The Strange Case of the Disappearing Lent

Lent disappeared. Somehow without my noticing, the 40-day period before Easter vanished.

Hot Cross Bun

Well, I'm being alarmist: Lent isn't gone for everybody. Catholics still celebrate Lent -- I know because I've seen people walking around with ashes on their foreheads on Ash Wednesday and talking about giving up  soda or chocolate or booze for Lent. I've bought hot cross buns in the grocery store and noticed fish appearing on menus.

But in most evangelical churches, mine included, Lent is not mentioned. Possibly it disappeared for the same reason other liturgical standards like the Lord's Prayer, the Doxology and the Apostles' Creed are gone:  to distance our brand of Protestantism from Catholicism or to eliminate rituals that might be intimidating or confusing to new churchgoers.  Now, that's commendable and our congregation has grown enormously in the past five years, but in trying to do away with traditions and rituals, I wondered if we have thrown the proverbial baby out with the bathwater. Perhaps some Christian traditions like Lent should be retained because of their deep meaning to a longtime Christian.

Forty years ago, in Creston Iowa where I grew up, Lent was observed (pardon the pun) religiously. The church used Lent as a time to prepare for the holiest day in the Christian religion, Easter. We didn't go so far as to give things up (that would've been too Catholic, even for Presbyterians), but Lent was the subject of many a sermon.

The best parts of Lent in Creston were the community Lenten services. Each Sunday night a different church hosted. Being a prodigious walker in those days,  I got a chance to see the insides of churches I had walked by. I also learned that there were many ways to worship within Protestantism, even in our small town.I remember seeing a fold-down kneeler and having no idea what it was until I saw somebody using it. Over the course of the six weeks, our family visited many churches, heard a variety of messages, and were treated to supper after each service in the church basement. It was an ecumenical and special way to lead up to Easter.

I miss Lent, so to ready myself for Easter, I've been reading daily selections from the book Bread and Wine-- Readings for Lent and Easter. This poem was in the book:

To Keep a True Lent

Is this a Fast, to keep

  the larder lean?

   And clean

From the fat of veals and sheep?

Is it to quit the dish

  of flesh, yet still

     To fill

the platter high with fish?

Is it to fast an hour,

  Or ragg'd to go,

     Or show

A down-cast look and sour?

No: 'tis a Fast to dole

    Thy sheaf of wheat

         And meat

With a hungry soul.

It is to fast from strife

  And old debate,

     And hate;

To circumcise thy life,

To show a heart grief-rent;

   To starve thy sin,

      Not bin;

And that's to keep thy Lent.

Robert Herrick

Meds

"There are no drugs without side effects."  Dr. Parks

 Today I was talking with a friend who was hospitalized last weekend for heart problems. She has had heart trouble for years and it follows a predictable pattern. "I know why I end up in the hospital. I take the drugs that they want me to take for awhile but then they start making feel bad, so I quit taking them." Eventually she ends up at the ER.   After experiencing my own week of drug-related horror, I can relate.

It started simply enough. On Saturday, I e-mailed my MS doctor, asking for a drug to replace the antidepressant that I have been taking for seven months or so (yes, unfortunately, people with MS tend to be depressed sometimes). By and large the drug worked pretty well, but there were a few side effects I hoped would go away if I took a different drug.

My doctor responded immediately and prescribed a different medication, which I picked up on Monday. Ron left Tuesday for a business conference in Florida, and I naively hoped that by the time he returned on Saturday, I would be a better, happier person.

But if you want God to laugh, tell Him your plans.

I started feeling bad on Tuesday and by Wednesday I had come down with a bad cold so I stayed in and rested. I was lonely and miserable, but fortunately by Thursday I felt better. I was so busy I didn't notice the weird symptoms I was experiencing:  vivid nightmares, severe and frequent hot flashes, crying jags and nausea.

That night I went to dinner with my book group, then to hear humanitarian Greg Mortensen speak (our group read his book Three Cups of Tea).  Something was amiss though: Mortensen didn't talk very long, but I felt so uncomfortable and fidgety I wanted to jump out of my skin.

Friday and Saturday I helped at the Rochester library's used book sale, but then came home and collapsed. Ron came back Saturday night, but my condition continued to decline.  I wondered if this was what Hell was like.

On Sunday night, I finally cracked and e-mailed my doctor, telling her about the side effects I'd been experiencing.  What she said in response surprised me.

 "I don't think the side effects are from the new drug.  I think they are more likely from stopping the old one." Basically, I was going through withdrawal.  Wow, no wonder withdrawal horror stories are so common. My doctor recommended gradually taking a pill of the old drug every other day for a week then every third day for a week, weaning myself gradually off it.

