(no subject)
April 3, 2009
13.
I was really only moved by one thing in my pastor’s Ash Wednesday sermon: something to the effect that one can go into Lent without knowing what one’s going to do to observe Lent. “And that’s OK,” he said.
I didn’t grow up with Lent. I was impressed by it enough in my sophomore year of high school-the year we did “Godspell”-that I observed it for the first time. I gave up soda and started drinking seltzer. Twenty-six years later, I’ve largely given up soda due to its corn syrup content and still drink lots of seltzer.
I was also impressed in seventh grade by a Catholic classmate who didn’t eat meat on Good Friday. Later when I found out abstension from meat was a traditional Lenten “thing” I did it too, though I was Protestant and no way bound by pre-Vatican II practices. I still shy from meat on Fridays in Lent, though I have often wondered if this practice is a bit hypocritical, seeing I don’t pay the Lord enough attention the rest of the year and don’t eat a lot of meat anyway. And now that I’ve been diagnosed with anemia, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to avoid meat. That being said, it’s Friday, and I purposely had a grilled veggie burrito for supper at Anna’s instead of going across the street to McDonald’s. My rice wasn’t “meatless”, though, as Anna’s usually cooks theirs in chicken broth and I didn’t care enough to specify vegetarian.
Giving up chocolate? Not hardly. In fact, I’ve been positively addicted to luxury chocolate bars of late. There was a sale on Ghirardelli bars at Rite Aid last week, so I splurged on two-about $4 dollars in all-to smuggle into a movie and to share my friends, among that particular pack a man I have a crush on. He was delighted, being a fan of Ghirardelli chocolate and having turned me on to same. Tonight, however, I couldn’t bring myself to spend $4.29 on a bar of Lindt Crème Brulee chocolate. Four-dollars-and-change for a chocolate bar seems like a lot of money to spend when I am still catching up on bills. I’ve as much as promised myself a bar of same for my Easter candy, to go along with the little milk chocolate eggs I already got at church last week (and have so far not eaten).
I actually half-jokingly pondered to myself on Ash Wednesday night, “Shall I give up knitting? I like it so much.” My half-joking answer to myself came strong and clear, “NO WAY”. I finished knitting a couple of dishcloths since then and feel no less pious for having enjoyed the work. And the general consensus now in my Protestant neck of the woods that one need not give up enjoyable things to have a holy Lent. (I suspect the Lord likes me to knit as much as I do.)
I have been more careful about going to services these past few weeks. This is not just because of Lent but because there has been an ongoing discussion about whether our church can survive. (It’s a very small congregation with not enough personnel, let alone energy, to get all the work done that a “thriving” church has to do.) I have even settled with myself, for now, that if I have to show up late, so be it. Better to show up late than not at all, and I think I’m over the embarrassment of walking in well after ten, though I have the shortest “commute” of anyone else to services. Partaking in the discussion feels like “the thing I’m doing to observe Lent”. Then again, other things I do (almost unconsciously and out of habit) feel like “other things I’m doing to observe Lent”.
13.
I was really only moved by one thing in my pastor’s Ash Wednesday sermon: something to the effect that one can go into Lent without knowing what one’s going to do to observe Lent. “And that’s OK,” he said.
I didn’t grow up with Lent. I was impressed by it enough in my sophomore year of high school-the year we did “Godspell”-that I observed it for the first time. I gave up soda and started drinking seltzer. Twenty-six years later, I’ve largely given up soda due to its corn syrup content and still drink lots of seltzer.
I was also impressed in seventh grade by a Catholic classmate who didn’t eat meat on Good Friday. Later when I found out abstension from meat was a traditional Lenten “thing” I did it too, though I was Protestant and no way bound by pre-Vatican II practices. I still shy from meat on Fridays in Lent, though I have often wondered if this practice is a bit hypocritical, seeing I don’t pay the Lord enough attention the rest of the year and don’t eat a lot of meat anyway. And now that I’ve been diagnosed with anemia, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to avoid meat. That being said, it’s Friday, and I purposely had a grilled veggie burrito for supper at Anna’s instead of going across the street to McDonald’s. My rice wasn’t “meatless”, though, as Anna’s usually cooks theirs in chicken broth and I didn’t care enough to specify vegetarian.
Giving up chocolate? Not hardly. In fact, I’ve been positively addicted to luxury chocolate bars of late. There was a sale on Ghirardelli bars at Rite Aid last week, so I splurged on two-about $4 dollars in all-to smuggle into a movie and to share my friends, among that particular pack a man I have a crush on. He was delighted, being a fan of Ghirardelli chocolate and having turned me on to same. Tonight, however, I couldn’t bring myself to spend $4.29 on a bar of Lindt Crème Brulee chocolate. Four-dollars-and-change for a chocolate bar seems like a lot of money to spend when I am still catching up on bills. I’ve as much as promised myself a bar of same for my Easter candy, to go along with the little milk chocolate eggs I already got at church last week (and have so far not eaten).
I actually half-jokingly pondered to myself on Ash Wednesday night, “Shall I give up knitting? I like it so much.” My half-joking answer to myself came strong and clear, “NO WAY”. I finished knitting a couple of dishcloths since then and feel no less pious for having enjoyed the work. And the general consensus now in my Protestant neck of the woods that one need not give up enjoyable things to have a holy Lent. (I suspect the Lord likes me to knit as much as I do.)
I have been more careful about going to services these past few weeks. This is not just because of Lent but because there has been an ongoing discussion about whether our church can survive. (It’s a very small congregation with not enough personnel, let alone energy, to get all the work done that a “thriving” church has to do.) I have even settled with myself, for now, that if I have to show up late, so be it. Better to show up late than not at all, and I think I’m over the embarrassment of walking in well after ten, though I have the shortest “commute” of anyone else to services. Partaking in the discussion feels like “the thing I’m doing to observe Lent”. Then again, other things I do (almost unconsciously and out of habit) feel like “other things I’m doing to observe Lent”.