Ash Wednesday begins the Christian season of Lent. It is a season of special spiritual significance
for Christians. Traditionally, three features characterise this period, namely fasting, almsgiving and prayer.
Lent tends to correspond to the biblical narrative of the forty days and forty nights during which Jesus fasted
in the desert. Many have therefore interpreted Lent as simply, a time for penance, fasting and abstinence. In (strict)
traditional Catholic circles, Ash Wednesday is a day of fasting and abstinence (often interpreted in terms of avoidance
of eating meat). Ash Wednesday therefore begins a season, which for many years, has been essentially defined in
terms of fasting, abstinence, and mortification. However, an important question, which I intend to raise in this
essay, is whether these emphases ought to exhaust the totality of Lent.
Fasting, abstinence, and mortification (among other things) draw from the philosophical tradition, which conceives
reality in terms of dualisms - spirit and matter, the world of eternal forms and the physical world. The spirit
is presented to be superior to matter, the world of eternal forms seen as superior to the physical world. This
thinking, which is represented in the philosophy of Plato, came to influence early Christian thinkers like St.
Paul, St. James, St. Augustine, the early desert fathers, etc. In the writings of these figures, one notices the
emphases on the fight between the flesh and the spirit, God and the world. In the light of this reasoning, people
were encouraged to subjugate the flesh and to punish the body as a way of purifying the spirit - since the body
(flesh) was seen as a corruption of the spirit. (Plato conceived the body as a prison for the soul). Consequently,
many cults arose in the early Christian communities, which prioritised the spirit over the flesh. Though some of
these groups (like the Gnostics and Manicheans) went to some extremes (hence were condemned as heresies) nevertheless,
monasticism, asceticism, celibacy and some other practices of the Christian religion (especially in the Catholic
Church), which have survived till date, are (in one way or the other) offshoots of this philosophy. Fasting and
abstinence as religious practices are inserted into this culture as ways of taming the concupiscence of the flesh,
chastising the body in order to elevate and purify the spirit. This spirituality runs into murky waters when it
encounters other philosophies, which do not conceive existence in terms of dualisms.
When we come to think of it, fasting and mortification presuppose that the individual deprives himself or herself
of some normal comforts. Fasting presupposes that the one who fasts is well fed. Abstinence as a follow-up implies
also that the individual forgoes some pleasure and endures some discomfort. When the season of Lent demands of
Christians to fast, it presupposes that these Christians have been eating well and enjoying themselves during the
course of the year. The need for them to fast and forgo some pleasures for the sake of their soul draws from this
assumption that they have been comfortable during the other parts of the year. Fasting may also be seen as serving
to remind those who have been feeding well about the miseries of the starving. The command to fast and to abstain
from eating meat (and eat fish) has also been noted to have medical advantages for those who eat well already.
How can a Nigerian civil servant who receives his/her salary on an irregular basis and who has not been paid his/her
salary for over 3 months embark on fasting during the Lenten season? If lent means fasting and penance, then one
can say without fear of contradiction that the entire life of this civil servant is Lent. What type of abstinence
do we expect from the average African who is impoverished, living in subhuman conditions, eating under-nourished
food, exploited by both his immediate government and the international socio-economic order? What sacrifice do
we expect from the African who has undergone several Structural Adjustment Programmes, whose local currency and
purchasing power has been so terribly devalued since the last 20 years? What type of fasting do we expect from
a man who for the past ten years only eats once a day? What other sacrifice do we expect from a person who drives
on a bad road everyday, who has never enjoyed up to a 30-minute drive on a smooth road? What other sacrifice do
we expect from a person who makes a journey of about 5 kilometres everyday on foot either to go to the farm, school,
church or office? What other sacrifice do we expect of children or even adults, who trek long and sometimes dangerous
distances to fetch water or firewood? What other mortification do we expect of the African who has been so used
to suffering that he or she no longer recognises suffering?
Therefore, I think that if the Lenten season is just a time of fasting, abstinence or sacrifice, then one can say
that the life of many African people can simply be defined as an on-going Lent and therefore need no other Lent.
If Lent is just a time of fasting then it is good for the rich and the well-fed. It is also good for the many pot-bellied
politicians and military officers who have stolen much money from our national treasuries. Fasting is good also
for the money magnets, the many 'philanthropists' and the millionaire preachers.
My questions do not mean that Lent is irrelevant. I accept that Lent is a significant spiritual season. However,
I insist that to understand it simply from the perspective of fasting and abstinence (which has been the hallmark
of traditional Christian thought) cannot exhaust the richness of this season. My experiences as a person, my studies
and the various dimensions of my work have challenged me to discover the depth and the significance of Lent from
another perspective. To come to this perspective, I simply analysed Lent as period of forty days in preparation
for the celebration of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Lent brings to our focus the death of Jesus
Christ and his victory over it. Death as we know, is a state of lifelessness, when every hope has been lost, when
nothing more could be done. Such sayings as "there is no need to flog a dead horse" underscores this
fact. When something is dead, its chapter is closed. It has come to its end. At this point, no remedy is possible.
