Fat Tuesday

Today is Fat Tuesday. It is a day for partying! Mardi Gras or Carnival, from New Orleans to Rio de Janeiro, Goa to Nice, wine will flow until midnight.

The reason for this tradition is because tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. That is the beginning of Lent, a time set aside to reflect on the issues of salvation and damnation, of the intersection of Man and God, mortality and eternity.

So the day before is the last chance to indulge until after Easter.

Odd thought... If you are a person of faith, cram in what might be a sin before the peer pressure at church makes you behave for a month or so.

Many people choose to give up something for Lent. They decide they will do without chocolate, or wine, or something they feel interferes with their spiritual growth, a simple reminder of their spiritual path.

I’ve had a couple of traditions these last few years around Lent. I start it, on Fat Tuesday, with watching The Passion of Christ. Not easy viewing, but it puts me in a respectful mind set.

I also choose something to give up. Either for Lent, or permanently.

That can be tough. It isn’t so bad if it’s just for Lent. I can go without anything for a few weeks. But life style changes, those are more difficult. I’m making a couple of those sort this year.

When Willy died Brenda and I began to lose each other. Neither of us knew how to help the other.

She grieved the loss of the closest thing she would have to a biological child (he looked like me, and we brought him home when he was less than a day old). She knew she would not bear a child.

I grieved him, and I swallowed gallons of poisonous guilt.

Neither of us knew how to help the other, we swam alone in the dark waters of our hearts.

But... my faith grew. I saw pain and suffering more clearly, and I saw beauty more easily. And I felt the presence of God in my life.

Her faith shriveled. Disappointment spread through her until its vines wrapped tightly around every part of who she is. It’s not that she didn’t try. She read and prayed and joined groups... but her faith became less and less of who she was, until it was only for show.

Now I am at a point where my faith has taken up such a central position in my life that when seasons such as this come along, I see the opportunity to challenge myself, to find areas where I should grow, mature. I take it seriously.

Some think religion is a crutch. Perhaps... Or maybe it’s a staff.

I try not to pick and choose the elements of my faith. I don’t mix the reincarnation, shakras, and the global embracing of all avatars as messengers of God. I do think carefully about areas where there is tension in my beliefs. The intersection of science and faith (I have yet to discover true disagreement there).

If my faith doesn’t challenge me, if it isn’t bigger than me, then what good is it? If it is a cobbled Rube Goldberg contraption on my own plate of dishes from the smorgasbord of theology (sorry about the mixed metaphor there), then it be would nothing more than a mirror of myself (and another mixed metaphor for good measure!).

I’m not sharing my Lenten resolutions here, no need to add false humility to my plentiful faults, but I resolve to make changes.

What is the point?

My life is a bit of a mess, wife (er... ex), kids, juggling household duties with professional ones with parental obligations...

I find that the more I learn the more confused I become (probably a healthy thing, that...).

My faith grows more solid every day...

I don’t know if this quirky approach I take to my life, to my faith, will bring me the things most think equal earthly happiness... a partner... but... I think that it is helping me to become someone a little better, a little truer to who I was created to be.

I might “miss out” on carn(iv)al joys, the over indulging of Fat Tuesdays, but I am satisfied with this path.

It has the added benefit of being a good example for my children, but truly, there is only one Being I am interested in pleasing.

May the Lenten Season bring all of you a little closer to joys and pleasures that last longer than living this life of flesh.