ASH WEDNESDAY! LENT BEGINS AROUND THE WORLD! So reads today’s headline on the Huffington Post website (well, all right: I added the exclamation points).
As I read those words this morning, I was immediately transported back to my childhood, when Lent really was as important in my life as the headline would make it seem, when Ash Wednesday was a truly unique day, the beginning of a sacred time.
As regular readers of this blog know, I grew up in a devout Catholic household, but one that managed to avoid the guilt and severity some lapsed Catholics complain about. My family’s Catholicism was rule-abiding, but cheerful and festive. Even Lent—that yearly period of fasting and repentence—never felt bleak or dismal to me. What it felt, rather, was quiet and thoughtful.
According to the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus spent 40 days fasting in the desert, where he fought Satan’s constant badgering. So, it seemed fitting to my child self to spend the same period being strong and disciplined. We didn’t have a desert to walk in, but we could make our lives a little desert-like by removing the distractions and amusements, by living a bit more simply. We could mimic Christ’s spiritual discipline by promising to give up something we enjoyed and steadfastly keeping those promises. We could show our devotion by attending Stations of the Cross on Friday nights, and by saying extra prayers. These practices—the fasting, the giving up, the rituals and prayers—weren’t about suffering and shame. They were about strength and self-control, restraint and moderation. And they were important spiritual teachers.
During Lent, we recalled the fundamental truth of our existence. That this life is just a way station. That our bodies are temporary. We marked the beginning of our 40-day journey with a visit to church, where ashes were placed on our foreheads as the priest recited a verse from Genesis 3:19: Remember that thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return. Just as Zen monks sometimes meditate in graveyards to help keep themselves mindful of impermanence, so we began Lent with this all-important reminder Nothing puts life in perspective better than remembering that we are going to die.
Even though I left the Catholic Church at the threshold of adolescence, I didn’t throw everything it gave me overboard. There is much I owe those early religious experiences: They shaped my spiritual life in profound, indelible ways. One of those ways is a belief in the value of Lent. So, even though I no longer believe in the core teachings of the Church, and even though I will not have ash placed on my forehead today, I am still thinking of ways to observe Lent. I intend to make this Lenten period a time of mindfulness and meditation. A time to remember the impermanence of existence. A time to strengthen and renew my spiritual practice.