BBC Radio 4 2016-02-29

BBC Radio 4 2016-02-29

Good morning. We’re about a third of the way of the way through Lent and if you’re anything like me, you’ll already have let yourself down. I intended to give up alcohol and meat. The alcohol pledge was broken within 48 hours, when someone offered me a gin and tonic and I absent mindedly said “Make it a double.” As for the meat, well everyone knows the best cure for a hangover is a bacon sandwich.

Whether you keep Lent or not, we’re all familiar with the feeling of trying very hard to accomplish something – not quite making it and being tempted to call it quits and give up. But I’m trying to resist that temptation.

For me, as a Catholic, Lent isn’t about achieving perfection. It’s about trying to emulate Christ’s period of wandering in the desert – when we're told that the Devil tempted him with the promises of food, glory and power. Jesus implacably resisted because, I believe, he was the Son of God. I, on the other hand, am just a human being. Success is ideal but failure is not unexpected. What matters is that I try to be the best I can.

Shortly after I converted to Catholicism I went to a priest for confession and said that I feared it wasn’t working out. “I still sin,” I moaned, “I let myself and others down.” The priest said to me: “But by the very fact that you’ve come here to confess your sins, you’ve shown that you have changed.” He was right. That I was prepared to go out on a cold evening and admit everything to a total stranger showed that I at least now worried about my faults and cared about putting them right. I had entered into a dialogue with my own conscience.

Sometimes in life we can focus exclusively on ends and underestimate the value of means. It would be wonderful to be a good person – or a healthier person or a happier person. But even if we fail to attain our goal, the process of trying to get there can in itself be redemptive.

Consider the man who climbs a mountain, gets halfway and is forced to stop by fatigue. Sure, he didn’t made it to the top, and that’s disappointing. But he saw the magnificent peak closer than any of us could claim to, and he will have had a clearer view of the world below him than the rest of us can ever imagine. He has attained wisdom.

And, of course, when he regains his energy he can resume his climb.