Lent

There's a part of me that's always wished I was Catholic.

The tradition and liturgy calls out to me and comforts me with its repetitive ripples. I want to wrap myself in the warm reassurance of the Mass and the continual surges of spirit that come with the habits encouraged by the traditionalistic denominations.

Sometimes after I pray, hands facing up, rocking back and forth, I want more closure than just our "In Jesus name, Amen".

On Sunday we had communion and I loved the way we did it. The men stood up front, one with bread and one with wine. We went to them,broke a piece of bread off and dipped it in the cup. The men spoke in kind low voices: "The body of Christ, broken for you," and "The blood of Christ, shed for you." I took mine, whispered, "Amen," and partook of my sacrament. I crossed myself.

I didn't mean to. It just happened. It was a sign to myself, I suppose, that I remembered the reason that the Passover Lamb was slaughtered, its blood painted across the doors of our houses, and on our bodies.

Ephesians talks about being "stamped" with the sign of God and it conjures pictures of the mark of the Beast- those stamped by God can't take the Beast's stamp.

Today is Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday. It's traditionally a Catholic party day to get all your sinning in before Lent starts tomorrow and you have to be good for forty days. Ash Wednesday is the beginning of the season of penitence and meditation before Easter.

It's customary to give something up during Lent- chocolate or caffeine or meat. I've done all that. Meat, I think, was the hardest. I'm not a hard-core carnivore, but I like it enough that not eating it for a month wasn't easy.

This year, I'm taking a step up. I'm fasting from books. I can't imagine going a month or more without reading. It's not just my fallback activity. It's my life. I'm an avid learner. To stop learning, for me, is to die. Reading is the way I learn. I'm not giving up my Bible. It's going to be my sole reading material (aside from email) for the month. We'll see how it goes.

Giving something up for Lent doesn't make you a better Christian. It doesn't get you another jewel in your crown or score you points with God. It's a personal discipline, a tiny return on Christ's sacrifice. I try to do something different every year- pieces of my living sacrifice that I remind myself I must crucify to Jesus every day. If I fail, no one will know but God and I.

Our relationship is not defined by my success or failure during Lent but it is enhanced when, every time I look at one of my books, I pray for strength and smile, knowing that God is bigger than my Will.