Ash Wednesday is celebrated on 5th March this year. When we bow our heads and have our foreheads briefly smeared with ash, we are reminded of our mortality. It is a humbling moment, a moment that reminds us that time is called on all of us. But for now, we have time to use well as we commemorate the journey Jesus made and prepare to travel with him through these forty days and forty nights.
When I was a little girl, Lent was a time for giving up. What it meant, in reality, was giving up the comforts of confectionery. Lent meant no lollies as my friends and I would forswear that small white paper bag crammed with ten cents’ worth of milk bottles and freckles and fruit tingles and clinkers. A mixed bag of lollies on the long walk home was heaven. A Choc Wedge was heaven on a stick.
So, giving up really meant going without or a bit of sacrifice and self-denial; a bit of discipline in not simply being able to gratify every whim. Minor mortification. The money not spent was put into the Project Compassion box on top of the ‘fridge. Although it was just lots of one and two cent coins it got quite heavy and we were proud of our effort and knew our donation might help to save a child’s life in a distant country.
We understood Lent to be a murky, melancholy time; a sombre time of not watching Gilligan’s Island and not eating meat. Fish and chips were wolfed down by seven hungry siblings on a Lenten Friday. We were imbued with it as a season of preparation and contrition as our foreheads were smudged with ash. We knew we were entering the season of Jesus’ passion and death as the statues in the chapel were draped with purple cloths. We learned about the Stations of the Cross and that last brutal journey up the Via Dolorosa to Calvary. Always, we knew that Jesus suffered as a human being. His blood, sweat and tears were real as he made the sacrifice of his life for our salvation.
On my trip to Jerusalem a few years ago, I followed these stations, stopped and prayed, and wondered what it would have been like to have been in that crowd watching as Jesus stumbled under the weight of the cross until Simon of Cyrene helped him. At Station Five, there is what is reputed to be the handprint of Jesus on the ancient wall, grooved into shape as thousands of pilgrims have touched it over the years. Station Six is opposite a market stall selling tourist trinkets. I think of the extra-biblical story of Veronica wiping the face of Jesus. Invented in the Middle Ages, this story would have rung true for so many whose hearts were wrenched as they saw Jesus in such pain.
But a crowd can be a scary thing, fickle and overwhelming, heated by contagion and irrationality, ugly. That is why Veronica’s story is so profound and important. Her heart was bigger than her fear of what others would think or do as she wiped Jesus’ rheumy eyes and bloodied face. One can only imagine what each would have felt in this most tender of human exchanges. Station Six asks us to think about what we do when faced with the suffering of others.
Today, Lent is still about prayer and fasting and donating. It is about reminding ourselves of who we are and how we can do better. When we pray our hearts are converted. They expand with a new generosity and goodness. Prayer is listening and waiting, surrendering to that heartfelt companionable silence where God joins us. We prepare and open our hearts to what will come.
Meanwhile, there are things we can stop doing when we admit that they steal and sully the grace with which we are trying to live our lives. This is the fasting or giving up of the Lenten season. They may be the small mean thoughts or actions, the grudges or exclusions, the deliberate misunderstanding, the me-me-me that can get in the way of compassion and empathy for others. We might also forgo the morning latte, the KitKat or another foody indulgence and put a few dollars into the Project Compassion or charity box, donate online or do the winter walk that is being promoted by Caritas this year.
I read with sadness of veteran broadcaster Philip Brady’s death a few days ago and the fact that in 1958 before his long career in local media, he gave up watching TV for Lent. My mother, Barbara from Mornington, was one of his late-night listeners on 3AW and in his cheerful way he gave comfort and constancy to many. Pope Francis, too, gave up watching TV in 1990, although not for Lent, but in response to the soul-destroying sordidness of what was being broadcast on a commercial sports channel. He no longer watches his beloved Buenos Aires soccer team, San Lorenzo, but a Swiss Guard leaves the stats and scores on his desk so he can still follow their fortunes. (I am sure this act of denial would be beyond most Melburnians whose love of their football teams is another form of devotion).
So, we can make changes at any time, but Lent adds a particular focus for us as Christians as we contemplate the journey Jesus will take. We can fast from the frenzy that often seems to be the way of life now, taking time to pause, pray and recalibrate spiritually, renewing some of the grace we lose when we rush around unheedingly. We can donate time or money or goods … anything that makes the world a little warmer for those in need.
Lent leads us ultimately to the Resurrection, new and eternal life, so what better way to enhance and renew our own lives than by a commitment to do and be better? Perhaps we can do a small, good thing each day, mixing it up a bit, but still focusing on the meaning of the season.
This is one way we can honour the man who loved too much; the God-Son who died so that we could live.
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Betty Rudin says:
Thanks for this Ann,a trip down Memory Lane and a signpost for Lent 2025