Today, in the faith tradition where I hang out, is known as Ash Wednesday. The beginning of the season of Lent, on the way to the wonders of Easter.
What I grew up knowing about Lent was mainly what I learned as a child in a very Catholic neighborhood where, according to my friends, it was a time of even more things you’d go to hell for, if you did them.
Fast forward, please, to last night and my dream of my first Lenten journey in the first church I served, in a tiny town in Tennessee. It turned out there were lots of things we hadn’t covered in seminary!
Well, maybe I missed a few as a single mom trying really, really hard not to fail Hebrew!
Anyway… there I was, in 1991. Cold, grey weather. Planning for Lent. My congregation had never had a service on Ash Wednesday before but the Worship Committee (all 3 of us!) were cautiously curious, so the planning began.
The pianist was delighted. The nursery helper was thrilled, too. Message… no problem! Logistics, on the other hand, became a challenge. My first question was where to get ashes for the service.
Nobody knew. I called Cokesbury, the store for all things church-y. They didn’t carry them. Turns out, tradition includes drying palm fronds from Palm Sunday the year before, saving them all year, and burning them for ashes the next year. Not so much an option!
Next phone call to the pastor in the big church up the road. As it happened, they hadn’t done that either, but he graciously offered me ashes from his fireplace and I accepted with relief.
In case you’re curious, we all survived our new liturgical adventures!
This year, I have a different plan. A very personal one, inspired by a new teacher, in the context of this very odd moment where we find ourselves… Hear the words of Pope Leo XIV:
I would like to invite you to a very practical and frequently unappreciated form of abstinence: that of refraining from words that offend and hurt our neighbor. Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves.
Instead, let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our friends, at work, on social media, in political debates, in the media, and in Christian communities. In this way, words of hatred will give way to words of hope and peace.
Now, I understand that, by tradition, the Pope is infallible so, rather than presuming to edit his wisdom, I’m going to go with one of my favorite grammatical strategies and add – you guessed it – a postscript!
ps… let us strive to do this in all our communities and interactions. I know I won’t get it perfect. I’m pretty sure perfect isn’t the point. Perhaps, awareness and choice are the point! In any event, with huge thanks, I’m going to practice!
pps… lately I’ve been thinking about all the things we carry that feel unexpressed. And, I have some new magic for changing that. If this speaks to you, let’s talk! Just click here and the calendar elves will hook you up with 45 minutes. My gift!