ENFORCED LENT
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My good friend who lives in Pocatello
called just now. Cheerful and interested in what I am doing and reading and
writing. She awaits the blue sheet, so I must hasten on. I told her what
I was thinking of writing about – how everyone is observing a season of self-sacrifice
this year, like it or not. She said, “I understand,” and laughed.
You have to know her circumstances to know that she really does understand.
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I failed to grow up in a tradition that
made much of Lent. In fact, puritanical types in my protestant history tended
to think Lent a Catholic activity. As years went on most churches of Christian
persuasion dabbled on the shoreline of Lent with calls to devotion and sacrifice.
Many jokes are made about giving up something for Lent.
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Believe in spiritual or physical self-sacrifice
or not, the gods that be (or not) seem to have forced Lenten practice on
all of us. I mean all of us in the whole world. I mean all of us of whatever
religion or not. In the 40 days already underway (in case you didn’t notice)
- beginning with Ash Wednesday (another of the marginal church year days
for others than Catholics) – we are all joined together in a period of self-examination,
penance, and personal sacrifice. There is wailing, gnashing of teeth, and
great humility.
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You can’t escape it. The TV facing the
exercise machine I was using at the gym this morning kept flashing the stock
market report as the Dow continued to dive.
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If the season has not affected you it
is because you are somehow immune from what is shaking the foundations of
people around the globe. These are dark days.
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If you follow the Christian story you
know that it doesn’t get any better. Holy week is more hell. Good Friday
is dark and dismal. We can experience it with honestly heavy hearts this
season. The question of this season is, will there ever be an Easter? One
thing we know is that we are living through Lent whether we believe in it
or not.
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THE AUDACITY OF HOPE
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Our book club has chosen “The Audacity
of Hope,” - by Barack Obama (in case you didn’t know) – for our March meeting.
I skimmed the book a couple of years ago, but didn’t even list it among books
I had read. It interested me because my cousin, Tom Baylis, a political science
professor in Wisconsin, mentioned that I should pay attention to a young
politician from Illinois named Obama.
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How could an unknown man of color with
a name like that be nominated for President? That’s what I thought, but didn’t
say. I think I wasn’t alone at that moment. “Audacious” was the right word
I thought.
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Well, he’s President now and he has
been handed quite a bouquet of problems to deal with. The economic crisis
is a major challenge. When many have given up hope, and some are even hoping
his efforts fail, Obama maintains something we all could use: Audacious hope.
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In between workout machines one morning
at the gym one guy was lamenting that things could only get worse. Being
a perennial contrarian, I said: “On the contrary, things are going to
get better.” He asked how I knew. “Because I am a prophet.” I
laid that on him because he was a Bible type, if you know what I mean. I
said, “You know how the Bible prophets worked?” He didn’t. “Well, when
ever things were going well they always spoke gloomily about how bad things
were going to get. And they were right 100% of the time. And when things
got desperately bad they always promised hopefully that things were going
to get better. And you know what? They were always right.”
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I left him to ponder the profundity of my prophetic proclamation.
Audacious hope has a history.
─ Art Morgan, March 2, 2009
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