I jumped on her advice and today I felt much better; however, I learned a lesson in caution. Nothing is free, least of all a cure for the age-old complaint of depression.  Take all drugs with care, realizing there are tradeoffs. Every benefit comes at a price, and it's up to us to determine what we are willing to pay.

Signs of spring (and a nasty cold)

The last couple of days I've been feeling really bad, having come down with the cold that seems to be making the rounds. I laid low, spending time lying on the couch reading. Nyquil and Vicks VapoRub have become my good friends.

This morning when I got the newspaper, I noticed crocuses peeking through the leaves in front of our porch. Spring is coming, and that's encouraging.

 

Work and satisfaction

Laziness may appear attractive, but work gives satisfaction.
Anne Frank

Work is central to my being and the fact that I have not gone into the office since the the end of May last year should be troubling to me. After all, I am disabled, and becoming increasingly less mobile. Everything takes me twice as long to do and often I am not showered and ready to be seen before late morning.

But I don't miss work at all. I do miss the people that I worked with, in some cases for over a decade.  What I don't miss:

• Rushing around trying to get ready 
• Working in the office with increasingly less efficiency
• Riding my scooter around trying to not hit small children or the company president
• Going to lunch room at noon and trying to wrestle open packages with one hand

And the list goes on... There are so many things I don't miss that it almost makes up for the loneliness I feel some days.

Really?

Of course, some of this may be attributable to seasonal affective disorder, which is directly related to the amount of sunlight in the day. But just to be sure, I am stepping up my volunteering.  According to one of my friends, many organizations are desperate for volunteers, so even though I am pretty disabled, it's just a matter of matching my abilities with what the organization needs. To accomplish this, I made a grid listing my skills, abilities, needs and passions and then tried to match them up with opportunities at organizations like the Red Cross, Springfield Center for Independent Living, the Springfield Area Literacy Council etc.Hopefully I will find something.

Relaxing

Helping another person is deeply satisfying. Some days, all I can get accomplished is talking on the phone to my daughter or making dinner for my husband or meeting with the girl that I mentor. Other days I am more productive and do writing, planning, and help my older daughter prepare for her wedding. A retired friend  told me that as long as I accomplish one thing each day, I can consider it worthwhile. I have found this to be very helpful, allowing me to ease up on myself and relax.. Life is more enjoyable as a result. Who knew?

Pursuing pleasure

Most men pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it. Soren Kierkegaard

There are so many pleasures in life -- I think God gives us a glimpse of heaven when we experience earthly pleasures.  Some pleasures I've enjoyed recently (also enjoyed by the Great Thinkers, as evidenced by the accompanying quote):

Lying in bed at the beginning of the day after the alarm goes off, not sleeping, but not awake either.

Each morning when I awake, I experience again a supreme pleasure - that of being Salvador Dali.  Salvador Dali 

Watching the goldfinches and woodpeckers flock to our bird feeder in the snowy backyard.

There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more. George Byron

My cockatiel's head burrowing into my cupped hand, the bird closing her eyes with pleasure, and then giving me little bird kisses.

Sometimes, I feel discriminated against, but it does not make me angry. It merely astonishes me. How can any deny themselves the pleasure of my company? It's beyond me.  Zora Neale Hurston

Watching Maddy, the nine-year-old girl I mentor, pillow her head on my jacket and go to sleep during the Justin Bieber movie Sunday.

I love these little people; and it is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.  Charles Dickens.

Admiring my neat and organized laundry room after my husband installed a new shelf last weekend.

 Exactness and neatness in moderation is a virtue, but carried to extremes narrows the mind.  Francois FeNelon

Having the freedom to lie on the sofa and read during the day.

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.  Jane Austen

The lively discussion, fellowship, and real affection from the wonderful women in my book group.

Close friends contribute to our personal growth. They also contribute to our personal pleasure, making the music sound sweeter, the wine taste richer, the laughter ring louder because they are there.  Judith Viorst

A piping hot cup of coffee with cream, while I watch the Today Show with my husband.

The greatest pleasure of life is love. Euripides

Lincoln's farewell address (again)

I got to be part of an historic event today -- well maybe. The event may not have actually been historic, and I got there too late to really be a part of it. But still, it was kind of neat.

On this day 150 years ago, Abraham Lincoln stood outside the Great Western Train Depot in downtown Springfield and addressed a wet crowd of well-wishers before taking the train to go to Washington to become president. To draw some attention to Lincoln and Springfield, the Illinois Historic Preservation Agency decided to try to set a new record in the Guinness Book of World Records for simultaneous reading and have the address read by the crowd as well as across the nation. The previous record was set in 2006 when 223,363 participants read a passage from Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White.

