Intentional Fallacies (An open letter about Pancake Tuesday)

Blogging is a strange hobby. I've never really understood it, and am not sure how I wound up doing it. I have always been baffled by people's willingness to share their inmost thoughts to complete strangers, and wonder why, given this, I am willing to do so myself. The only reason that occurs to me is that I never imagine anyone actually reading what I write. I'm completely free of any concerns about how my readers feel about my writing, because I don't believe that I have any readers. (This is not, strictly speaking, true, and I do apologise to both my readers - I do believe you exist, I just forget about you from time to time.)

So this week has been an interesting one for me, because a post that I expected to attract as little attention as most posts I write (perhaps even less - I mean, it was about Lent, for crying out loud), actually attracted a few comments (including one which was mysteriously deleted by its author before I got to read it - how fascinating). And all this has, I suppose, reminded me that what I'm writing here is being read, and processed and, in some cases, responded to.

Which is interesting, given the content of what I write about. Let me explain. I'm usually pretty reticent in talking about my faith to people, mostly because the majority of people seem to interpret talking about faith (just talking) to be the same as evangelism - which, of course, it isn't. If I happened to mention in conversation with a friend that I went to see The Police on Australia Day and loved it, they would be a little uptight if they assumed that I was trying to persuade them to like The Police too. So why is it different if I start talking about going to church on the weekend and how much I enjoyed that? No difference, surely, and yet many will perceive a difference. I know I expect people to see it differently - hence why I spoke to colleagues about The Police concert, but am hesitant in listing church as one of my weekend activities.

But blogging, it seems, is different for me. Because I don't imagine terribly many people read what I write here, I have always felt quite free to talk very openly about my faith. And yet, interestingly, I don't think I've ever written a single post with the intention of evangelising to my readers. So again, there seems to be a difference in talking openly about your faith, and trying to convince others of its truth.

Which brings us to Pancake Tuesday, an event that was held at my school outside the canteen at recess - as a fundraiser for a mid-year Drama trip to New York. To the best of my knowledge, nothing was said about what Pancake Tuesday represented. The occasion was not designed to evangelise to people. I doubt many of those involved had any Christian zeal at all influencing their actions. And yet some considered this to be offensive, or "opportunistic". Certainly, my school has a large Muslim population. It would probably have an equally large Catholic and Christian Orthodox population. And then, like most schools in Australia, the highest population would probably be atheist, agnostic, or indifferent. Was it insensitive, given the nature of the school demographic, given the fact that the school is a public one, to acknowledge Pancake Tuesday in this way? I don't personally think so, and yet others disagree, and I can see their perspective - to a point. Where I diverge is mostly on this question of whether simply eating pancakes on an obscure but still religiously significant day of the year is somehow an act of opportunism or religious zealotry. Had the gospel been shared with all students who consumed pancakes, then yes, I could see their point. That wouldn't have been appropriate in a public school. But simply serving, and eating, pancakes? I'm not sure I see the problem.

And I can't help wondering why it seems to be Christians who are, in our culture, most commonly forced into silence. The University of Melbourne, for example, refuses to teach Christian theology because, when it was established, it was supposed to be "secular". There's nothing wrong with this. We do indeed need secular institutions. And yet other faiths are taught openly and tolerantly within Melbourne Uni classrooms - so, in that case, "secular" seems to have become "non-Christian". Why?

In its less liberal forms, Christianity makes some claims to objective truth that I can imagine would be offensive to people of other faiths. But it isn't alone in doing so. Islam is no different, nor is Judaism. I am weary of ever presenting my faith in a way that compels others to believe it too - and yet a core belief of Christianity is its truth, and the need to believe in it, which means that there may well be a time and place for evangelism - and yet I know that many would disagree with me on that. Certainly, if Christians are to share their faith in a more intentional way, it has to be accompanied by sensitivity, tolerance and tact - and respect. But sometimes, when you believe something is deeply, significantly true, you need to talk about it like that; and yet I know that few in Western culture would see evangelism as ever being appropriate.

