Bad Lent

I'm a screw-up. That's right, a grade 'A' screw-up. This self-affirmation has been a mantra for me ever since I met my wife. I screw-up a lot in marriage. It's a weird thing--perhaps a blog for another time-- that only in marriage did I realize I was such a miserable git. Don't get me wrong, my wife isn't some victimizing guilt-monger. But I thought I was pretty good, pretty generous and selfless, before marriage. Man, was I wrong...and it.is.humbling. I realize I'm half the man I want to be, and I want to be half the man I could be, and that frustrates me. That ol' Catholic guilt? Perhaps. My melancholic temperament? Probably. Self-deprecating British humor? Somewhat. But there is truth in it, nonetheless.

This lent began with fine resolutions. Aspirations of grandeur. Fasting, and prayer, and changes in lifestyle and health, recognizing my body as a temple of God. Spiritual reading--Augustine's Confessions in forty days. Renewed efforts in my professional life, with early rising to make time to focus on side projects, and conversation with God. I wanted to the "best version of myself" (man that phrase has been done-to-death.) The problem is, I wasn't. I tried, but in my ambition, I took steps further back than I was pre-Lent. I pressed my snooze button more times that I could count. I went 5 days sometimes without dedicated more prayer. I gorged more than on feast days. My sin grew as I strived towards virtue. My cry was the cry of St Paul, doing the things I didn't want to do, with all the thorns. And, in the blink of an eye, Lent is almost over. The temptation now is despair and the allure of self-pity. Did I set the bar too high? I haven't been to the gym in a while.

Pride is such a wicked thing. It strives for one thing and then, when it is not reached through one's own merit, it pummels itself with stones of wicked critique. With such accusations, one believes himself incapable of that which he first set out to attain, and accepts the label he applies to himself. I found myself in the mire of my own misery. The hopelessness of Peter after the second crow of the cock, and yet that same fickle disciple gives me hope. We read in the gospel from Palm Sunday about this character, with high aspirations and self-confidence, assuring Our Lord that, even if others are shaken in their faith, he will never be shaken. Christ gives the cold prophecy of the three-time denial before the cock crows twice which, as all know, comes to fruition by the fire. When the rubber meets the road, will the rubber hold out? This lesson, for Peter, was a realization of his own weakness, and the accompanying need for the mercy of God.

Palm Sunday commences Holy Week, the final sprint of Lent. The finish line is in sight. At this point, with the words of a dear priest, I am encouraged to push on, and renew my commitments. For all my failures, to strive on and to make this week truly a Holy one, for God's glory and not my own. When I was in college a mentor counseled me, when I was convinced of my own inability to be a good student, to "pretend" to be a good student. This may seem a silly idea, but curiously, it worked! I believed myself to be a pretty shitty excuse for an undergraduate, but I did know what made me such and, more so, what made the seemingly "good students" good. What did I have to do? Just pretend to be one of the good students, acting the way that the good students act. Even if I wasn't one in reality, I could still pretend to be one, right? Right.

I plan to recycle this old lesson during this Holy Week. I've undoubtedly fumbled this lent, but it is not over yet. It would be premature to throw in the towel. The end is in sight, but it is not yet here, and so I can--I will--"begin again." I will pretend, for a week--just a week--to be the kind of person I want to be, and see what happens, starting the day with a prayer of gratitude and petition that I may have the strength to put on a good act. This will take sacrifice, but I want to bring something to Our Lord on Friday, when he is on the cross, so that something glorified may be lifted up on Sunday.