Last week in my parish, during a discussion in one of the adult formation classes, the question was asked generally, “What are you giving up for Lent.” For whatever reason, I mentally had a visceral reaction to this. I was so averse to this that I was going through an almost “Litany of the Pharisee” to the question.
- I do intermittent fasting, so I already fast once a day.
- Year-long I abstain from meat on Fridays.
- I give of my money and time (even if grudgingly).
- I am over the age where it is no longer mandatory that I fast, but I do it anyway.
- Etc.
So I am going through this mental litany of my woes, and why should I, as a primarily isolated widower, need any more penance?
Then it hit me that “Wow do I need to kick up my Lenten penance a notch.” My plans for the upcoming Lent were minimal. I had been settling for “good enough” when it wasn’t. A Pharisee exceptionalism that those rules don’t apply to me, but you sinners! My plans for Lent could only be described as acedia.
My plans for Lent now have a little more bite to them. I was thinking about what goods I need to be more detached from. This is like a multiple choice question with a slew of answers and “All of the above” is the correct answer. Still, I had had big plans for Lent before and failed miserably at achieving what I wanted—how dare reality teach me humility! So I am trying to start with a “when I fall, let Jesus pick me up” attitude and not attempt this with my own will.
Another reaction to this question is that it is such a poorly phrased question. It focuses on the means but not the meaning. I would probably be annoyed if somebody asked me, “What are your plans for growing closer to Jesus this Lent?” but that is the right question. We can be more closely focused on the deprivations and not the goal. “No pain, no gain” might be trite, but it applies even more to the spiritual life.
So I am ready for Lent to start and for reality to attempt to teach me humility.