Certainly, Tuesday recess at a public school is not a time for evangelism. Government schools, because they are for everyone, are by necessity secular. But talking about your faith, and having others show it respect, is not the same as evangelism. "Pancake Tuesday" was by no means an official school celebration, simply a quiet and informal fundraiser. I'm not even sure that the pancake servers said a single word about Christian faith that recess. But, if they had, we would need to be sure that their intention was to convince or convert before we labeled it "evangelism". They could, for instance, have simply said that Pancake Tuesday is the first day of Lent, the lead-up to Easter. All students enjoy the Easter holidays, so why is it somehow more "heinous" to mention another day related to Easter? It hardly seems different to a Muslim student mentioning to teachers or classmates that they were fasting for religious reasons - quite a common occurrence at my school.

Mentioning is not the same as pushing an agenda, and, if we want Australia to be a truly tolerant society, we surely have to see the difference. Tolerance that in effect silences all dialogue between and about religions is not tolerance at all.

No God, Only Religion (The First Sunday of Lent...)

And so this is Easter.

Well, Lent - the first Sunday thereof, as you'll know if you're Anglican, or Catholic. If you're neither, I'm not sure if you're missing out or not. You certainly won't experience the purple robes, and you won't be told that you should be giving something up for the next forty days - although, in reality, you should have already started, since Lent began last Wednesday, after Pancake/Shrove Tuesday (celebrated at my, notably secular, school).

Normally, I like to prepare myself for Easter, although little really can prepare you for it. For me, Easter has always been about grace, something that there's little we can do to prepare for, or make ourselves worthy of. So how do you prepare? Most Protestant denominations make little deal out of the lead-up to Easter. I remember churches sometimes celebrating Palm Sunday when I was a child. I also remember celebrating Passover with family and friends twice when I was about ten and eleven. The rest of the time, the lead-up to Easter has traditionally involved counting down the days until holidays begin. I'm sure it should mean more. I always WANT it to mean more, but the thought of what Easter really means, and how little I deserve it all, tends to be one of the more difficult parts of my faith to address. I believe in it, my life depends on it, and yet...it's so much easier to thank God for parking spaces, good days at school and nice times spent with friends than it is to thank Him for dying for our sins.

So I suppose I can see the merit in Lent. It makes us prepare. It makes us stop and think about God's sacrifice, even if only in the amazing inadequacy of our own sacrifices. Going forty days without chocolate isn't going to earn us salvation. But Jesus giving everything up for us just might. Perhaps, in humbling ourselves in this small way, we can come to understand that little bit more what sacrifice means. And we'll certainly be reminded of how weak we are. If we can only just make it through a Lent without chocolate, or coffee, or buying CDs, then it can remind us, I suppose, of how dependent we are upon God's grace.

But Lent, in and of itself, can be particularly meaningless. The sacrifice becomes an end in itself. We feel that, in giving something up, we are ourselves triumphing over our own bodies, our own fleshly weakness - which was exactly the attitude that Easter should serve to overcome. If forty days of deprivation can earn salvation, why exactly did Jesus need to die? Is His death and resurrection only effective when accompanied by our piety, albeit only forty days of piety?

I'm surrounded, at work, by religious people - people who come from Catholic and Orthodox traditions. I have complete respect for these traditions - something that occasionally separates me from my fellow evangelicals - and believe that they are an expression of a desire for God that evangelicals should be working with, not against. But I do know that, in both traditions, ritual so often takes the place of relationship. Any faith tradition that becomes more about religion than about God obscures the real issue. I know people who will observe Lent, but possibly won't talk to God at all during the working week - and I know that this isn't okay.

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to give anything up for Lent. The few things I'm considering are mostly things I've gone without for the last week or so anyway, so officially starting a few days later won't hurt. I've never observed Lent before, and am not sure why I feel any differently about it this year. Perhaps it's all the "religious" people around me who are challenging me to think about it. Certainly the talk at my church this morning (somewhere in between low and high church on the Anglican spectrum) has challenged me. But mostly, I think I just want to prepare properly for Easter this year. I want to be focused on what Easter really means. Religious tradition, where it helps you focus on the truth, can only be a good thing. Religion that distracts from the truth has become completely self-serving and is of no use to a relational God.

So, no decisions today. Just a reflection, and a prayer, that this Lent, I might prepare properly. Let's see how it goes.