Exploring thoughts with purpose ℠
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.
– Jesus speaking in Matthew 5:14-16
Many recognize the practice of “giving something up for Lent” and use it as an opportunity to better themselves or their habits. Do you perhaps have an addiction to Oreo cookies or Doritos chips? Maybe you read a lot of drivel and it’s souring your life? Are your daily habits what they should be for you to be your ideal self, or is there one you want to subtract or add to get there?
If you want to start one habit this year to better yourself, Lent is the best opportunity: it’s an open invitation to unity with others by “offering up” something. The practice includes giving up a certain kind of food (the cliché being chocolate), quitting a bad habit (such as smoking or drinking), or starting a new habit (such as running every morning or praying every evening). This can be used any number of ways; the key thing is that whatever your Lenten practice is, it should draw you closer to God.
As a lay Catholic, I practice the Lenten preparation for Easter every year. Some years the habit sticks better than others. (I gave up cursing in three distinct Lenten seasons, for example.) Some years are more ambitious than others. (The first time I gave up my foul mouth I was in undergrad and surrounded by people who actively prodded me to not keep that practice; the third time, my circles were more supportive.) Some years are about adding things in (like a daily morning swim routine or a nightly walk). What I do changes every year, yet every year it’s something to bring me closer to God.
This practice is called the Lenten sacrifice. Many of us go to one end or the other of the intensity spectrum, either going all out because only the most difficult task will suffice or sliding by with the least amount of effort but it still counting. I have fallen prey to each of these practices generally as a result of thinking I have to prove my Catholic-ness. However, being the most hardcore isn’t the point, nor is checking some box on the list.
The word sacrifice is derived from two old Latin terms: “sacer” and “faciō.” Sacer means sacred or holy; faciō means to do or to make. Combined, it becomes sacrificō and has a literal translation of doing for the Holy One. Thus, a sacrifice doesn’t have to be tremendously strenuous, and a Lenten sacrifice isn’t about checking all the boxes. It’s simply doing something, big or small, to offer to God.
In that same vein, God doesn’t want us to suffer. He welcomes all of our offerings – whether they are painful trials and tribulations or inviting Him to spend an evening with us while we spend time with friends. Sacrifices can take many forms. As long as we are offering something to the Holy One, it constitutes a sacrifice. Every time we stumble, literally or figuratively, if we give that to God, it’s a sacrifice. Every time we smile or laugh, if we give that to God, it’s a sacrifice. Every time we bake a cake or watch movies with friends or spend time with family, if we give that to God, it’s a sacrifice.
See the theme here?
So long as we offer something to God, we are making a sacrifice. The reason this practice is so much at the forefront during Lent is because we are preparing for Easter, the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus. As we continue through Lent, we draw nearer the day of the Resurrection, and as we draw nearer the day of the Resurrection, the more focused we should be on God. What better way to become more focused on God than to think of Him every time we do a specific thing that we are doing for Him?
This is also why we try to offer a Lenten sacrifice that affects us at least daily: it gives us a prime opportunity to frequently focus on Christ. It doesn’t have to be particularly onerous or dreadful or troublesome; it just has to be something that causes us to look to God. Maybe we look to God for strength in finishing a run while training for a marathon; maybe we focus on Him in thanksgiving for five minutes of peace during a hectic week. The result is the same: time spent walking with Christ. This is what the Lenten sacrifice is about.
Are you doing a Lenten sacrifice? How does it draw you nearer to the Holy One?
Is that a thing?
I’ve been wishing people a cheerful “Happy Ash Wednesday!” all day. I mean it, I feel it, and I truly want today to be a happy one, yet at the same time, every time I’ve said it, I’ve wondered if that’s a proper greeting for today. It simply seems out of place, perhaps even off. We’re kicking off the season of Lent, many of us fighting incessant tummy rumblings before it’s even socially acceptable to admit as much; what could possibly be happy about that?
Easter is it’s own (post-Lent) season; the question is, what reason is there to be happy about Lent?
Two words:
(1) Progress
(2) Mine
The concept is simple, but it requires some reading into the season to understand how it applies. Lent is a season of repentance, of turning away from sin (anything that takes us away from God), so that we may more clearly focus on God. We seek to better seek God in our lives; sometimes we do this by deleting negative attachments and/or adding God-focused habits. The goal of Lent is to choose God over worldly pleasures, comforts, and other temptations.
(That’s not to say that these things are bad; they might be quite good. For example, it is good to have a nice bed to sleep in that supports you so you can sleep well and better serve people come the new day. This bed certainly counts as a worldly comfort, but there’s nothing inherently sinful about it.)
Over the course of Lent, we should find ourselves nearing God. Now, that’s a necessarily relative term because we are all starting from different places, but it is simultaneously objective because we are only measuring against ourselves. Specifically, if I move ten paces, we can measure whether I ended up closer to or, alternatively, farther away from God. There is a key element missing here for us to take that leap.
