Wednesday, March 5, 2014

March Madness...Lent for the rest of us.



 "And you will be the called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live."- Isaiah 58:12


Exactly 53 minutes into Lent, I failed. With ashes on my forehead and everything. I have to say this is a new record for me.  Usually I make it to at least Thursday morning. To make things worse, by 4 pm, I was trying to rationalize why Lifesaver gummies were not considered candy and I don’t even like them.  And I didn’t realize until about 1153 today that Trader Joes carried so many different kinds of chocolate.  Who knew?  For Lent this year, I have decided to give up meat, desserts and wine.  I could never maintain a strict Orthodox fast.   In the Orthodox tradition meat, dairy, fish, olive oil and wine are forbidden during Lent.  However, octopus is allowed as is vegetable oil. I am not sure what the Orthodox eat exactly during Lent, but I knew I could never maintain that kind of fast, given that I don’t like octopus.  Does anyone really even eat that?  Meat, wine and dessert will be enough of a challenge for me.  I wanted to give up parking lot duty, but I am fairly certain my principal wouldn’t go for that, even for religious reasons.  It never dawned on me until today that food is truly not my obstacle to loving God and my neighbor, groceries stores are.  Seriously.  I get into more sin in a grocery store and it has never involved food or wine.  OK, maybe wine once, but never food.   And to be honest, I am fairly certain that the only chocolate that ever was stumbling block to loving my neighbor was those special chocolate covered eggs. And we all know how that turned out. 
Someone asked me what it was about the Ash Wednesday liturgy I liked exactly.  I didn’t really have an answer for that question, but it wouldn’t feel like Lent to me without walking around with ashes on my forehead.  I was introduced to the concept of fasting and ashes by a cardiologist, of all folk.  I was his nurse and every year on Ash Wednesday his wife called me to remind him to attend mass before he came home that night.  Lucky for him, the hospital had chaplains on standby round the clock on Ash Wednesday for the sole purpose of imposition of ashes.  I am not sure he ever made it to mass, but he always had ashes on his forehead because I made a call to the chaplain every year to stop by and mark him.  I didn’t want him in trouble with his wife.  The first year, I didn’t want to hurt the chaplain’s feelings when he came to put the ashes on my forehead, plus it seemed such a waste to come all the way to our unit for just one person, so I just pretended like I had done this my entire life.  
But that is not the only reason I like Ash Wednesday.  I like the liturgical calendar. (I also think the Joel chapter 2 and Isaiah 58  is beautifully written and I love to hear it read aloud, something that usually only happens about once or twice a year in the church).  Something about keeping sacramental time makes me feel grounded and something about ashes on my forehead makes me feel like maybe one day I might shine like all those saints in the glass windows at church.  Plus, it reminds me that life is shockingly short and we need to live it and be exceedingly grateful for it.
So how did I manage to fail Lent before noon today and less than an hour after I left church?   It was going to the darned grocery store. I am sure you all remember my Advent incident.  Pertinence, grocery stores and I don’t mix.  (I am also trying to give up cursing this Lent and I am proud to say, that I went to a baseball game tonight and have watched 10 minutes of the Wake game and have not said one curse word).   I had gotten my organic bananas, (which yes, I realize is completely irrational since they are encased in a peel), my trail mix without chocolate and my cheese.  I was standing in line thinking about all the chocolate around me, when out of nowhere a man rams his cart into mine, crushing my fingers and then breaks in line.  True story.   After I rubbed my crushed fingers, I turned to glare and say something very clever like, “I would yell at you right now, but I just came from church”, or “I realize this is the season of pain and suffering, but that doesn’t mean to inflict it on others,” or “I am guessing you are not giving up rudeness for Lent this year?”, or “I do so hope what is in your basket is to feed the hungry and poor and not your gluttonous self.”  Then I began to wish him ill or at least a parking ticket or a migraine.  I paid for my things, stomped off to my car, inwardly fuming and as I started my car, I saw him.  I realized that he was aged, he was walking with a limp and couldn’t really see all that well.  He really looked sad too.  And he was having trouble loading his groceries in his car.  And I glanced over at my BCP and then it hit.  The reason why we wear ashes or even keep Lent at all.  It is to keep us human.
True, giving up things might make us a tad more aware of our inner selves and the stuff we carry around that God is (literally), dying to heal.  But I think it might be more about becoming more humane which is to say to behave like humans.  I honestly sometimes think that is what the cross is all about.  To remind us what happens when we fail to be human. And humans do one thing that other living things cannot…LOVE.  If God wants us to do anything at all during Lent, it would be to be humans.   And that, my friends is more easily said than done.  Particularly, when your neighbor breaks in line at Trader Joes. The next 40 days of Lent really aren’t about how much meat I give up or how much wine I don’t drink or passing up Lifesaver gummies or chocolate at Trader Joes.  It is about Who I am giving in to.  Lent doesn’t say it is not my problem, it is not my neighborhood, it is not my child, and it is not my responsibility.  What Lent really says is… “this is not happening on my watch.” 
So as tonight, I try to wash ashes from my forehead and remember that from dust I came and to dust I will return, perhaps, instead of “Jesus please help me not eat meat or Lifesaver gummies…” it should be, “not on my watch.” 

All is grace…

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