photo credit: anaivette
I don’t talk that much about Lent, for one of two reasons, and a third, extra spiritual bonus reason.
If I do share about how I plan to practice, experience, or engage with my faith during Lent, I’m invariably asked if I’m Catholic. No. I’m not Catholic. And I don’t think Catholics own Lent, nor do I think my Catholic friends would suggest so.
Which brings me to my second reason I don’t talk a lot about Lent. If I happen to mention Lent, and I happen to be asked if I’m Catholic, I find myself donning an invisible preacher’s robe, clearing my throat and my thoughts so I can explain to my inquisitor what Lent is, why I think it’s an important part of the Crucifixion story, and why I plan to mark it with certain behaviors.
The last thing my inquisitor wants is a short homily on church history and its wacky calendar. She just wanted to know if I was Catholic, and she was probably just being polite anyway. Poor kid.
My third, extra-spiritual reason is that to me, it’s private, and quiet, solemn and you know, sort of …dare I say…holy. I want to protect my experience, and my relationships, during Lent. I know many people talk about what they’re giving up and how hard it is. I have no problem with this. Do as you see fit. It’s not my cup of coconut cake.
In the coming weeks, you’ll be reading Lenten Reflections from some of my favorite online writer friends. I asked only women to share this year, and I gave them very few parameters. I asked them to choose a portion of Scripture and to write about it. Not a devotional per se, because I tend to feel like devotionals miss all the big important stuff, or try to make me respond to text in a certain way, and I hate being told what to think and how to respond.
I hope two things will happen. I hope you will meet some new and talented writers, and I hope you will be encouraged. It’s not too early to start thinking about, since Fat Tuesday is but a week away.