Lent
Wednesday, March 9, 2011 One thing I love about Chicago is its old-school Catholic vibe. It's like it's in the water here. I've secretly always wanted to be Catholic. It probably comes from being surrounded by Catholics growing up, while my parents and their friends were starting a funny little made-up church in a movie theater. I love the church community I grew up in, and I'm so inspired by their courage to make it all up according to their undertanding of what God was calling them to.
But at the same time, I've always loved the culture and the jokes and the sense of identity that go along with the Catholic tradition. Our city itself runs on a Catholic sense of identity--Friday fish fries, king cakes on Fat Tuesday, smudges on foreheads on Ash Wednesday, baptisms and first communions, the parish model in neighborhoods. I love it.
And today, the first day of Lent. People are all over the map on what kinds of things we should give up, and as is my approach to most matters of faith, I think there's more than one right answer, and that the general idea of giving something up to make space for God's presence and action is a very good impulse, no matter how you set about it.
This year I'm fasting from speaking negative words. To put it another way, if I can't say anything nice, I won't say anything at all. And I mean that as broadly as possible. And as seriously as possible.
Between now and Easter Sunday, I'm going to choose to believe that the world can keep spinning without my extremely clever and insightful take on what's wrong with this or that.
I choose to believe if I lay down my complaining, my fault-finding, my criticism, there will be space for better words--words that give life, that build up, that point out beauty instead of brokenness.
I make my living with words. I live out what I believe to be my calling with words. I don't make music or build houses or trade commodities. I make my life in words. And in the past few months, I've become more and more aware of the power of my words, especially the power to hurt and break down.
There was a situtation a few months ago that we all knew had the potential to be, in my friend Margaret's words, a hot mess. And it did turn out to be a complete, burning, smoking hot mess. A friend asked me about it, and said, "I know so-and-so would give me the short version, but I want the whole play-by-play from you." What he meant was that he knew I would give the juiciest, most detailed, most raw and indicting version of the situation. He was right. And I'm ashamed of that. I don't want that to be true of me.
I've been reading and re-reading James 3 the past few days, in preparation for Lent. At the end of the chapter, he writes, "Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water."
This is the heart of the conversation for me, and the heart of Lent this year. My mouth has been running in too many directions. My opinions abound. We give life to things when we speak them--that pattern, of course, goes back to the moment of creation, when God spoke the world into existence. We give power to the things we give words to. And I've been giving power to way too many of the wrong things.
For the next forty days, it's my task and my privilege to reclaim my words, to use them only for good, only to build up, only to connect instead of divide.
And you? Are you making a commitment for Lent? Why did you choose what you chose?
Grace and peace to you, on this Ash Wednesday. If you participate in Lent, may you find that an old tradition brings you new life. That, I think, is the point.





Reader Comments (15)
i have not thought about Lent much this year - i think instead of giving up something, i will instead give in to something. for some time now i've wanted to go back and re-read the bible, beginning to end, from one of my old "school bibles" with all the footnotes and such. today seems like a good day to begin that habit, yes? make room for god by giving in.
I'm giving up perfection. I've failed at it for 29 years.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen.
I was reminded during my study this morning in the book of Isaiah how powerful words are. Women use 20,000 words a day (some of us more). the question was asked...how are you using your 20,000 words? Ouch! You have inspired me to be intentional about saying only positive things this lenten season...maybe it will stick beyond that. My only hesitation is I will probably fail. Lord help me!
blessings to you!
But in reading your post today, and especially after reflecting on the passage from James, I realize that I need to do more than just give up complaining about my boss. I need to change myself from the inside, too. I won't just keep negative words in my head and out of my mouth, I'll strive to keep them out of my mind at all. i need a new approach to thinking, and I know that Lent is just the time to do that.
Thanks for your wise words, Shauna.
I'm not Catholic, either, but most years I either give something up or add something. This year, however, I'm having some trouble focusing on what to do. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I'm just not feeling particularly pulled in any way.
You have no idea how much I needed to hear this... And that's how I know that these words are God-given. Thank you for responding to the conviction to write them. Sometimes I need to be reminded that although He accepts me just the way I am (sarcasm and all), He loves me too much to let me stay this way. :)