I have been asked to do for the season
of Lent what I did for Advent, that is, to provide a cursory guide for observing
this commemoration of the forty days which Christ dwelt in the desert before his
Passion and Crucifixion. I gladly do so while prefacing the following
comments in noting that although Advent and Lent are in the same situation with
respect to secularism, the traditions of Lent have been kept more or less
intact while Advent has almost ceased to be recognizable in the face of the
secular Christmas holiday. Easter, despite being able to get more Resurrection for your money at your local Walmart, is not the money-maker that Christmas
is. Traditions such as Mardi Gras, “Fat Tuesday,” and fish-fry Fridays are the popular
associates of Lent and are, in fact, popular in the contemporary sense of the word. In short, Lent itself is almost more
lucrative to business than Easter is, and while this will not prevent a new
iPhone from finding its way into the American Easter basket, Lent does not
suffer the pressures under which Advent has deteriorated. All this being said, true
observance and preservation of Lent rests only in the context of the Church and
the liturgical year. Besides, getting more Easter for my money leaves me
half expecting that my bill will come out to something like thirty
pieces of silver.
So what has Tradition bequeathed to
us in the celebration of Lent? I list first the popular practices of Lent, such
as weekly praying of the Stations of the Cross, abstaining from
meat and fasting on Fridays, working and praying to end a bad habit and (and
more fruitfully) sacrificing some necessity or good, for a sacrifice of sin is
no sacrifice at all. Service is also of principal importance, disposing a heart
to be ever-ready to give of himself with a sacrificial love in daily life, for
as Pope Benedict XVI writes of the Washing of the Feet, “Jesus represents the
whole of his saving ministry in one symbolic act. He divests himself of his
divine splendor; he, as it were, kneels down before us; he washes and dries our
soiled feet, in order to make us fit to sit at table for God’s wedding feast.” Additional
spiritual reading is also always recommended. Liguori Press, has, as it does
for Advent, Lenten wisdom books. But I especially like reading about the
Passion itself and for this purpose I have to suggest Pope Emeritus Benedict’s Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week. Reading
five pages a day throughout Lent and reflecting and meditating on Christ’s
Passion is a beautiful way to spend time in the desert with Our Lord. Or read
another spiritual classic, such as Thomas Á Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, that forms the spiritual life in the crucible of
Lent.
In addition to these Lenten practices,
an environment that aids the observance of Lent and the spiritual growth of the
soul therein can be established in very simple ways. Christ’s “Lent” provides a home environment for our own Lent: the desert, being conducive to prayer but also open to temptations
of a nearly exclusive spiritual nature, an opportunity to let God find the soul
or for the soul to refuse His Love.
The Church tradition has, of course,
adornments for this desert, but these ornaments are largely negative, i.e.,
they channel the soul towards renouncement of one’s own will that opens the heart
to a new-found love for the crosses of its vocation. Such decorations of
desolation are a real Crown of Thorns—especially if made from the branches of a
Hawthorne tree—placed as a table centerpiece or in another focal point for the
home, accompanied by large, iron nails. Besides this ultimate symbol of humility,
however, Lent is distinguished as a season not so much by what it adds but by what
it strips man of, just as Christ was stripped. The desert life epitomizes the
spirit that ought to be sought for and which heeds contemplation and service in
Lent. In the home, cover beautiful artwork or remove it outright from the walls
and tabletops. If one wishes to have a more concrete reminder of the desert, I
have also heard of filling jars with sand and placing barren sticks in them,
setting these about the inside of the home. Moreover, since Lent corresponds with
Spring, especially this year, resist the desire to pick flowers and new blooms
for interior arrangements…for yourself, that is. By all means, offer them
solely to a statue of Our Mother, a small bit of solace offered to her whose
soul was also pierced as, at the foot of the Cross, she gazed up at her tortured,
dying, dead son. While outside, allow oneself to wonder at the blossoms of the Dogwood tree, streaked with red in the sign of the Cross.
There is one common practice that I
am not in favor of, however, and that is the complete veiling of the Crucifix during
Lent. Leaving this piece of artwork exposed gives us our end, the goal of Lent:
to die to ourselves that we may be raised with Christ. It serves as a reminder
of Christ as a complete and boundless “being for” whom we are to imitate in our own vocation. In this time in the desert, we must call to
mind what St. Josemaria Escrivá tells us, that in every vocation there are “The
everyday hidden crosses…the cross that is waiting for the corpus that it lacks:
and that corpus must be you.” The Crucifix that is the sign of Love, of God giving
His whole being absolutely, of God Being Himself to Man—this is the great image of perfection. For us to heed the command to “Be perfect,” we should
keep ever before our eyes, in our palms, and pressed against our lips, the
bloodied Crucifix.
In fact, to exalt the Crucifix in
Lent is to tap a spring from which flows the desert life. It is my prayer for
all who read this that something from the above comments might accompany you as you pass
through this land with Christ, this Lenten trial whereby each of us might be judged
worthy to mount a cross of our own.
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