Getting warmed up

Happy Valentine's Day! It's very interesting that it falls right at the start of Lent. Of course, it was bound to happen; any late 16th-century kindergartener could have deduced that February 14, 2013 would be the day after Ash Wednesday of the same year.

All the same, don't you feel something a little jarring? Whether it's Valentine's Day or St. Patrick's Day, perhaps you have a sense of something being off, when the day in question falls in Lent. How do I deal with that?, you might ask yourself. Will I celebrate it with flowers and chocolate or green beer, or will I look wistfully on as the unchurched continue appropriating the celebrations for themselves?

The answer, I think, is already given to us. As Chesterton observed, there is no other such great contradictory religion as Catholicism. Here we have two very (seemingly) contradictory events: Valentine's Day, no longer an official feast day, it is true, but still a day very much rooted in Catholic heritage and one or two saintly people named Valentine– a holiday on which love is supposed to reign supreme, and people give themselves leave (or feel obligated) to show their affection in extraordinary ways– and Lent, a period of mortification, prayer, and giving. In fact, on closer inspection, they are very well suited for each other. For what is love without sacrifice? And what is sacrifice without love?

If you are perplexed about the former question, look no further than the superficial traditions and guilt-trips our culture has tacked onto Valentine's Day. The latter question is less accessible, precisely because this culture has divorced sacrifice from love, and when it uses 'sacrifice' at all, it means things like "paying more taxes so we can spend more money on every level... for the kids" or soldiers who "sacrifice for this country" without any further elucidation.

Love and sacrifice. They go together. Put aside time today to do something that will add warmth to your Lent.

Ash Wednesday

Remember, man, that thou art dust,

and to dust thou shalt return.

How is your fast going? Father Z asked the same question, and from the comments it looks like a lot of people are going at it with great intensity! 

Remember not to be like John Dashwood, though.

John Dashwood: In such cases, I would rather do too much than too little.

Whereupon his wife replies: There's no telling what they expect. The question is what can you afford?

And so, in a matter of minutes, John is persuaded not to offer his poor relations any monetary assistance whatsoever.

In an alternate universe where John Dashwood was Catholic, I can see him being similarly persuaded for the sake of one thing or another to make no alteration to his Ash Wednesday meals, either. Such is the power of selfishness and a feeble will!

All of this (self indulgence) is behind us now. You and I enter the desert of Lent and endeavor to put our better selves back in control of the body and its hundreds of cravings and demands. This is not only for the sake of self improvement (for which we should always be striving), but more importantly so that we can become Christ to the world and make it a more beautiful place.

We are temples of the Holy Spirit, and such temples are not the work of one day, even a very pious day, of fasting and abstinence, supported by prayer, and showing its harvest in almsgiving. Every sacrifice helps, though. 

I am convinced that one of the best small sacrifices one can offer during this time is the sacrifice of cheerfulness. Yes! It's natural to be cheerful at Easter, but it's easy to give ourselves a pass during Lent. After all, we need to grit our teeth in order to tighten our belts, don't we? 

No, we don't. Especially now, when all the world seems swathed in despair and every road looks like a dead end, it is a great thing, however small, to persevere in being cheerful with everyone we meet.

A word in your ear. If anyone would like to make me a Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte for Easter, I accept!