For 5 long years I've struggled with how to do Lent with kids. I didn't want to confuse or overburden them with the idea of fasting when they were so young and didn't fully understand. I felt like I would simply be taking something away, without them being able to gain the spiritual fruits of their sacrifices. After watching them travel through Advent this time I realized I was looking at things all wrong. During Advent we treated that time of preparation as a gift and the kids ate it up. Instead of waking up one day and having it be Christmas, we had some build-up. While presents were a big deal in their minds, it was such a joy to see them make a space in their hearts for the Christ-child. When the congregation rang out the words of the Angels, "Glory to God in the highest!", the kids, after an entire Advent of preparing, were so full of joy I'm sure they out sang (or out shouted??) the choir.
So why can't we do that with Lent? Why can't we use these 40 days of Lent to make that space in their hearts a little bigger, a little deeper, a little broader? I remember last year on Good Friday we took the kids up to reverence the Cross. The three oldest had so much tenderness for Jesus. They asked me when we got back in the pew if we were kissing Jesus to make His boo-boos all better. My daughter, after I explained the crucifix was an image to remind us of how much Jesus loves us, said she wishes she could hug Jesus and kiss all His boo-boos better for real. They have hearts of such deep compassion and love for Christ, even if they don't understand all the theological realities yet.
After some discussion and prayer with my husband, we came upon an obvious idea for a fast for the kids, and honestly for me too. We decided to propose to the kids that they give up TV Monday to Saturday during Lent. It didn't take long for the three oldest, our real TV fiends, to jump on the idea. We had experimented with keeping the TV off a few weeks ago without anyone getting killed or even maimed. Because of that recent experience they knew that no TV didn't mean no fun. It meant more time to ask Mommy 2 million question, do art projects, lots of music and games, and play using their imagination in freedom instead of being weighed down by suggested concepts from their favourite shows. In addition to having the TV off, I'm going to make sure we take part of each day to pray together and to talk about what Easter is all about so that when we reach Easter Sunday they'll sing with their loudest voice their thanks and praise to Jesus, their friend and saviour. That will be a gift worth every moment of sacrifice and extra preparation I can muster for them. I'm sure there are days when I'm be tempted to let them tune in and tune out, but hopefully I'll be able to pray through it and instead tune them into the Spirit that is whispering mercy and hope in their tiny hearts.
My husband and I, besides giving up some of the usual suspects (fast food being a sore spot for our bodies, souls and budget), will be adding on special time for prayer together as a couple. We hope to join a novena for Pope Benedict XVI as he passes quietly into a life of prayer and contemplation, and for his successor, who will be passing from relative anonymity to become a faithful shepherd to over a billion Catholics. We also hope to complete a dedication to Christ through the Blessed Virgin Mary. My sincere hope is that our meagre efforts will bring us closer as a couple and a family, and that we will find ourselves closer to Christ as we weep at the foot of the Cross, wait in vigil by the tomb, and celebrate again the Resurrection. Tonight, let the imposition of the ashes on our foreheads be a reminder that we owe our life and breath to God, and let it be the beginning of our journey as a family to come closer to the heart of Christ.
Showing posts with label Cross. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cross. Show all posts
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
Thursday, 22 November 2012
Church of Entitlement
I've been reading a lot about the Church lately that has me a little irked. The general reaction reminds me of the old saying "What have you done for ME lately?". The feeling of entitlement is just sickening. The issues spawn from what we think is our right, our due. Changes to the priesthood, change in worship styles, changes in sexual ethics, demanding sacraments on our own terms, viewing the Church as a pretty building for hire at the right price, wanting to have your pastor's personal line on speed dial, etc.
Every one of these issues find their root in our feeling of entitlement. We want the Church to serve our will, our desire, and our vision. The Church is there to serve us yes, but not because we deserve anything. Christ called us to serve the weak, the unworthy, and the sinners (of which most if not all of us fall into all three categories). The Church's service to us, however, does not mean that She is meant to bow down to our human knowledge, will, and societal demands. The Church is not a teenager bowing down to peer pressure. She is the Bride of Christ, and must, like her Heavenly Spouse, bear witness to the truths God has taught us through Holy Scripture and through our long Tradition. To change Her ways to appeal to current societal appeals is to deny Her dignity. Her duty is now and has always been to present Christ to us, through God's word, through the Sacraments He instituted in Her, especially through the Most Sacred Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. Nothing else the world tells us we need can compare to the mystery and glory of the Eucharist.
