Because there has to be nothing before there can be anything. Because new life, every unanticipated form of creation and persistent possibility, erupts from the wasteland, out of the depths, the silence of the earth, and the dry bones of our desire for newness.
– excerpt from Gaudete Theology
We didn’t do Lent.
There were vague mentions of the concept but it was more something that those errant Catholics did. As far as I remember, Lent didn’t have much traction in our Mennonite home.
But then, when I think about it, what more could a Mennonite possibly give up?
We already didn’t play cards, dance or wear anything more revealing than a long dress and sensible shoes. We didn’t drink, fornicate without a wedding ring and drab was definitely the new black.
No wait. Black was the new drab.
Our churches held no clutter of icons and saints. Austere and plain was the ticket. Everyone knew that quiet suffering was the way to glory.
This might be why I’ve had this decades-long obsession with all things saintly and iconic. I love the gaudy bleeding heart of the Catholics’ Jesus, the glittering rays spiking the head of the Virgin Mary or the perma-halos circling every saint like cartoon minature UFOs. I grow giddy in Mexico with their no-holds barred love of all things flamboyant and saintly. Throw on some gilded frames and a couple of rosary beads and I’m a happy camper (though I still shudder if someone starts clapping in church).
I suppose, given my preoccupation with all this shiny church-bling, it was only a matter of time before I’d look into this whole Lent thing too. The idea was actually planted by a recent piece in Geez Magazine. While reading the article, it occurred to me that this might be a good way to look at some of my habits in a fresh way. Besides, forty days is only a little over a month, not a huge investment of time, but certainly enough to shed what has become routine and to see what I might learn about myself as a result.
And so, in spite of living with a man who believes wine is interchangeable with water, I hereby make public my intention to refrain from imbibing anything alcoholic from March 5th until April 17th.
Wish me luck!
What about you? Anything you plan to give up? Or is there something you want to add to your life? Will you do anything different for Lent?
Hi Colleen,
By criticizing, I meant being judgmental and over critical. For example, I think my optician is a good one but I just don’t like her attitude, and that drives me to criticize her. I can see the good in people (and certainly this is what I see first) but sometimes, they have an irritating habit or a way of thinking that I do not like and this leads me to criticisms.
Ah…got it.
I am too familiar with what you’re talking about Catherine. It’s also not one of my favourite traits in myself 🙂
Solidarity! Let’s practise kindness, to ourselves and others.
Like Mandy, I was brought up a Catholic and remember Lent and Ash Wednesday but now I don’t practice my faith so much, only going to mass for major Catholic feasts (Christmas, Easter, Assumption). This year however I decided instead of giving up drinks or food I would refrain from criticizing people (which is much harder).
I like Mandy’s positive attitude to do something extra for other people.
Hi Catherine…I like your new plan. I’ve been thinking more about Mandy’s comment too and decided what I need to do is reframe my ‘Lenten Intention’ (say that out loud three times!).
So, instead of ‘giving up’ alcohol, I can see it as an opportunity for gaining clarity and health by giving my body a respite from a habit. (Don’t get me wrong. I certainly don’t think drinking wine is a bad thing but I am curious as to how much of it is just default drinking for me and how much is truly pleasurable. More than anything, I want to do what I do in a fully-conscious and engaged way. If I’m going to have a glass of wine (or two 🙂 I want to be present instead of participating in nothing more than a routine habit. I think this 40-day break will bring that awareness.
Perhaps your Lenten Intention could be spun too? Instead of ‘giving up’ criticizing, maybe it’s more about focusing on someone’s positive attributes and complimenting them (even if it’s only in your mind 🙂
So thanks again to Mandy! I like this plan of focusing on the positive rather than the negative.
Having grown up on the other side of your coin, Colleen–as Catholic–I have a long association with Lent. As a kid I routinely gave up candy, and just as routinely cheated, lied to myself, made up new rules about Lent (Sundays were a free day) and generally felt lousy about my failure to be perfect. Sound familiar? Without the gaudy trappings for you? As an adult, and a practicing Catholic once again, I found that I could much more gracefully–and self-forgivingly–refrain from things that were my small indulgences. Once I gave up soda pop for Lent and I have never really gone back to it! Wine is something else, and much harder. I find it easier to forgive myself as an adult, and as I have given up on the forgiveness-by-priest part of my faith, find that the peace that comes of admitting my very human failings, and resolving to do better is much better for my soul and my disposition.
But a good friend and VERY conservative Catholic taught me a valuable lesson one year. It is much harder to DO something for Lent than it is to REFRAIN from doing something. And it is all the more valuable in the difficulty. Give up my free time to work at the food pantry one day a week? Call my mother every Sunday? Go to Mass on a weekday morning, or stop in to the chapel every day walking to work, just to say hi to God? Much harder. Far less guilt inducing, and far harder to skip, because I know it is valuable to the larger world. A good lesson indeed.
Thank you SO much for this Mandy. Sounds like you came around full-circle to the best version of a practicing Catholic. I especially love, “I find it easier to forgive myself as an adult, and as I have given up on the forgiveness-by-priest part of my faith, find that the peace that comes of admitting my very human failings, and resolving to do better is much better for my soul and my disposition.”
This is a great take on the whole experience. It feels much more positive to add something good for the world for my new Lenten practise. I am writing this with a glass of rose firmly in hand…my last hoorah as it were.
But now? You’ve got me thinking.
Then again, perhaps I can do both??