to us. Rather, we go directly at him. We take the battle to him. As the old sports adage goes, “The best defense is a good offense.”
But here’s the thing: Confronting the devil in the desert is anything but comfortable. What did Christ do during his period of 40 days? He fasted — that is he abstained from the pleasure of eating. He allowed himself to be tested and tempted in being offered all the honor and power that the world can offer. Yet he persisted in his discomfort, not looking back to the metaphorical slavery of Egypt that the Israelites continually plead to return to, but keeping his eye on the prize, he fixed his attention on doing the will of his Heavenly Father.
That is what Lent is all about: voluntarily inviting some discomfort into our lives so that we can live a life of great freedom when we celebrate the resurrection at Easter. As we know, the hinge of the Christian faith is that Jesus Christ rose from the dead. However, he first had to die.
No cross, no resurrection. No discomfort, no abundant life here this side of eternity.
These next six weeks, let’s embrace a bit of discomfort, go out into the desert with Christ, and take the battle to the devil.
PHOTO: Dannicka McGrath, Photo Editor