The fact that I can even dare to approach the altar of God, for which I am eminently unworthy, is a miracle of unending mercy and grace. My worthiness comes not from my good deeds, my own time in devoted prayer, or even by nature of my humanity, even though I was made in God's image. I am fallen, spoiled, and broken. I am a distorted image of God. I can never rise on my own to a level of dignity high enough to deserve to even sit at the foot of the Altar to bask in the wonder of His Presence. The only reason I can even begin to approach the Lord, and even then with soul-rending humility, is because Christ has taken on my sin and allowed me to take upon myself His worthiness. I am alive in God on borrowed grace that I fight to continue to accept every day I live. My baptism has saved me and the Eucharist brings me into the body of Christ and sustains me. Despite my brokenness, Christ has given me mercy.
In that light, the Church owes me nothing. The Church has already given me more than I can ever deserve as She shares with me through Her anointed ministers the Sacraments of Christ. To come to Her with a sense of entitlement and demand She bend to my will is to throw back in Her face and that of Her Spouse the gift of the Cross. How can I say what She offers is too little when She is Christ to me as I await Heaven?
All I can ask of my Church is that Her ministers remain accountable, truthful, and that they do everything they can to maintain Her in the same dignity Christ gave to Her on Calvary. At times we may choose to adorn Her in different ways and delve more deeply into the truths She protects, but we must always strive to protect Her true beauty, which is the Sacraments. We must request them with great discernment and humility and accept them with a bowed heart and not a grasping hand. At times we must step back and realise we still cannot ask for the Sacraments because of our state of sinfulness or even the realisation that not all Sacraments are meant for us individually. Our Church is not a fast food chain. The altar is not a table. The Eucharist is not bread, but the Very Body and Blood of our Saviour, broken and poured out for us as a ransom from death. Let us treat the Church as holy ground, not as a place where we can place our order and expect it to be filled to the letter. Approach the Altar of Christ with sorrow and weeping as you would the Cross, and give thanks for what you have been given in the depths of your sinfulness and leave your self-entitled requests at the door. In doing that and accepting Christ in the Sacraments as God has ordained them for you, you will find great joy, peace, and fulfilment than any plan you could conceive for yourself.
Every one of these issues find their root in our feeling of entitlement. We want the Church to serve our will, our desire, and our vision. The Church is there to serve us yes, but not because we deserve anything. Christ called us to serve the weak, the unworthy, and the sinners (of which most if not all of us fall into all three categories). The Church's service to us, however, does not mean that She is meant to bow down to our human knowledge, will, and societal demands. The Church is not a teenager bowing down to peer pressure. She is the Bride of Christ, and must, like her Heavenly Spouse, bear witness to the truths God has taught us through Holy Scripture and through our long Tradition. To change Her ways to appeal to current societal appeals is to deny Her dignity. Her duty is now and has always been to present Christ to us, through God's word, through the Sacraments He instituted in Her, especially through the Most Sacred Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. Nothing else the world tells us we need can compare to the mystery and glory of the Eucharist.
The fact that I can even dare to approach the altar of God, for which I am eminently unworthy, is a miracle of unending mercy and grace. My worthiness comes not from my good deeds, my own time in devoted prayer, or even by nature of my humanity, even though I was made in God's image. I am fallen, spoiled, and broken. I am a distorted image of God. I can never rise on my own to a level of dignity high enough to deserve to even sit at the foot of the Altar to bask in the wonder of His Presence. The only reason I can even begin to approach the Lord, and even then with soul-rending humility, is because Christ has taken on my sin and allowed me to take upon myself His worthiness. I am alive in God on borrowed grace that I fight to continue to accept every day I live. My baptism has saved me and the Eucharist brings me into the body of Christ and sustains me. Despite my brokenness, Christ has given me mercy.
In that light, the Church owes me nothing. The Church has already given me more than I can ever deserve as She shares with me through Her anointed ministers the Sacraments of Christ. To come to Her with a sense of entitlement and demand She bend to my will is to throw back in Her face and that of Her Spouse the gift of the Cross. How can I say what She offers is too little when She is Christ to me as I await Heaven?
All I can ask of my Church is that Her ministers remain accountable, truthful, and that they do everything they can to maintain Her in the same dignity Christ gave to Her on Calvary. At times we may choose to adorn Her in different ways and delve more deeply into the truths She protects, but we must always strive to protect Her true beauty, which is the Sacraments. We must request them with great discernment and humility and accept them with a bowed heart and not a grasping hand. At times we must step back and realise we still cannot ask for the Sacraments because of our state of sinfulness or even the realisation that not all Sacraments are meant for us individually. Our Church is not a fast food chain. The altar is not a table. The Eucharist is not bread, but the Very Body and Blood of our Saviour, broken and poured out for us as a ransom from death. Let us treat the Church as holy ground, not as a place where we can place our order and expect it to be filled to the letter. Approach the Altar of Christ with sorrow and weeping as you would the Cross, and give thanks for what you have been given in the depths of your sinfulness and leave your self-entitled requests at the door. In doing that and accepting Christ in the Sacraments as God has ordained them for you, you will find great joy, peace, and fulfilment than any plan you could conceive for yourself.
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