IN LITTLE WAYS
How’s your Lent going? Mine’s been … unexpected. My plan was to refrain from sweets and donate money to a food-focused charity. I would read up on hunger issues and attend at least one extra worship service a week.
I give myself a B- on sweets. I haven’t had dessert or forbidden snacks. However, I spend way too much time on legalistic debates, like whether raisin bran is a sweet. I’m also way too proud of my teensy weensy sacrifice. I find myself thinking God owes me big time for 40 days without chocolate.
I’m barely getting a C in researching hunger. My primary resource is the Internet. I start out googling “hunger in Hawaii,” but then I see that Kanye West has a strange new tweet, or Donald Trump has said something outrageous. Next thing I know, an hour’s passed. I’m up to date on celebrity gossip but no wiser about why the richest country on earth can’t feed all its citizens.
Worst of all, I’m flunking worship. I haven’t been to weekday Mass. I haven’t always made Sunday Mass. I’m not feeling well and am spending a lot of time in bed. I didn’t even make Ash Wednesday services. How can it be a real Lent without ashes? Nor am I spending much extra time in prayer. My mind feels like mush, so mostly I read and play computer solitaire. Not exactly a traditional Lenten regime.
However, I recall that Christian author Charles Williams said we should build the altar but be aware that God may send the fire somewhere else. Our spiritual disciplines are ways of opening our hearts to the work of the Holy Spirit. The results can be unexpected. I committed to a Lent of study, prayer and Christian fellowship. Instead, God invites me to find him in fatigue, pain and discouragement.
I’m also inspired by a high school friend who is dying of cancer. She has devoted her life to teaching mindfulness. This is the practice, drawn from Buddhism, of accepting and appreciating what is happening right now. She can barely walk, so she explores the pleasures of sitting still. She is no longer independent, so she’s enjoying her hospice workers. She reminds me that God is just as present in my bedroom as in my parish church.
What is Lent for anyway? To know God better and serve him more generously by serving others. The church gives us techniques such as Stations of the Cross and fasting. Whether these techniques are effective depends to some extent on our attitude. Mostly, though, it’s up to God. The most rigorous Lenten discipline can’t compel God to reveal himself. Recall, for example, that Mother Teresa served the poor for decades without feeling God’s presence.
The success of our Lent, and of our spiritual life in general, depends on God’s grace and mercy, not our favorite religious practices. Fortunately, God is astonishingly generous. I think we fail to receive many of the gifts he offers because they come in unfamiliar packages. For example, I was not initially thrilled to be my mother-in-law’s caregiver in her last years. I, though, now recall that time as one of great blessings.
Too often I look at my circumstances and see only obstacles to prayer and service. But God knows my situation, and he shows me through the saints that there are numerous ways to serve him, even while lying in bed. God knows our hearts. He rewards even our weakest efforts to draw closer. If we love him and trust in his mercy, we can’t possibly fail Lent — or life.
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo 96720, or email: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
