As I sit down to write, my husband is refereeing the battle going on upstairs between sisters—it seems an appropriate time to reflect gratefully on the next week we’ll have together with no school. I don’t have a sister, so this is my first formal taste of the squabbling, and whew! It is fierce and frequent.
Surprisingly, none of my Lenten suggestions seem to inspire their loving attitudes toward one another, or make any impact on the urge to bicker.
Lent is such a difficult concept for kids (let’s be honest, it’s tough for adults, too). The practice of self-denial for Jesus’ sake is a bit ethereal. No meat and desserts on Fridays, ‘because it’s Friday,’ makes for a tough sell on this Liturgical season in our house and an unbearable time of not getting what we want.
Right?
I think we get the concept of Easter, and then again, it’s difficult to grasp the fact that there was a whole long stretch of temptation and suffering that preceded the Passion. And the truth is we repel suffering. In every way—lack of sleep (hello, daylight savings time), hunger (looking at you, Ash Wednesday & Good Friday), generosity of time, talent, or treasure (when it means I get less). As a country, and maybe as people in general, we suffer from a Theology of scarcity rather than a Theology of abundance—a belief in a system in which we have to fight to have our needs met, instead of one where it is possible for the needs of all to be met.
I think at its core, this is really an instinctual response to survival—I want that last French fry, I want to get the parking spot closest to the exit, the last ticket to the event, the aisle seat, the first place in line, first round for school enrollment…you get the picture.
I can certainly resonate with this lately.
Recently we have been talking about some tasks we’d like to tackle on our home—stemming from our ability to comfortably host folks for birthday parties, Christmas gatherings, etc. I was feeling particularly justified in my desire to make some of these home improvements—”because they’re long overdue,” I made my case—until I did a quick skim through the headlines and recognized my grasping for beauty and comfort to feel a bit like my kids’ shallow squabbling for ‘what they deserved,’ when the item up for grabs was given as a gift.
(Ouch).
This is not to say we cannot receive good gifts, but maybe a timely reminder that everything I have has been given as gift, and the only appropriate response is to steward that with open hands rather than closed fists. Just maybe, their genuine pursuit of justice bothered me so much this morning because it reminded me sharply of my own feelings of scarcity and what that can look like when my desire to get while the getting is good overpowers my belief in a God who is generous and asks me to be the same.
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In related news, I’m reflecting on the first feast day of St. Oscar Romero tomorrow at Blessed Is She.
Stay tuned.