(A reflection written for tonight's Bible Study)
Think about Lent. Ashes. Sackcloth. Penance. Fasting.
Suffering. Think about Valentine’s Day. Pink hearts. Declarations of love.
Hallmark cards. Roses. Chocolate. So what happens when you combine the images
of the latter with the images of the former? Chaos, commotion, and
contradiction, right? Well, it doesn’t have to be. In fact, it shouldn’t be.
“As the Father has loved me, so have I
loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as
I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have
spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. This
is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no man than this, that a
man lay down his life for his friends.” John 15: 9-13 (emphasis added)
Here Christ unites two ideas that
modern culture would have us believe are mutually exclusive: love and
suffering. Valentine’s Day and Lent. Given our basic understandings of each of
these things, this fusion of events is impossible. Our understanding of love emphasizes
happiness. Our understanding of Lent emphasizes sorrow. This is a problem, but
only as long as we misunderstand Lent and Love.
What is
Lent?
If you ask your average Catholic
why Lent is observed, the answer will likely be something to the effect of,
“repentance and penance.” While true, this only gets at the way we achieve the purpose of the
season. Lent is observed for one reason: to bring us closer to God. Given the
common understanding that God is
love, how can we hope to be united with Him if we are estranged from love? One
essential thing we must learn during this season is how to love and to be loved.
This doesn’t mean that Lent
shouldn’t be penitential. We are sinners who must repent of our sins. But why do we repent? The act of contrition
summarizes it nicely: “I detest my sins because of your just punishment, but
most of all because they offend thee, O God, who are all good and deserving of
all of my love.” We strive to achieve closer union with God by acts of self-sacrifice,
such as fasting and abstinence. We do not do these things for their own sakes,
however. We do these things so that we might become less attached to ourselves
and more attached to God. It’s about the other Person. It’s for the other Person. As soon as our
Lent is separated from love (and therefore joy), we have missed the point.
I’m not saying that we should all
be skipping and singing about the wonders of repentance for its own sake. No, no, no. Repentance is not something we should
do just for the sake of repenting. It is a tool. We, as humans, have a tendency
to get stuck on ourselves. Our thoughts and actions center around “me, myself,
and I.” Sacrifice and penance are to help us reprioritize. We remove or make
uncomfortable the things that take God’s place in our lives so that we will
have the opportunity to fill that space in our lives with God. We repent to be
rid of the bad thing and to grasp the good thing. That approach to and grasping
of the good thing is what should make us joyful.
We have difficulty seeing past what we’re doing and forget to focus on why we are doing it. This is due to our
animal natures. A dog does not discern why
it eats, only that it eats. We share
this tendency with the dogs, but we don’t have to get stuck there. We eat
because we enjoy food, sure, but the real reason is to be nourished so that we
will continue to live. We can know
that, unlike the dog, who simply experiences
it. Our rationality – the part of us that is created in the image and likeness
of God – allows us to grasp a bigger picture. We can, in a very limited way,
step outside of time and see the whole.
This ability allows us to ask “why?”
about suffering and sacrifice. The reason I put aside my own good now is for my
own good later, or for another’s good. I can know and understand that Lent is
not all there is to life. Lent is for
Easter. It’s like planting a seed in the empty soil, in hope of a flower
blooming. There is suffering and emptiness so that there might be a celebration
of real joy and fulfillment.
This joy comes from union with
God, who is love. How do we reach this union with Love? We don’t reach Love by
hate, despair, or selfishness. Love comes from love. So if the goal of Lent is love, shouldn’t we be focusing on love
all the way through? Pope Benedict XVI wrote, “As the
objects of God's love, men and women become subjects of charity, they are
called to make themselves instruments of grace, so as to pour forth God's
charity and to weave networks of charity.” (Caritas
in Veritate)
We have been given love. Grace,
simply put, is God’s love. Our movement to repentance is, in itself, a gift of
grace. By loving us, God helps us to come to love Him. Since we have this love, we are called to give it back, not only to
God, but to each other.
What is
love?
“I love you.” These three words
can mean so much. Hallmark sells them for a couple of dollars, but real love
cannot be bought or expressed in a greeting card. Real love must be lived. Real love is hard.
Nothing can bring us greater joy
than the love of another person. The funny thing about joy, however, is that
the greater joy you have, the more suffering you can have. It may seem like an
obvious statement, but the higher you climb, the harder you’ll fall. And we’ll
fall. Because of our human condition, love always, always involves suffering. A human being cannot consistently love another person. Inevitably, someone we
love will hurt us or we will hurt those we love. It may be a lasting
estrangement. It may only be for a moment. But it will happen.
We can react a couple of ways to
this fact. We can live our lives fearing love because of the pain that is
inevitable. Or we can love anyway, accepting that we will occasionally fail. To
do this, we must be willing to forgive and ask forgiveness. In order that we
might avoid failures, we must be willing to sacrifice.
No two people are always going to agree on every single thing. Sometimes we
will have to give up our own opinions or preferences for the good of another
person. We must die to ourselves – put another’s wants and needs before our own
– in order to really love another person. There is no room for selfishness in
love. Your sacrifice may not involve a matter of life or death, but every
sacrifice can be a gift of self. We do not sacrifice for the sake of
sacrificing, but to achieve a greater good. We sacrifice so that we may have
the joy that comes with love. Sacrifice
is for Love.
Love doesn’t calculate or
complain. It simply loves. As Shakespeare says, “[Love] looks on tempests and
is never shaken.” (Sonnet 116) This is something that is beyond our natural,
human capacity. Our human nature calculates
and complains. Our human nature fears pain, whether it is emotional or
physical. We need to let go of our human weaknesses if we are going to be able
to love and to be loved, without question or qualification. This requires
grace. We need to accept grace. We need to accept God’s love.
Lenten
Love
With these things in mind,
Valentine’s Day in Lent is not a contradiction, but a fitting combination. This
Lent, we can focus on love and
sacrifice and the mystery of their union. As St. Gianna said, "Love
and sacrifice are closely linked, like the sun and the light. We cannot love
without suffering and we cannot suffer without love."
We have to die to ourselves this Lent. We have to lay down
our lives for our friends. This does not have to be literal, bloody martyrdom.
This can be “white martyrdom” – dying to our desires and our wishes daily. We
do this so we can practice loving. Our love won’t be perfect. Nothing about
human beings is perfect. Only God can love us perfectly. If we try to love
others as Christ loves us, we can try to reach that same perfection. We will
fail. We will fall. We will repent. Over and over again. But we have to try.
Lent is for Easter. Sacrifice is for Love. Lent is for Love.
1 comment:
This is sooooo great, Bridget, even a few days late.
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