But the Christian feast of Easter brings these assumptions of death under a serious question mark. Contrary to
the hopelessness of death, the feast of Easter radiates hope and courage that "with God all things are possible".
Easter tells us that even when we think that nothing could be done, that something could still be done. Easter
simply proclaims the infinitude of possibilities as against the hopelessness which death indicates. As a black
African who lives within present historical and socio-economic circumstances, I prefer to look at Lent as a season,
which prepares us to confront the possibility of rising from the dead (rather than a time of fasting).
The possibility of rising from the dead ought to strike a very sensitive cord in our minds, when we think about
our black African situation in the world of today. Our good friend Fela Anikulapo Kuti, used to sing about black
Africa in these words: "na de problem of dis whole world na him we de carry." Our hospitals, educational
centres and other public institutions are simply caricatures of what they ought to be. Our economies fit the description
of death. Our languages are increasingly being confined to the lumber room of past. The African must either speak
English or French or Portuguese in order to appear intelligent. Think about it that no African currency is worth
an international standard. Think about the socio-political arrangements of our countries. Think about the images
of Africa, which we see frequently in the Cable televisions. A friend once told me that he does not want me to
discuss Nigerian issues beside him again because, he has lost hope that Nigeria will ever be good in his life time.
In other words, he means that such discussions will only be mere waste of time because nothing more could be done.
Many of us at one point or the other have given up hope on
Nigeria and Africa in general. This art of giving up hope is what I underscore as a state of death. In many ways,
you may agree with me that we are at this state of death in our national and continental history. There is despair
and frustration. When the preacher tells us to chastise our flesh, little does he know that we no longer have the
flesh to chastise - what the slave trade and colonialism failed to destroy have since been devoured by the successive
administrations that have ruled us since independence. Whatever remained of these scourges have further been eaten
up by mosquitoes, hunger, preventable diseases, and poorly treated ailments, fear, anxiety, and insecurity. When
the preacher tells us to lament for our sins, still little does he know that we longer have the voice with which
to lament - the forces of international politics, the might of the multi-national companies, the guns, boots and
horsewhips of the soldiers and police, the styles of governance and the various models of intimidations from our
religious and political leaders have sealed up our mouths that we can neither cry nor be heard. How more can one
define death!
Apart from the sphere of the national and continental, we also encounter the state of death equally at various
times in our personal lives. At times we come at crossroads in life, or encounter hopeless situations. These crossroads
may be in terms of health problems, financial problems, choice of carrier, understanding the dynamics of life,
choice of and life with a life partner, etc.
Lent is a season which reminds us that Jesus could make Lazarus rise from the dead even after his funeral. Lent
is a period, when Christians prepare to celebrate the resurrection of Christ. The season of Lent should also give
us the courage to confront our many states of death. Lent ought to prepare us to say that there can never be an
end to possibilities. Lent and Easter ought to be a response to those who have given up hope concerning many issues
both in the public and private realms of life. Lent is a period which reminds us that we should and in fact, that
we must rise from the dead. It ought to challenge us to discard the garbs of complacency and embrace a pro-active
social engagement. From this interpretation, repentance as a special requirement of the Lenten season cannot only
be restricted to praying to God for forgiveness. It rather assumes the form of a commitment to be involved in bringing
about a resurrection of hope in people and the creation of better social systems (which improves human life). Repentance
becomes a renunciation of lifestyles and privileges, which contribute in enhancing the state of death in African
socio-political life and in the life of individual persons. The sins, which we are called, to repent from during
this season will not just mean offences against the Ten Commandments but also socially insensitive and destructive
acts or tendencies.
Lent could be a good stimulus for Christian involvement in social struggles. Seen from this perspective, the season
of Lent acquires a relevance, which transcends the dark rooms of mere religious piety. It takes up a social and
political relevance and helps us to insert Christian practices into the centre of human efforts to create a better
society. Consequently, rather than just being seen as forty days of praying, fasting and abstinence, African Christians
should appropriate the image of Lent, which emphasises the preparation to celebrate the resurrection. The resurrection
of Jesus Christ, which Lent prepares us to celebrate, ought also to be seen as our own resurrection. The agonies,
cries and death of Jesus should be seen as our own (socially and personally) agonies, cries and death. His rising
again imbues us with the courage that our resurrection is possible and fortifies us to actually begin to work for
this eventual resurrection. The realities of present day African social and individual living indicate that an
emphasis on Lent as a preparation to rise again has more relevance to us than being fixed on the traditional imagery
of chastising the flesh.