I have not been Roman Catholic since fourth grade. A few years ago, I started practicing Lent again. Back in third grade, I remember the boy who sat behind me in CCD class getting scolded by Sister Rose for giving up broccoli, because you were supposed to give up something that was a sacrifice. I felt a bit unmasked: I'd given up gum, which sounded sacrificial, but it really wasn't that much more sacrificial than broccoli. Not like desserts would be.
As a Catholic, I also mistakenly did not reach out and touch the robe of the Cardinal when he passed in front of me on his visit to bless our parish's new fellowship hall, an act which the good Sister Rose told me would have granted me answer to any prayer. I inwardly kicked myself for not touching the robe and simultaneously asking for a new bike. When I made my First Communion, I went the wrong way after receiving the elements and my dad had to come up and show me the way back to my seat. And the infamous story that my dear Grandma Lorraine repeatedly tells with gusto about me is that when I was 2 or 3 I ran out of that same church screaming "I hate you! I hate you!" at her. So, I kind of wasn't very good at being a Catholic.
I am absolutely not making fun of Catholics. I am poking fun at myself, who continually makes spiritual blunders and just erased 3 paragraphs that would've roasted my hide over the lake of fire in other Christian circles about stuff that was more serious indeed than childhood faux pas. There wouldn't have been enough room in the title line for all the asterisks needed, though. Several years ago I realized that I needed to dig deep and figure out why I called myself a Christian and what that really meant. That's about the time I picked back up with Lent.
Whatever way I stumble around faith in my life, I suspend all skepticism and criticism at Lent. I go back to a place in my heart where I am the girl who would look at those ashes on my forehead in the mirror and compare them to my sister Kelly's ashes to see if mine made a better, darker circle. (Left that one out). I just believe, with wonder, in the story of sin paid for. And feel compelled in turn to make a small, conscious sacrifice to constantly remind me for the next few weeks of my guilt laid on divine shoulders on a cross.
And something happens that makes me sheepish about all the other weeks when I don't acknowledge God's presence in my life; I feel God's presence in my life. Though I can't really describe what that is (peace?) or what it isn't ( Survivoresque immunity?), it is good to rest here for awhile.
I'm still too chicken to give up desserts. If I ever give up coffee, it would be safe to assume I'm pregnant or have a grave medical disorder.
4 comments:
I love this post! Can you email me those deleted paragraphs? My curiosity is killing me. :)
I thought I'd just point out how holy I am. I gave up chocolate for lent. And I've had some everyday since it started. But for me, its a reminder that if I just submit my "need" for chocolate to the Lord, I could give it up. It also reminds me that I'm making a choice not to. That's the greater lesson in this non-sacrifice.
And by the way, giving up gum is in no way like giving up broccoli.
I love how you pepper the serious with the lighthearted. A really thoughtful post. Loved, loved, loved the last line.
Hey T, one of your best posts yet. I love these thoughts. I just recently started doing Lent again, and it has been interesting and wonderful in many ways.
Do you know how powerful this would be if you added some scripture to it? I too would love to see the deleted paragraphs.
The little girl looking at the ash circle is something I struggle with too... am I good enough? Am I sacrificing enough? Do I love enough? The answer to all is a big fat NO! But praise be to God that my sins were paid in full by the one who IS good enough, who sacrificed EVERYTHING, who Loves perfectly and eternally!
I like that you do lent... I have thought about doing it myself because it is a great act of worship.
Thanks for sharing your heart!
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