We’re smack-dab in the middle of a very special season. It’s the time of year the entire world stops and thinks about Catholicism. Even if they won’t care to remember Easter, every part of society nevertheless now remembers (even if just to roll their eyes and gag) our religious heritage: the Fillet O’ Fish. But it also happens to be Lent. And in many ways, this is more important, given that Lent usually won’t give you diarrhea.
But it tries to make up for this by asking to give up something. Which means, of course, that you have to choose. This is a heavy decision with the prospect to ruin what would be a third of an NFL season. I’ve faced this choice for over three decades now. And the way I see it, there are basically four schools of thought.
The hardcore (read: crazy) Catholics pick whatever seems to inflict the most pain or inconvenience on themselves, and usually also others, within the limits of the current American legal system. This is especially prevalent among our zealous youth. For example, in college I once knew a guy, a totally reasonable, normal guy in other respects, who—I’m not making this up—gave up wiping for Lent.
I myself confess that one year, also in the throes of college, I attempted to eat nothing but bread for Holy Week. Which then drove me to eat nothing but Jimmy John’s Spicy East Coast Italian Sandwiches for Holy Saturday. Which, let’s just say, is why I said Lent “usually” doesn’t give you diarrhea. The Jimmy John’s janitor received plenty of education on the issues of this approach; and after he found my home address, I’m now well aware of them, too.
The less hardcore people approach Lent as a tool for growth. They use Lent as an excuse to basically do what they should be doing already. Maybe take on a diet and shed some extra pounds. Some take steps to reduce their screen addiction, like giving up social media. Others may give up gossip. The real weenies give up swearing.
I would often take this approach, except for the diet thing after the Jimmy John’s incident, and try and mold Lent to some particular vice I saw in myself. The trouble is my willpower runs out as soon as the season ends. Holy Saturday I’m going strong, touching the cool grass of a screen-free life; then midnight hits, and my wife finds me furiously licking my Instagram app and swearing all over the place.
The third kinds of Catholics don’t really “give up” anything, but instead “add” extra good things to their routine. They may take on a spiritual book study. Or volunteer at a soup kitchen. Or even go to daily Mass.
These people are insufferable. You can bet whatever the special little thing is, you’ll hear about it. “I can’t come to your bar-mitzvah because I’m scheduled at the soup kitchen during Lent,” they might say. “I’m sorry to hear about your dog. I’m halfway through my ‘Dogs of Scripture’ Lenten Bible Study, and we’re learning how precious these creatures are to people and to the Lord.” That sort of thing.
I’ve also tried this school. But I could never get over the judgment of trads. “Interesting you’re not giving anything up!” you’ll hear. “In my real—er, traditional Catholic parish they say Lent is a time of penance. Way to break the mold!” A few of those comments and I find myself back in the Jimmy John’s bathroom.
The last approach is to do nothing. You can go to Ash Wednesday Mass—maybe Sunday Masses, too—but otherwise the days continue essentially unchanged from your previous schedule.
Many of these people have other serious challenges in their life: a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, or whatever might be making their life topsy turvy as is. An additional discipline or penance just isn’t in the cards.
This is my approach this year. I want to say it’s because I have a new baby. But my wife has been doing all the work with that in between her trips to the soup kitchen. To be honest, I’m just not feeling it this year. I’ve tried the other three approaches and they haven’t worked out for me. So, this year I’m doing no penance, except going to fish fries, which makes me glad I’m not doing the wiping thing.
Still, I suppose Lent’s not over yet. And this exercise has reminded me that I am engaging in another time-honored Lenten practice of the Church, after all: judging other people’s Lenten practices. There may be hope for me yet!
Maybe I’ll try the Fillet O’ Fish again. I hear Jimmy John’s has a tuna sub.
