Ashes, ashes, we all fall down
When I was in sixth grade, in Mrs. Sims’s class, I remember David Elmore talking about what his father chose to give up for Lent. Mrs. Sims had asked which kids observed Lent, about which I knew nothing. David said with a grin that his father always gave up watermelon. Mrs. Sims remarked, “But that’s not in season now,” and David said, “That’s why he gives it up!” And several students laughed. I always felt left out on religious topics, often because I didn’t know it was religion they were talking about, and I didn’t practice any.
I guess my mom, Lynne, (I think I told you her lapsed Catholic story) explained Lent to me when I got home and asked her. It represents the forty days Jesus Christ wandered in the desert (why?), she explained, as if I followed; and so to commemorate that, we give something up for Lent for the 40 days before Easter (which “resurrection” date is still chosen to be the first Sunday after the fourth full moon after the winter solstice/Christmas because Pagan parties rule). Okay?
I asked my mom what she gave up. “When I was a kid, I gave up candy,” she said, since back in the 1930s and ’40s, candy was a penny, so even in relative poverty, kids could usually afford an occasional candy. “But I cheated,” she said, and saved up for Smith Brothers’ Cough Drops instead. “I told myself it was medicine.”
But deep down she knew. I think about why we do these rituals of personal sacrifice when so many people around the world have to sacrifice, with no say in the matter.
When I first started practicing Lent I was in middle school, then, and I gave up Doritos. Later it was all junk food. Lucky child. In my grown years it’s been media of all kinds, but this year I don’t dare give up media as the nation’s democracy collapses daily. This year, I had no idea what to give up. I barely eat junk, or drink, or indulge in anything beyond sleep. I thought I’d give up sloth trying to exercise more.
As if in answer to my dilemma, my friend Tom sent me a Substack this morning, which I very much recommend, because heaven knows I’m not religious, and I found it moving and intelligent and inspiring. Here’s a snippet, followed by the link:
If you feel disoriented, you are not weak.
If you feel angry, you are not unfaithful.
If you feel grief in your body, tightness in your chest, exhaustion in your bones, tears that come without warning, you are not dramatic.
You are paying attention.
And paying attention is a spiritual practice that this culture actively discourages.
Ashes in the Time of Disappearance: A Lenten Reckoning
We are entering Lent at a time when it feels like the world is unraveling in plain sight…
11 hours ago · 19 likes · 3 comments · Rev. Allison Burns-LaGreca
“We are not entering Lent with neat spiritual goals. We are entering Lent with social dis-ease lodged in our chests. With rage we don’t know what to do with. With helplessness that threatens to harden into cynicism. With the terrible knowledge that people are suffering right now, and we are implicated in systems that enable it.
“So how do we hold it all at once?
“First, we stop pretending that spiritual discipline is separate from public life.”
There it is. So this season, I’m paying attention with my whole body, giving up fear and freezing and being utterly selfish. It’s a goal, an attempt at a practice. I wrote and called both senators today, as I do every week, but now it will be every day for 40 days. I will send money wherever it can do good. I will take walks and try to engage more. I’m trying to be of use.
To be of use, should that interest you where our democratic republic is concerned, you might consider doing some Lenten lifting, if you aren’t already, which I know you are. Here’s something to know, by the way, about the SAVE Act (from poet Robert Arnold), which act you absolutely should want to stop, though ironically it will hurt Republican women the most.
There’s much to do. Gather your strength. Have a cough drop.
Now get to work.
The Miss O' Show (Teacher's Edition) 