Fasting, repentance and almsgiving ... must I?

We are in the thick of Lent and hopefully looking hard at the three things which the Church asks of us at this time of the liturgical year: fasting, repentance and almsgiving.

Fasting & sacrifice

Fasting and sacrifice has, for centuries, been used by the faithful as a tool for penance. Lent, being a time of increased acts of penance therefore places stress on the place that fasting should have in our lives. Of course, the obvious form of fasting is from food and, specifically, meat, particularly on Fridays. Fasting, though, is about much more than cutting down on food as a method of showing or doing penance. Fasting is about gaining control over one’s body in order to gain a greater control over one’s thoughts and mind. We all know how it is possible for our mind, imagination and appetite (for all sorts of things, not necessarily food) to run out of control, sometimes with serious consequences. Christianity places great emphasis on gaining a greater control over every aspect of ourselves: our thoughts, our words and our deeds.

The concept of fasting is, therefore, to encourage us to take a greater control of over ourselves: we fast from food in order to get a greater control over our appetite and therefore our bodies. However, unless fasting is linked to a very positive determination to become more centred on Christ, then it may be a waste of time, for the psalmist says, “For in sacrifice you take no delight, burnt offering from me you would refuse, my sacrifice a contrite spirit, a humbled, contrite heart you will not spurn.” (Psalm 50/51)

We therefore need to look at other aspects of fasting and sacrifice which will help us to gain that ‘contrite and humbled spirit’ to which the psalmist refers and which will help us to gain a greater control over our inner lives.

Repentance

I know that the very word ‘repentance’ immediately puts us in mind of zealots calling us to ‘Repent! Repent! For the end of the world is nigh!’ Well, we can have no idea about the end of world except to know that it will come and that there will be final judgement. In the book written by the prophet Jeremiah, we are told that “I, the Lord, search the heart, I probe the loins to give each man what his conduct and actions deserve” (Jer 17:10). Whilst we can have confidence that God is a God of love and mercy, he is nevertheless also a God of justice.

Therefore, there always remains the need for us as individuals and collectively, as a society, to examine our conscience in the light of God’s Love and Truth with a view to discerning what aspects of ourselves – our thoughts, words and behaviour – stand in need of correction. Humanity is flawed – it always has been – therefore there will always be the need to repent: in other words, to convert. Don’t be fooled into thinking that conversion is always a once-in-a-lifetime and overwhelming event (though for some, such as St Paul, it was). Conversion is no more than a re-orienting of one’s whole self towards God. “In the New Testament the Greek word metanoia, often translated as conversion or repentance, means something very profound and personal: not merely a change of manners but a change of heart, a turning away from sin, a return to the Father’s love” (from ‘The Essential Catholic Handbook’).

The prophet is told by God that, “I will give you a new heart and a new mind. I will take away your stubborn heart of stone and give you an obedient heart. I will put my spirit in you and I will see to it that you follow my laws and keep all the commands I have given you. You will be my people, and I will be your God”. Ezekiel 36:26

Ongoing conversion, that is, waking up every day and reminding oneself of the need to put God first in all things, is a constant, daily requirement if we are never to lose sight of our ultimate goal.

Almsgiving

In Luke’s gospel (Chapter 16, verses 19-31 … do read it!) we hear of the rich man who ‘used to dress in purple and fine linen and feast magnificently every day’ but who failed to see the beggar Lazarus lying at his gate yearning and hungering for the food scraps, and whose wounds were licked by passing dogs. They both died, Lazarus going straight to heaven and the rich man to a very hot place. The rich man’s sin (and therefore the cause of his eternal punishment) was not that he was wealthy, dressed well and ate even better, but that he had ignored the needs of those less fortunate than himself.

The prophet Isaiah says, “Fasting like yours today will never make your voice heard on high. Is that the sort of fast that pleases me, a truly penitential day for men? Hanging your head like a reed, lying down on sackcloth and ashes? Is that what you call fasting, a day acceptable to the Lord? Is not this the sort of fast which pleases me – it is the Lord who speaks – to share your bread with the hungry and shelter the homeless poor, to clothe the man you see to be naked” (Is 58:5-7).

The Church therefore urges us to use Lent as a time of an increased giving and sharing of our wealth. Of Faith, Hope and Charity, we are told that greatest of these is Charity. To give alms is to enter in a mysterious way into the suffering of those who need our help. St James tell us, “Suppose there are brothers or sisters who need clothes and don’t have enough to eat. What good is there in your saying to them, “God bless you! Keep warm and eat well!” if you don’t give them the necessities of life?” (James 2:15) We are told that, shortly after the ascension of Jesus, his disciples “shared their belongings with one another. They would sell their property and possessions, and distribute the money among all, according to what each one needed”. (Acts 2:44)

Fasting … repentance … almsgiving … all words which ring of the Old Testament but which remain alive and kicking in this, the 21st century, and still so important for our personal growth towards a greater Christocentricity during this Lenten season.

Is the Easter Triduum for me?