We need to know where we are.
Lent is a time for self-assessment. We determine who we are and where we are on our journey of faith so we can figure out the next step to take us closer to God. Introspectively assessing ourselves enables us to move forward by allowing us to orient ourselves; in determining our current location, we can see a little more clearly how to get where we’re headed. Being able to see the path strengthens us to take it, even when the road isn’t easy.
Specific to Ash Wednesday (happy today!) is this particular word: mine. It’s not normally what I think of when I think of Ash Wednesday, and I’ll keep it brief because I recommend watching Father Mike Schmitz’s video for more information on this point.
On Ash Wednesday, we get ashes smeared on our foreheads in a very particular way. The ashes symbolize what we are – ashes and dust, creatures made by God. In the grand scheme of things, if we zoom out on time and assess the value of all of humanity over the course of eternity, that value is, approximately, nil. Nothing. In the grand scheme of things, we don’t really matter. Except: Jesus.
The ashes go on our forehead as a cross. This is Jesus claiming us as his own by marking us with the sign of the war He waged for our hearts on Calvary. That cross of ashes says two things: we are nothing, and yet God wants nothing more than our hearts. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you so much that He lived, died, and rose from the dead to claim you as His own knowing full well that you weren’t going to be perfect and knowing full well that He will love you through your imperfections. That is the message of today, and that is certainly worth celebrating.
Happy Ash Wednesday.
Dancing and eating and partying and eating and drinking and more eating and reveling and even more eating… Maybe even catching some beads here and there….
How are you celebrating Fat Tuesday?
That’s the translation, French to English: mardi is Tuesday and gras is fat. Certainly one of the most descriptive names, although not one of the most inspiring. (One of the many reasons some New Orleanians prefer to use the term Carnival.) You might be thinking, What an odd name; why would anyone call a celebration a fat day?
Quite plainly, it’s crunch time for fattening up in preparation for the Lenten season (otherwise simply known as Lent). During Lent, people prepare for Easter. This starts with fasting from all the pleasures in our lives that draw our attention away from God. The goal is to be laser-focused on God, His goodness, His mercy, and His love, by the time of the Resurrection at the Easter Vigil.
Part and parcel to that is not eating as much. Traditionally, the faithful fast throughout Lent as part of the practice of Lenten preparations for Easter. To prepare for the time of fasting, we eat up so we don’t wither away. Logistically, it makes sense… though the practice has clearly gotten a bit beyond that. Now Mardi Gras is celebrated as a holiday all its own, with specific foods and revelry (and debauchery, but that is easily avoided).
New Orleans is known for having the best Mardi Gras celebrations Stateside. People come from all over the world to party in the streets, catch the throws (beads, shoes, painted coconut shells), and generally laissez les bons temps rouler in whatever way that means to the reveler. I can vouch: the celebrations last for weeks, the city is crowded with tourists, school children get a vacation week, workers get time off (and use it to avoid touristy areas), and it’s the most relaxed chaos I could ever imagine. By now, the early afternoon of Mardi Gras day, all the parades are over and most locals are winding down with family festivities in their own homes. (Meanwhile, tourists are probably drinking up everything they can in the French Quarter from Bourbon Street to Café du Monde.)
(Sidenote: if you want pro tips on visiting The Big Easy, reach out to me. I know where the best po’ boys [local sandwiches] are, which spots are worth a visit in the French Quarter, the best snowball spots in the city, and how to prepare for an awesome time. If you’d like a tour guide, also feel free to touch base – I’d love the excuse to go back!)
The point is, today is a day for taking it all in to enable us to make it through the upcoming battles. (Lent is effectively the season set aside for us to wage a war with our demons so that we can focus on God, so it’s a battle. Charge!) In honor of the day, and in preparation for tomorrow, I’m cleaning out my fridge. I somewhat started early as I’ve been cleaning out my pantry for the last couple of weeks, but today the target is merely the fridge; I have a lot of leftovers from an event this weekend, and all of them are getting eaten today.
I’m also using today as an excuse to reconnect with friends, including those who love the celebration, those who love to hide away from it, and those who have no idea that today is Mardi Gras. (Fun holidays like today make exceptional excuses to reach out to just about anybody.) It’s also been a relatively quiet day of introspection: how do I want to better myself, what goals am I pursuing and how can I pursue them better, and how can I make the most of this Lenten journey?
I’ll tell you more about my plans for Lent on Thursday. Today, I have a few more hours of revelry. (For me, it’s much more low key than attempting to navigate the streets of the French Quarter on a night like tonight.) I’m even thinking of stopping at a Dairy Queen for a Blizzard treat as the ultimate mid-winter indulgence. (After that wonderful salad, I may be too full even for such a treat. I would probably make room for a drive-thru daiquiri if I were in Metairie, though. Priorities!) Amidst everything else, I’m already making plans for the future.