Fritz Klein

I wanted to go to the reenactment for a couple of reasons: the Lincoln impersonator, Fritz Klein, goes to our church and a couple of women in my book group are employed at the IHPA. I thought the event would be fun and might be historic, but somehow things didn't turn out exactly as I expected.

After driving downtown about 10:45 and noticing a crowd around the train depot I begin looking for a handicapped parking spot. Eventually I found one straight down the street from the depot, only a couple of blocks away. I pulled my rollator out of the backseat, locked my brace into place and started slowly waddling down the street. Warmly dressed people rushed past, headed for the reenactment, which was scheduled for 11 am sharp.

I was participant #750

As I got closer to the depot I could hear the crowd reciting the words of the Farewell Address, led by Fritz, who I could hear, thanks to the loudspeakers, but not see. Close to the crowd, I paused after running into a slippery pile of snow, and a lady asked me if I wanted to participate. I told her that I was too late, but she handed me a flier anyway. Apparently I was participant number 750. Just as I rolled up, the crowd finished reciting the address for the third time, completing the five minutes required by Guinness. Lincoln/Fritz doffed his stovepipe hat and, since there was no train in sight, got in a car and drove away.

The crowd, many of whom were in historic dress, started leaving, but I moved forward, attempting to shoot some video on the camera that Ron gave me for Christmas. Unfortunately my video skills have not improved over the years (I used to take jerky movies of the kids), so instead I have posted a far superior video from the Springfield State Journal-Register.

The depot after the crowd dispersed

I did manage to shoot a couple of photos, one of which I posted, further proof that I was indeed there.

According to the news, it may be a couple weeks before we know if the record was broken. But even though I was late, I was glad I went.

Lincoln's Farewell Address

"My friends, no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place and the kindness of these people, I owe everything. Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington. Without the assistance of that Divine Being who ever attended him, I cannot succeed. With that assistance I cannot fail. Trusting in Him who can go with me, and remain with you, and be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell."

Black Swan by accident and The Blind Assassin on purpose

Yesterday I decided to go to a movie, because I'd been in the house for three days running and desperately wanted to get out. Hoping to catch  The King's Speech at 2:20 pm, I showed up at the theater at two o'clock, only to find that it had started at 1:45.

"Are there any other movies that start right now?" I asked the teenager at the desk. "'Black Swan' starts in one minute," she said. I nodded and pushed my debit card toward her. Black Swan was nominated for several awards and its star, Natalie Portman, won best actress at the Golden Globes and Screen Actors Guild awards.(I follow all these award shows religiously, until they begin to blend together in my mind. By the time the Oscars are over, I can't remember who won which award.)

Natalie Portman

I got my popcorn and soda, and sat down in the mostly empty theater. A few other middle-aged people like myself were there on a weekday afternoon, probably to see what all the commotion was about.  Portman plays a young ballerina, Nina, who wins the coveted role of the Swan Queen in Swan Lake even though the artistic director, who makes a pass at her, says she is right for the White Swan but that she is too controlled for the Black Swan role. She lives with her mother

Barbara Hershey

(a very scary Barbara Hershey) who treats her like a little girl complete with an all-pink bedroom and ballerina jewelry box. The other significant person in the picture is another young ballerina, Lily, played by Mila Kunis, who is Nina's antithesis -- into crazy sex, drugs etc. 

Mila Kunis

The girls become friends and Nina begins to spin out of control, sprouting black feathers from open open wounds on her back and fingertips. It's pretty mind-boggling and by the end of the movie you're really not sure what is reality and what is not. There is also a very graphic girl-on-girl sex scene, which only contributes to the general strangeness. When I came out of the theater, the boy sweeping up popcorn asked me how I liked the show. I paused and then said, "That was a really weird movie." "I don't plan to see it," he said.  I wonder if the other theatre-goers had the same reaction.

I have a much more favorable review of the book The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood. My book group is meeting here to discuss the book, which I recommended. The novel covers three separate, yet related plot lines: the lives (and deaths) two sisters, a tale of two unnamed lovers, and a science-fiction fantasy that one lover tells the other during their trysts. I have not read any of Atwood's other books, even though they are well-regarded, because I felt (probably wrongly) that they were feminist tracks, but Atwood is a fantastic writer and the book, enthralling.

 One negative review, one positive one.  I guess I should have waited for the next showing of The King's Speech.