(The third of seven weekly Lenten reflections.)  Don’t be alarmed.  I’m neither cheating on my wife nor my income tax, and I don’t use my own “special” set of dice for board games.  I’m not talking about that kind of cheating.  But what I’ve discovered in the last few days is that I’m cheating at Lent, and thereby cheating myself.

As I explained in an earlier post (“Why I observe Lent”), white sugar is one of the things I’ve sacrificed this Lenten season.  That doesn’t just mean staying away from sweets, but anything with refined sugar in it.  It’s almost frightening to see how many foods contain sugar when you read the labels.

Of course, manufacturers don’t always list “sugar” in the ingredients.  It used to be just “corn syrup,” then “high fructose corn syrup,” as if fructose were somehow good for you.  My personal favorite these days is “evaporated cane juice.”  I know: evaporated cane juice (that’s sugar cane, mind you, not somebody’s walking stick) is supposed to have more micronutrients than processed white sugar.  But to me, that’s sort of like saying I eat pizza for the protein.

All in all, I’ve been careful about following the no-sugar rule.  I bought a box of single-serving packets of stevia, a natural sugar substitute (I don’t like the aftertaste of the more common substitutes, like Nutrasweet).  At first, I was going to buy the stevia in liquid form–until I noticed it had sugar in it (huh???).  I conscientiously bought the powdered form instead.  So far, I haven’t used it much, probably about 3 or 4 packets total since Lent began.

So where’s the cheating?

Well, what’s the point of giving up sugar if I’m going to put something else sweet in its place?  I’m not doing this because I’m diabetic, nor as a way of losing weight.  If the whole idea is to discipline myself to do without, to let go of something that I take for granted even though I know it’s not good for me, then what kind of discipline is it to blunt the sacrifice so that I don’t notice it?

Busted by the Spirit.

I fell into the trap of turning the discipline into a matter of legalistic righteousness, straining out the gnat and swallowing the camel whole.  Let’s face it: nothing will change in heaven if I eat something with sugar in it–or for that matter, stevia.  Nor will steadfastly avoiding sugar earn me another jewel in my crown.

Even swearing off stevia at this point means nothing, if I still end up giving myself a silent and self-congratulatory pat on the back for being such a spiritual titan.  Pharisee!  I live such a privileged life; can I not do without this one simple craving, and for the right reasons?

No more cheating.