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I remember being shocked when my best friend in fourth grade, Mary, confided in me that she couldn’t share our usual candy bar, because it was Lent. Lent? As a good Presbyterian, I’d never heard of such a thing.
In the earliest church, the forty days of Lent were preparation time for those to be baptized during the Easter Vigil. In the medieval church, Lent was strictly kept by much of society— meat and sex were forbidden! Shrove Tuesday was a time to get rid of all the fat in the house in preparation for the fast; Mardi Gras a time to do all the excesses, since leaner times were coming. More recently Lent became a time when candy (or something similar) was ‘given up.’
Lent can be a gift, because the season reminds us of a profound truth: we are mortal, “From dust you came and to dust you will return…” Realizing our mortality, Lent demands we take a good look at our lives and consider how our dayto day thoughts, words and actions square with what we say we value.
Giving up sweets seems a bit superficial in the light of these huge, life questions.
Of course, ‘giving something up’ can be a reminder, a kind of outward sign of an inner intention. In our self-indulgent society, fasting from something during Lent, might be a reminder that I want to go deeper with God.
I had a friend who gave up speeding for Lent and used her slower, longer commute for prayer. Driving back to Cambridge from an Easter Vigil at Norwich Cathedral was hair-raising (Lent now being over!)
Some people add a practice during the season of Lent: reading a thought-provoking book, beginning a contemplative prayer practice, finding new ways to care for neighbors.
Ready for a big challenge? Give up a long-held habit. I had known Sally for many years and knew how difficult her mother was: self-centered, negative, even bullying. When Sally told me at the beginning of Lent that she was going to give up criticizing her mother, I was awe-struck. This would be so difficult; I hoped Sally wouldn’t get discouraged.
When Sally found herself about to criticize her mother—aloud or within— she would instead pray for her, holding her in the light of God’s love. This Lenten practice stretched into months. By the next Lent, Sally told me she had begun to really love her mother and understand her unhappiness. Eventually her mother felt loved enough that she could receive love, first from Sally, and then from a church she joined. Last I heard, Sally’s mom was mentoring some young mothers in this church.
I challenge you, as I challenge myself: Is there some failing, some unhealthy way of being, you would like to live without? Perhaps, like Sally, being critical toward someone, or gossiping, or judging others from afar. Lent offers us a chance to take up the challenge, first for forty days, and maybe for a lifetime.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month’s contributor is Mary Ellen Ashcroft, Vicar of Spirit of the Wilderness Episcopal Church.
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