The Journey of Lent

I’ve been away…. again.

I’ve been away on a journey. Along the way, I found myself in some interesting places, ran into some obstacles that I had to overcome, and was forced to face some dark and scary places. It provided lessons, this journey of mine, and provided opportunities for growth. The foremost lesson I came away with was the somewhat stark realization that this journey is not going to end. I have merely come to a clearing in the forest through which my path leads. In this clearing, I’m ready to begin sharing my thoughts with you again via this humble blip in the vast electronic universe we call cyberspace. The thing is I didn’t really go to, or through, a physical place. This was a journey to the deepest part of my inner self. Departing was not an option. For one thing, I entered the period where I had to determine whether to move from my Novitiate in the Order of St. Dominic to taking the next step and making my Temporary Profession, a promise to do the best I could to live in accordance with the rule of the Order for a period of three years. Becoming a Lay Dominican is not like joining a service club or a book discussion group. It’s a Vocation. It’s not a decision. It’s a discernment. I could probably write an entire separate blog post on that distinction and perhaps someday I will but suffice to say at this point it is an issue which requires the full attention of one’s Spiritual faculties. Neither is it something one hashes out in publicly posted thoughts. This wasn’t going on in a vacuum either—those obstacles and dark places I’ve already mentioned—so I had much to sort out. The blog fell off my radar screen. Now, we’ve arrived at the end of the first full week of an early Lenten season. This seems like as good as time as any to screw my discipline to the sticking plate and return to the keyboard. Will you all pray for me that I might find the wherewithal to post more frequently? I’ve gone back and looked at some of my earlier posts. I like some of them very much. Others are, well, meh. Back at it then! To review, since it’s been awhile, this blog is called Vehicle Vespers: Reflections of a Catholic Dad, because my Dad duties often require me to pray Vespers while on the run. The usual form being praying in the minivan while sitting in a parking lot before going into a game or picking someone up from work or a practice. I’m not sure that this prayer location has any direct relationship to the topics I decide to write about here, but a blog needs a title, does it not? Lent is our first topic, and I think it might be interesting to stick with the journey theme.

Most often we see Lent as a period of preparation. That is certainly a proper view. There is, though, a certain sense one gets of moving through Lent. We structure our preparation around the three chief undertakings of Lent: Prayer, Penance, and Charity (or almsgiving). I think a valid argument can be made that if we adequately engage in these three activities, we should hope that by the time Easter arrives we have achieved some level of Spiritual growth. It’s not unlike the strength training an athlete does to prepare for an upcoming season. The goal is strength and agility, but the means to that end is the time spent in the gym. It is ultimately a matter of assessing where we are and where we want to be. It is something we are called to go through. I, like many other Catholics, find the Stations of the Cross particularly meaningful and moving during Lent. Can we really walk along with Christ as he carries his Cross? Can we feel what we would have felt if we were there with those who loved him most as they witnessed that scene? We certainly strive to receive such a perspective from the Holy Spirit as we gather as a parish or community to share this wonderfully kinetic form of prayer. All the sights and sounds of Lent seem to have a very linear motion. Lent is not a bubble either. It is very much locked in with the full liturgical calendar of the Church. We begin the year in Advent, preparing ourselves for the wonderous arrival of the Christ child at the Nativity. Each week as another Advent candle is lighted, the anticipation grows, and then the peace, warmth, and well-being of Christmas Eve is upon us, and the bright light of hope rises with the Christmas morning sun. In our human weakness, though, peace on earth to people of good will cakes and falls off as we pass into the new year (Lk 2:14). It’s back to work and school. New tasks and responsibilities take hold. That proverbial grindstone spins roughly on our noses. The crush of secular reality asserts itself, and it does so right about the time that the days are the shortest, the nights darkest, and the climate coldest. Even at Mass and in our prayer books we find ourselves dutifully marking Ordinary time. The term is based on the ordinal nature of that part of the calendar, but the double entendre of the nomenclature, at least in English, is not lost on us. The Sacraments of course never lose their power and majesty. For my part, I don’t know sometimes how I would muddle through without them. And too, it is not a good witness to Christian charity or a good reflection of our Faith to fall into despair, even in the darkest of Winters. The truth is, however, that “the Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Mt 26:41). Tired of Spirit and worn out a bit from the weakness of our flesh. That is where we often find ourselves when Ash Wednesday arrives. Enter then, Prayer, Penance, and Charity. We observe and practice these guideposts to Spiritual strength to prepare ourselves for Easter, and they are the road signs we follow to restoration. They are the wooded paths that intersect with the road to Emmaus (Lk 24:13-35).

Perhaps this is me stretching to find support for the point I’m trying to make, but the readings from this first week of Lent are not without a few journey references. Sunday’s Gospel reading (Mk 1:12-15) speaks of Christ’s journey into the desert for forty days. Monday’s responsorial Psalm was Psalm 23 with it’s “walk in the dark valley.” On Tuesday, the prophet Isaiah speaks of the Word going forth from the mouth of God and achieving the end for which it was sent (Is 55:10-11). Wednesday we heard once again about Jonah’s trip to Nineveh (Jon 3:1-10), and the Gospel reading refers to the Queen of the south who “came from the ends of the earth” (Lk 11:29-32). Thursday we are taken to the Book of Esther, a traveler who was away from the land of her birth. In Friday’s Gospel reading Christ teaches that we should “Settle with your opponent quickly while on the way to court” (Mt 5:20-26). Now I want to be very clear that I’m not stating in any way that the purpose or focus of the readings for the first week in Lent are intended to be lessons on journeys, Spiritual or otherwise. The proper exegesis of Mass readings is the role of the Priest. I think it is safe to say, however, that the readings are applicable to Lent. I’m just noting that image of journeys is present in some of these readings.

This coming Sunday will be the 2nd Sunday of Lent and thus we move a step closer to Easter. Penance is largely an individual matter, and Charity in the form of almsgiving requires anonymity. That leaves Prayer as the best Lenten topic for further consideration. I’m planning to pray often and think about prayer a great deal this Lent. If you are willing, perhaps you would consider being a companion for my journey. I’d like to start a series of posts about prayer and specific prayers, how through prayer we can bring ourselves closer to God and more fully experience the love of Christ in our lives, and how we can then love one another as Christ has loved us (Jn 13:34-35). Specifically, I’d like to take a deeper look at The Invitatory, The Benedictus, The Magnificat, The Canticle of Simeon, and the Mysteries of the Rosary. I know that not everyone who visits this blog is Catholic, and some may not even be Christians. I can only quote one of my favorite hymns and say, “All Are Welcome.” Here I seek only to share, as the name implies, reflections of this Catholic dad.

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.