Crossing the Alleluia Threshold

I wonder if any of you feel the same thing I do today.

Holy Thursday is unique in that it literally straddles two seasons of the Liturgical year. Morning prayer this morning was a Lenten observance; the final Lenten observance. The Easter Triduum began with Holy Thursday Mass, or Evening prayer depending on the form one selects for observing this special day in the calendar. I found the tangible threshold of passing over (pun only slightly intended) from Lent to Easter in the pages of the Divine Office very pronounced. We find ourselves at the end of a long 40 days of penance, alms giving, self-denial, and self-examination. Tomorrow is, of course, a day of great personal and introspective prayer. If today is a day of threshold, tomorrow is a day of peering over the precipice. Tonight, Christ asks us to serve one another and remember him in a special way. Tomorrow, we ponder the concept of life without Christ. It is always startling to dip one’s finger into the Baptismal font as a matter of habit only to find it empty and dry. Perhaps, after such a long time away from this blog, I’ll write more tomorrow about Good Friday. Right now, though, I want to stay focused on today and this evening and return to this concept of the Holy Thursday threshold. We should, I think, be relieved to return to normal; to enjoy with abandon those things we gave up for Lent, to have meat back on Fridays, to sing and say “Alleluia!” at Mass once again. I wonder, however, if any of you feel, as I do, a bit of sadness at the departure of Lent. It is such a spiritual time. Is there not something calming in the stoic, measured, and deep nature of our Church lives during these six weeks? I think that in the same way Christmas brings out the child in all of us, Lent brings out the grown-up. We have all heard the common admonition that we should carry a bit of the Christmas spirit with us all through the year. I think we should carry a bit of Lent with us all year as well. Or, maybe I’m just weak and I need the structure of the discipline a designated block of time provides. There is no maybe. I am weak. I do need the structure. It’s why you haven’t seen a post from me for a while. I’ve been soul-searching during Lent, and it gave me pause; made me hesitant to write about things that I’m still so actively exploring myself.

I guess what I want to say is that this has been a meaningful Lent for me, and I hope that it has been for you as well. As we cross this Alleluia threshold into Easter and head toward Pentecost, I find that I still can’t discern if Lent is a journey, or if it is a rest stop on the roadside of a bigger journey. Either way, part of me will miss the day-to-day wins and losses of trying to carve out a better receptacle for God’s love, Christ’s sacrifice, and a bounty of a Grace that passes all understanding.

A blessed Triduum to you all!

Weapons of Self-Restraint

Jesus said,

“:…when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face 18 so that your fasting will not be noticed by men, but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.” (Mt. 6:17)

It is not a complex teaching. It’s quite direct, and it gives me pause. The whole first section of Matthew chapter 6 comprises similar direct teachings on the dangers of overt piety. I find myself in a dilemma. Publishing a blog inherently involves a certain amount of attention seeking. No matter the motive, one cannot get around the fact that blogging says, “Hey! Look at me; listen to what I have to say!” Lent is supposed to be a time of introspection and preparation. A time for a new examination of short-comings, not a time to polish and proclaim one’s talents. I held off publishing anything on Ash Wednesday, because these thoughts troubled me. I even thought that maybe I should set this site aside for the entire 40 days. On the other hand, I’ve decided to start a blog with a religious and Catholic theme, and it seems almost an act of malfeasance not to share the thoughts and experiences coming my way between now and Holy Week. I think the best course of action, then, is to proceed, but to do so cautiously and carefully. With that in mind, I would like to share a few thoughts about this season we have just entered. In sharing my heart a bit, I hope to give you some food for thought, and maybe some encouragement. Reactions and comments, by-the-way, are always welcomed.

I Love You

I do. Even if I have never met you, I love you.  I  feel this in a very strong way with regard to the general topic of spiritual examination. For those of you who practice Lenten traditional practices, we share something very deep, and an understanding of the hope and purpose these traditions embody. Other net travelers who land here and are still reading out of interest or slight curiosity make a gift of that interest and curiosity.  Gifts like that are the seeds that lead to fraternal blossoms, and can bear much fraternal fruit. To all, then, I say very sincerely: brothers and sisters, I love you.

You Are Not Alone

Many religious people from all walks of life take individual affirmative spiritual actions–like sacrifice, vocation, alms-giving, and prayer–throughout the year. The wonderful thing about Lent is that we all do it together and at the same time. It is not just about getting ourselves prepared for Christ’s Passion and Resurrection. It is also about renewing our sense of Apostolic responsibility to each other. As each individual abstains or gives alms, it pulls the focus off of self and puts it on God. When we are focused on how much we love that cheeseburger, that chocolate bar, that diet soda, or that glass of fine Scotch, we fixate on the fleeting and the perishable; the meaningless. Our backs are turned, even if only for a short time, from the rest of the faithful. When we return our focus back to God, though, we turn our faces toward the truth, and find ourselves shoulder-to-shoulder instead of back-to-back. I don’t mean to say that we only care about others for 40 days out of the year. My point is that the 40 days is the conditioning, training, and refocusing work that carries us through the rest of the liturgical year. The concluding prayer for the Morning Hours in the Divine Office for Ash Wednesday referred to fasting and penance as “weapons of self-restraint.”  We cannot battle the challenges, or overcome the obstacles the ever-decaying world throws at us without tools, and we cannot do it alone. That phrase really jumped off the page at me. In a recent post, Catholic mom and blogger, Pilar, details the way even acquaintances in a parish community rally together to face the toughest challenges of life and support each other through prayer, help, and love. [https://thepapistsquirrel.wordpress.com/2018/02/16/ashes-to-ashes/] We don together our “weapons of self-restraint,” and protect each other.