Next year, I’m making a king cake.
How about you? How did you celebrate Mardi Gras today? What are you looking forward to this Lent? Where do you plan to be come Easter day? How are you going to springboard from today to get there?
Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
– Martin Luther King, Jr., I Have a Dream speech (transcript)
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protests to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
This tradition of writing on the wall signifies an open invitation to Jesus to be a daily guest in our homes and in our hearts as we go about our busy lives. The chalk will fade over time; may the meaning of the message to sink into our hearts, bearing fruit in our thoughts, words, and actions.
Have you heard of this Epiphany tradition?
It was news to me when I saw the home blessing kits at the rear of the chapel yesterday morning. Brows furrowed, grin mildly contorted toward a smirk, I picked up one of the bags with a small piece of chalk and a paper folded up inside. “This is interesting,” I thought, quickly followed by, “if I don’t use it, I can bring it back tomorrow.”
I had no clue as to what I was taking with me. It wasn’t a book or a pamphlet, wasn’t a rosary or a prayer card, so I was slightly confused and almost not trusting of it. It was out of the ordinary, so it was as though I needed to justify my curiosity in it.
Curiosity well spent.
I enjoy actively participating in the Faith. Even more so, I thoroughly enjoy learning interesting information while I’m actively participating. There’s a childlike giddiness that comes from growing in the Faith. Throw in a hint of apparent rebellion and I totally want in. These little kits were perfect to satisfy just such a hunger.
Arriving back in my room, I put the little kit down and walked away to get work done. A couple of hours later, I hit a natural pause. Looking up, I again felt my face contort into a playful grin as I caught sight of it. Walking over, I opened the bag, read the little note, fetched a step-stool, and chalked my door.
What is this exciting tradition, you ask? What do those letters and numbers mean? Why would I write anything on the wall?
First of all, writing on the wall is mutinously fun. It’s seriously exhilarating. At one point, I giggled like a schoolgirl getting away with a prank. Then my adult self kicked in and I thought, “How am I going to fix this?” My logical brain retorted, “Wipe it off with a damp cloth.” And I chuckled triumphantly to myself as though I’d discovered the biggest discovery ever to be discovered by a discoverer.
My reactions to this whole tradition are childlike silliness and fun. Will you join me in the fun?
You may want to know the symbolism before committing to anything. I get that. In fact, I applaud that. Go you. Check it out:
While marking the doorway, speak the following:
The Word became flesh and made His dwelling place among us.
It is Christ who enlightens our hearts and homes with His love.
May all who enter this home find Christ’s light and love.
May Christ bless our home and remain with us throughout the new year.
Amen.
After marking the door, there’s a prayer to offer. This can be done silently or aloud:
Visit, O blessed Lord, this home with the gladness of Your presence.
Bless all who live or visit here with the gift of Your love, and grant that we may manifest Your love to each other and to all whose lives we touch.
May we grow in grace and in the knowledge and love of you.
Guide, comfort, and strengthen us in peace, O Jesus Christ, now and forever.
Amen.
Have you ever done this before? Did you just discover this discovery and want to try it out? Do you have any other Epiphany traditions?
Benedic Christus nos!
Happy New Year!
I hope you kicked off 2020 in your favorite way and are looking forward to everything the new decade has in store!
We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.
– Edith Lovejoy Pierce, In This Our Day
What are you most looking forward to this year? I wrote out my hopes and dreams as part of a self-reflection and forward-thinking project, complete with timelines of when I want to do them by. Last year included learning more about the virtues so I can try to live by them better, journaling, increasing my courage, re-learning French, and taking a hand-to-hand self-defense class. Some goals were met, though I still have room to grow.
This year includes learning to fence, learning to ballroom dance, joining a sailing club, finishing writing (rough draft) a series of novels I’ve been working on, and visiting Dublin.
My first reaction to writing that last sentence: that’s a tall order. Look at all that stuff! How can I expect to get all that done while also doing the normal things in life: working, balancing a budget, blossoming my relationships, and working toward other, more logical long-term goals?
But the point of this list isn’t to bog myself down. A hopes and dreams list is a tool to encourage us to rise up to meet our challenges. Yes, there are other things I need to do daily, and there’s only so much time in a day, but if I crowd out time wastes, I can do great things. And so can you!
You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.
– Les Brown, Live Your Dreams
Our time on Earth is finite; time is the limiting reagent of the reaction of our lives. It stands to reason, then, that our highest priorities should get the most time from us. But what are our priorities? Without knowing our priorities, we can’t prioritize them. Making a dream list demands that we pause to think about what our priorities are. A dream list helps us focus on our priorities and reach for our dreams with purpose and gusto.
