I have never really gotten the idea of giving up nice foods for Lent. Before I became a Catholic, I honestly thought that it would be a far greater sacrifice for me to make decent meals for myself regularly instead of fasting. Oh, I should add that I always thought what we were supposed to do on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday was fast on water. I was usually completely mentally disoriented by the end of these days. Thank goodness for RCIA -- when I was a Catechist, that is, and the other catechist explained what the Church really instructs about fasting.
The other thing about giving up certain foods is that it doesn't encourage much for me except gorging on same when the fasting time is over.
But I'm not really here to judge what other people choose to do. Just mulling things over.
I went to Confession the other night, and the priest gave me a very helpful idea. I would say that he told me something helpful, but the truth of the matter was it was an open setting with many Confession stations, and he was whispering quietly and I didn't really hear exactly what he said. I once had an elderly priest tell me not to talk so loud because everyone would hear me. Maybe I need to get my hearing checked, or stick with the enclosed rooms. Anyway, the idea this priest gave me was to thank God each day for how He has called me into service, and thereby commit myself to serving. To own the service God calls me to, and to manage myself accordingly.
So simple, but revolutionary. I realize I have been allowing certain aspects of my life to remain exterior to my heart. I suppose that sounds weird, but I think this hearkens back to something else I blogged about Confession a few months ago. It was the idea of feeling like I have this real life that is just me, my internality, and that the rest of life was all that other stuff "outside" of my perceived said real life. Well, I see now just how out of God's will it is to consider certain difficult relationships, for example, to be "outside" of my "real life". I see the need for sucking up a lot of those perceived exterior things into my interiority. Or better put.... um.... well, I don't know exactly. Stop being so compartmentalized? Get a life? Act like a normal person? Live from my heart? Yeah, let's keep that one. Live my whole life from my heart. Have courage. Have faith. Know God is real, and with me. That means I can do it.
God calls me to serve, which means, really, merging my interiority and my external surroundings, my responsibilities, my circumstances, my relationships, all that I do. To serve is to live my whole life from my heart. That is my Lenten direction. That's what I have for embracing every morning when I get up.
I write in short punchy phrases when I'm hungry. And I probably can't think at all without writing right now.
3 comments:
Thanks for sharing your personal insights. It makes so much sense to me. I have asked two Memores friends what their suggestion for Lent would be. They both suggested to live the invitations of the Movement more seriously, since this is what I am called to. They named the Liturgy of the Hours, the Angelus, studying the School of Community, being more serious about turning to God constantly with the "Veni Sancte Spiritus, veni per Mariam." I think this way opens up all of my life to Him, as you say about integrating our interior and exterior. This way I can verify all of the circumstances of life, all my life. It doesn't let me off the hook, because Lent is the prod to be more aware.
Yes, thanks for this, Marie. Lent has always confused me. But then during Advent I read something that Father Giussani wrote about Advent that really struck me -- that the season carries with it a special grace (I'm not even paraphrasing -- I'm probably getting it all wrong!) -- in any case, this inspiration made me realize that walking up to Advent (or in this case, Lent), is analogous to walking up the Communion line -- full of expectation and certainty that a special grace is waiting for me there. Now, I want to approach all of Lent with my hands out, asking God to place there whatever precious gift he has for me. I want to walk up to every moment of Lent in the same way that I approach the sacrament during Mass -- with the firm expectation that I am always about to participate in and be transformed by a miracle.
Yes, I think what I need most (in life, as in Lent) is a deep grasp on the Why. It is enough for me that the Church directs us to fast and abstain on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday; I'm all over it. But from there on out the direction gets nebulous and general, not to confuse us I'm certain, but to send us seeking for the personal word from Jesus for now, the one that fits my heart in its current condition.
I think even without a What list, if I have a Why, the What becomes clear. It's almost like switching to a new, bright light bulb that suddenly brings so much more into view that begs of its own accord for my attention.
I like the image of traveling towards a special grace. Certainly that is valid for every day, but how much more for a spectacular preparatory season like Lent. I've always considered that God is efficient and does not engage in meaningless and vain exercises. So I'm sure that seeing Lent in that light is to get it all wrong.
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