Lent begins next week on Ash Wednesday.
As a cradle Catholic, I have observed this penitential season my entire life.
My observation of the season has evolved over my lifetime as I have grown in my spirituality.
When I was a student at St. Stephen’s school in Streator, Lent was a very strict season of self-denial, fasting and almsgiving. There is a term for this kind of strict self-denial – ascetism – and it is a lifestyle that is still practiced by some monastic communities.
The point behind all of these austere practices was to recognize how attached we were to our own vices and other worldly ways. By denying ourselves these little indulgences, we could open the doors to spiritual freedom.
And I have to admit, at the end of 40 days of self-denial, I often felt new and refreshed. When Holy Week came, I was able to more fully participate and understand what was going on at the Last Supper, Good Friday and Holy Saturday. And Easter felt like what it is supposed to feel: a spiritual rebirth.
There is something to be said for incorporating some of these practices into our daily lives to keep us grounded and focused on what really matters – the one “in whom we live and move and have our being.”
But these extreme acts of self-denial are not the only way to observe Lent.
In fact, I have found there are gentler ways to observe this liturgical season that are just as meaningful and spiritually enriching as their austere counterparts.
Whatever “penance” we choose to observe during Lent should not be something that makes us miserable and cranky and has the same effect on those around us. It should be something that brings us joy.
And it should be something that ultimately softens our hearts to the world around us and the people who live in it.
If we “do” Lent, check off all the boxes of what we are “supposed” to do, and at the end still don’t see how Jesus’s Golden Rule – do unto others as you would have done unto you – applies to us, then we haven’t “done” Lent right.
There is a wide array of activities and practices to choose from to proactively enrich our spirituality.
If we don’t already, we can make meditation on the daily scripture reading a practice. Maybe journal our response to each day’s readings. The readings each day during Lent prepare us for Holy Week. Doing this will allow the word to infuse our hearts and minds more deeply.
We can go to daily Mass, if possible. Maybe pray the rosary each day. St. Michael’s parish in Streator will offer its annual Lenten “Light of the World” weekend retreat in a few weeks. As someone who was active in the We are the Church program for many years, I can tell you that these Lenten retreats are a profound way of recollecting ourselves spiritually and connecting with other people.
On a more practical note, we might decide to take a specific amount of time each day to pray for a group of suffering people who are in our heart, to align ourselves with them and grow in understanding of their experience. We could take it a step further and volunteer for an organization that directly benefits those who suffer.
However we choose to observe Lent, it should be in a way that is personally meaningful. If we do something because we think we have to but are resentful about it, it is counterproductive.
This year, Lent is likely to take on a whole new meaning for me. As an empath, each day I feel in my body the pain, suffering, rage and trauma that are so pervasive in the collective consciousness right now. Even when I am doing something else, I am subconsciously worried about the future and the real probability of devastation to the planet and millions of human lives – including lives of people I know and care about. Not to mention the pain that comes from knowing there are people in this world who don’t care about any of it enough to be concerned.
I know I am not alone in this experience.
By bringing all of these emotions that are a direct result of sinful behavior, actions, lies and misinformation into my Lenten observation, I hope to more fully understand what it felt like for Jesus to carry the weight of a humanity that is anything but humane on his shoulders.
This Lent, my walk with Jesus on the road to calvary will be like none other in my life so far.
And by the grace of God, I hope we can all say the same for Easter Sunday.
SPIRIT MATTERS is a weekly column by Jerrilyn Zavada Novak that examines experiences common to the human spirit. Contact her at jzblue33@yahoo.com.