Fat Tuesday and the Good of Created Things

( This post was originally published on Peace and Pekoe on February 28, 2017)

It says something interesting about Catholic culture that Pancake Tuesday and Shrove Tuesday sit comfortably alongside each other as alternate names for the same day. Indulgence and confession, enjoyment and penitence, on a single day of the calendar.

“Shrove” and “Shrivetide” refer to the practice of using the time immediately before Lent to examine one’s conscience and attend confession. In Catholic England (carrying over into Anglican England), the Shrive bells would chime in the village church to both call penitents to confession–and remind housewives and cooks to begin making pancakes to use up rich pantry staples before the fast of Ash Wednesday.

Moderns are perhaps not so keen on making it to confession these days in particular, though my own parish held a penitential service the Sunday evening before the beginning of Lent. Observant modern Catholics often use the solemn atmosphere of the forty days of Lent to search their souls and find time to make it to confession. (Though this may be in part because scheduling confession is a challenge in most modern parishes, but that’s a rant for another time. Seriously, can we have more than one time slot a week?)

That said, my Facebook feed has been filled with two kinds of posts that give evidence that the dual nature of the days before Lent remains. Alongside discussions of recipes for King Cake, pazckis, and plans for indulgent Fat Tuesday dinners and desserts I find thoughtful reflection about Lenten observances, the pros and cons of different kinds of sacrifices, intentions of adding devotional acts or sacrificing daily pleasures, large or small.

To the non-Catholic, it must look vaguely schizophrenic. If we think worldly things are so dangerous or sinful that we need to give them up for forty days to prepare for Easter, why not give them up year-long? Or if rich foods bring us so much joy and gratitude for God’s gifts, then why give them up at all? How does that bring us closer to God?

But Catholics, as Mark Shea is fond of observing, are a both/and people.

I saw someone explain yesterday that we are supposed to give up something we love for Lent, to show God that we love him more. This is well and good, but there’s more at play than that, I think, and the nature of our Lenten observances can change a lot from year to year. But the writer was right that there is something especially meaningful about freely giving up something that is objectively good. Lent is a good time to work on our vices and make a special effort to break bad habits, but there’s something more at work when we freely embrace a good, non-sinful enjoyment on Fat Tuesday, then freely step away from it on Ash Wednesday.

I believe God wants us to rejoice in the good things He has given us here on Earth. But I also believe He wants to give us even greater goods than these earthly ones. Fat Tuesday gives God the glory for all He has created. Ash Wednesday gives Him glory for all He still wants to pour into us. We set aside good things so that we can have our emptiness filled with the Maker of Good Things.

So eat up, everybody! Celebrate! Tomorrow, we fast.

 

Image credit Dana Moos via Flickr, https://www.flickr.com/photos/dana_moos/5229952935

Trust

If you're not familiar with PostSecret, it is--was--an art project that invited people to make and send postcards containing secrets they have never shared before. The art project came and went and people kept sending secrets, transforming it into a sort of giant Internet trust-project/confessional.

It fits, then, that the founder, Frank, was recently asked to talk about trust-building. How do you get people to trust you with their secrets? Naturally, Frank turned to other people to ask them their "secrets" for building trust, some of which he shared this week in this post. Notice how the different tips reflect the people giving them:

Use a non-judgmental compassionate voice.– Suicide Prevention Hotline Trainer

Physical contact and talking about something besides hair.– My Barber

Crouching down and speaking to someone at a lower eye level.– Founder, Humans of New York

The ability to keep a secret makes you trustworthy.– My wife 

(One a related topic, if you read HONY at all, it's worth watching this video about how Brandon approaches people to elicit those amazing stories and photographs. The tip he shares here--getting down low--is just a small part of it.)

Frank's post got me thinking about what inspires trust in me. I took a minute to jot a few thoughts down, and I figured it was worth sharing them here, as well.

My trust-building tip is this:

"Treat friends, enemies, and yourself with the same compassion and the same fairness in your speech and actions. Don't have separate standards for people you like vs people you dislike."

I was bullied as a kid, and a transformative moment in my life was realising as a teen that the bullies weren't monsters--they were just ordinary kids who let themselves believe it was ok to have one set of standards for their friends and a different one for the weird, nerdy kid they didn't understand. They didn't think of themselves as "bullies." From their perspective, they were just kids goofing around with their friends.

What this realisation did for me is convince me that the measure of a person isn't how they treat their friends, it's how they treat everyone else, especially the people they dislike or don't understand. I look for people who try their best to keep their word regardless of who it was given to, who try not to demand any less in the way of consistency and principle from themselves than they do from others.

It's probably pretty obvious that this is nothing new: it's an application of the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Matthew 5:43-48:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

These are the verses that immediately precede today's Ash Wednesday reading, which cautions, “Be careful not to  practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven..."

But Christ comes back to the Golden rule very quickly, embedding a version of it in the prayer he taught his disciples.

"This, then, is how you should pray: 

“‘Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one.’ 

For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Or, as this lesson is paraphrased elsewhere, "by the measure you use, it shall be measured to you."

I don't know about you, but I have a long way to go yet before I'm ready for that measure.





*** I'm back to blogging for Lent! And I'm not the only one. Check out the list here.