So, I may not complete all of my goals for 2020, but if 2019 is any indication, just having the list for reference helps me move in a positive direction. I reference it when I’m unsure which actions to take: reminding myself of what I want helps me to get there because I can make my decisions to further my goals.
Do you have a dream list? What are your priorities? What do you hope to accomplish this year and how are you going to meet those goals?
Happy New Year’s Eve!
Do you have any New Year’s Eve traditions? When did they start? Do you do something new every year? Have you tried several things and you’re trying to figure out the best way to bring in the ball drop? Or do you prefer to be asleep by midnight?
I’m doing something different this year: I have never been out for New Year’s Eve … unless you count the grocery store for a chip run. Today, we’re going to a diner, then going to a pub with a live band. I’m nervous.
It’s exciting to be a little nervous about something that you haven’t done before or haven’t done in a long time. I can remember the last time I was out after dinnertime: about two months ago, I met up with a friend for some hot cocoa. (That was both fabulous and nervewracking for me. It’s also the only time I can remember being out after dinner since school.)
My friend calling to tell me the plan for the evening was beyond thrilled at going out and enjoying a live band for New Year’s Eve. It’s the perfect venue – she has many great memories from there already – with awesome specials and a live band. Again, she emphasized, there’s gonna be a live band.
Can you tell she’s excited about this band?
I look forward to tonight; it’ll be fun to get out of my comfort zone. It’ll also be fun to dress up and make new friends – which is going to happen because we’re going to be there for several hours. I am excited for what the night may bring. I’m nervous through and through, but I’m excited, too.
How about you? When’s the last time you tested your comfort zone boundaries? Have you given any strangers unexpected compliments or encouragement? Have you traveled a different route to or from one of your favorite hangouts? Have you tried (gasp!) bar shampoo and conditioner? (That seemed crazy to me before I tried it.) What have you done recently that’s been outside of your norm?
And how has it gone? I’m a fan of experimenting; where’s the data? Will you try it again, or is that something you’d rather avoid? What would you change to make it more you? How would you change you to rise to a challenge the experiment presents, or to be more of what you want to be? That is, after all, the point of a resolution: to inch closer to being your best you.
Cheers to that, and happy New Year! :-}
Christmas time is here!
– Lee Mendelson, Christmas Time is Here, A Charlie Brown Christmas
Happiness and cheer.
Fun for all that children call
Their favorite time of the year.
It’s Christmastide!
We’re halfway through the octave of Christmas: the eight days set aside to sincerely celebrate Christmas starting on Christmas day and going straight through the Solemnity of Jesus’s mother Mary on January 1st. Then there are another four days to round out the twelve days of Christmas, the Epiphany (on January 6th) marking the thirteenth day, and the Baptism of the Lord (January 9th) closing out the season on the current calendar. But if you’re still not done with the Christmas season, just go by the old calendar to extend the season until the fortieth day: Candlemas, the Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple (February 2nd).
How do you celebrate Christmastide? I didn’t even know this was really a thing – though I’m one to say the tree stays up through at least the Epiphany. There are several resources offering ideas about what to do to celebrate throughout the season. Do you have any Christmastide traditions? Do you carol after Christmas, or make certain foods to celebrate the whole season? What’s your favorite Christmas season tradition?
What are your favorite holiday traditions? What really makes a trip home for you? (Maybe those are two different questions, or maybe they’re one and the same.)
I’ve heard the traditional Christmas meal includes ham; I imagine it as a spiral-cut honey-glazed bone-in ham, baked to slightly crisp the brown sugar topping. For some, the real staple is homemade mac’n’cheese with mouthwatering sauce and a delicious buttery-crumb topping. What is your favorite holiday staple?
We had a simple roast for dinner, sides including baked potatoes, pan-fried vegetables, and mashed turnip. Turnip is one of my Dad’s favorite vegetables. Clearly, which vegetables you like and dislike isn’t an inherited trait: he loves turnip, my Mom loves asparagus, and I’d much rather steamed broccoli. But I digress.
Tonight, we had a much more iconic meal: thin spaghetti and Mom’s famous meat sauce. While I’d prefer regular spaghetti, no sauce matches Mom’s. For about a half-gallon of tomato base, she adds two pounds of breakfast sausage and two pounds of hamburger. It’s amazing. Best served with garlic bread – or garlic crescent rolls.
Still, even the best dinner doesn’t make the trip home. It certainly adds to the experience, but it’s not definitive. Neither is the five-hour drive up, the pit stop an hour out, or the crawling up the stairs by the end of the first day looking forward to sharing the bed with a cat that tunnels under the covers. These are all incidentals to a homecoming for me, but none of them are that special something.
If none of these define it, what does make a trip home?