Rejoicing in Grace and Salvation

One of  the most well-known calls to action in scripture comes from the Psalms:

“This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  (Ps 118:24)

During Lent, that can be a big ask. The word “Alleluia” disappears from Mass and the daily prayers of the Church. It’s often wet, cold, and gloomy. We hit a rough day, and even the comfort of that favorite item we’ve given up is not there as a reward to greet us at that day’s end. Deep in prayer, abstinence, fasting, alms-giving, and self-examination, we  can struggle to find fuel for rejoicing. The reasons remain. We must always remember that we aren’t fasting, abstaining, praying deeply, and giving alms for our sake. Penance isn’t a punch card that when completed gets us a reservation to Heaven. Grace remains constant. The Cross of Christ’s passion is a never-ending bulwark of salvation. If we endure discomfort in our earthly bodies, of what real concern is that? We are dust and to dust we shall return. Those smudges we sport on Ash Wednesday are certainly not fashion statements. Penance and fasting don’t blot out the joy of realizing the Love, Mercy, and Grace of the Gospel. They are expressions of that joy. That’s the mystery. These “weapons of self-restraint” are not restraining, but liberating. They allow us to push ourselves out of the way, so we can fully know the Mercy of God, through the passionate Love of Christ our savior, with the power of the Holy Spirit, which gives us hope and faith.

May the Lord Bless us,
protect us from all evil,
and bring us to eternal life.
Amen.

 

Praying is Fundamental

For the past 35 minutes or so, I have been staring at my last blog entry trying to decide what I wanted to write about next. I just wasn’t hitting on anything. I started worrying that maybe I wouldn’t stick with this blog; that I would get bored with it and let it lapse. Realizing that worry is not something we get from God, I forced myself to snap out of my self-important and futile fretting. I gave up trying think of a topic, and instead prayed for guidance. Now, my fingers are moving smoothly across the keys, and the spell of the vaunted blank page has been broken. We humans really can be mewling, faithless, ungrateful brats sometimes. Would you believe that I was actually surprised that my prayer was answered in such a tangible way? I don’t seem to be doing a very good job today applying the fundamentals. In this case, prayer and faith.

Anyone who has played organized sports, or has a child who has done so, knows that coaches stress the importance of fundamentals. When players lose a grasp on the fundamentals, they almost always experience a loss of results. I think the same thing is true about prayer. Take a step back and think about the ebb and flow of your daily life. How many times a day do you catch yourself burning a few useless minutes letting anxiety and stress wash over you? I know it happens to me. Those minutes could be spent in prayer. We need to avoid falling into the trap of believing that prayer is only for Sundays or times of extreme despair.

Recently, I saw an episode of “Priests and Deacons: Ministers of Mercy,” in which Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers and Father Brian Mullady related the story of a Church official tasked with counseling the priests of the Diocese who were considering putting aside their vocations and leaving the priesthood. This official always began his sessions with the same question: “When did you stop praying?” Priests are required to pray the Liturgy of the Hours every day. That’s five times a day! That must be a very arduous duty for one who is the Pastor of a large parish. Why does the Church lay this extra burden on our already overworked Priests? I believe it is because the Church recognizes that the religious life is difficult, and that pitfalls are everywhere. Prayer is a direct conduit to perseverance.

There are two main reasons why people of faith don’t pray or stop praying. The first is hubris; they want to handle things on their own, or worse they don’t feel they deserve the benefits of prayer. The other is timidity. I often hear people say that they don’t know what to say when they pray. Some people believe they aren’t good at it. As in all things, Christ carries the burden for us here as well.

 “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. 30 Even all the hairs of your head are counted. 31 So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Mt 10:29-31)

God answers prayers:

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Mt 7:7)

We certainly do know what to say. Jesus taught the Lord’s Prayer/Our Father. It takes about ten seconds to recite.  (Mt 6:9-13), and it fits the bill perfectly:

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Mt 6:8)

If you are Catholic, you almost certainly have a Rosary somewhere, and the entire book of Psalms is a work containing prayers for all occasions.

Finally, try to pray for others as much or more as you pray for yourself. This is a good way we can express our love for Christ, for God, and for each other. A sense of Hope, a fullness of Faith, a self-awareness that leads to reconciliation, and an open receiving heart that feels fully the Love and Mercy of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit all begin with and are sustained through prayer.

May the Lord Bless us,
protect us from all evil,
and bring us to eternal life.
Amen.