Holy Week starts on Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter Sunday. Of all the weeks in the entire liturgical year, this is by far the most important for Christians around the world and is often referred to as the “Great Week”. We see Jesus come to the end of his public ministry and, indeed, life. We watch him enter Jerusalem on a donkey, apparently being hailed and accepted; we watch him gather his friends together for what he knows will be his last meal and their last time together as a group of friends; we see his anguish and fear in the Garden of Gethsemane as he awaits what he knows lies in store; we see Jesus’ unnecessarily violent arrest and witness his mistreatment and torture; we see him as he receives the heavy wooden cross onto his bruised and bloodied shoulders and we follow him as he struggles up the hill to Golgotha with his cross; we hear his anguished cries and the crack of the hammer as it drives the huge nails through his hands and feet; we hear the creaking of the wood and the howl of pain as the cross is lifted up; we watch for the dreadful three hours that it takes for Jesus to bleed and suffocate to death. We wait. We hold our breath.

All these things we experience in Holy Week and, particularly, during the Easter Triduum. A ‘triduum’ is three consecutive days of public devotion, and the Easter Triduum begins with Maundy Thursday.

On Maundy Thursday we revisit and re-enact the Last Supper. Jesus knows very well, as he gathers his friends together, that this will be the very last meal he will eat before he dies. His friends have no idea at all that this meal and the next 24 hours are going to change the entire course of the history of man’s relationship with God. As far as they are concerned, they have gathered for just another meal together. But, on this occasion, Jesus does some things he has never done before. First, he washes his friends’ feet, an action which caused a real stir amongst these men who were still struggling with the idea of humble service. Then, most importantly, he institutes the Eucharist. He takes some bread and wine and, having given thanks to his Father, he transforms the bread and wine into his body and blood, telling his friends that “This is my body” and “This is my blood”, and instructing them to “Do this in memory of me”. This was a truly historic moment: he was showing his friends how to carry out what has been carried out in every Mass around the world since that meal. On Maundy Thursday, then, the Church revisits this final meal in a deeply special and significant way, and we see priests across the world bringing to life the humility of God by getting down onto their knees and washing the feet of 12 of their parishioners. This is followed by the wonderful Eucharistic Prayer in which the bread and wine are turned into the Body and Blood of Jesus, so much more poignant on this day than any other.

At the end of Mass we see the tabernacle being emptied, the Holy Water being removed from stoups, the altar being stripped and all crucifixes being removed or covered in purple, and there is a real feeling of foreboding, a sense of Jesus about to be removed from us.

Maundy Thursday invites us to meditate …

• Have I understood that at the heart of Christianity is humble service?
• The first shall be last and the last first
• Jesus comes back to me, to be with me, in a deeply personal way through the Eucharist
• Do I take this sacrament for granted?
• Do I receive it carelessly?
• Do I give myself to him to the degree that he gives himself to me?
  

Through the events of Maundy Thursday Jesus is telling us…

• I am with you
• I come to you still to strengthen and enlighten you
• I will help you in all that you have to do
• I am sharing my divinity with you

The very next day is Good Friday, the second part of the Triduum.

On Good Friday the faithful will gather in churches all around the world at about 3pm, roughly the time which marks the start of Jesus’ passion. We hear readings from the Old Testament which foretell of a time when “a thing despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering, a man to make people screen their faces; he was despised and we took no account of him. And yet ours were the sufferings he bore, ours the sorrows he carried” (Isaiah 53:3). Then we hear, again, the account of Jesus’ torture and crucifixion. This is by far the most solemn day in the Church’s calendar, and the vestments worn by the priest will be red to bring to mind the blood which was spilt and poured out upon the earth on that day. The faithful are invited to ‘venerate the cross’, perhaps to the words of one of the most haunting and thought-provoking of songs … “My people, what have I done to you? How have I offended you? What more could I have done for you? I led you from slavery to freedom, but you handed me over to your high priests … I opened the sea before you, but you opened my side with a spear … I led you on your way in a pillar of cloud, but you led me to Pilate’s court … I bore you up with manna in the desert, but you struck me down and scourged me … I gave you saving water from the rock, but you gave me gall and vinegar to drink … I gave you a royal sceptre, but you gave me a crown of thorns … I raised you to the height of majesty, but you have raised me high on a cross….. My people, what have I done to you? How have I offended you? Answer me….” The altar and sanctuary, already bare, now feel even more bereft as the tabernacle is empty and left wide open: Jesus has gone, he is no longer with us. The faithful leave the church on Good Friday with a sense of desolation and loss and, perhaps, a fresh understanding of their own contribution to the suffering and death of Jesus.

Good Friday invites us to ask …

• What part was I playing on this day?
• Was I one of the soldiers? Mocking Jesus by claiming to be a Christian but not living like one?
• Was I in the jostling crowd, afraid to speak up for him?
• Do I remain silent about my faith?
• Which of my sins contributed to his suffering? My selfishness? My pride? My untruths? My anger and irritability?

What would Jesus say to me?

• I know what it is like to be afraid and to feel alone
• I know what it is like to be treated unjustly
• I want you to pick up your cross and come after me
• Be patient in your suffering for I am with you
• All will be well

The day after Good Friday is Holy Saturday, the third part of the Triduum.

This is a day of waiting. On Holy Saturday the Church – that is you and me – waits at the Lord’s tomb, thinking about his suffering and death. Is this the end? What is going to happen next? If Jesus really had been God, why didn’t he save himself? How did it come to this? Will we ever see him again? The altar is left bare and Mass is not celebrated: it is all very quiet and still. The only service on this day is the Easter Vigil, often called the “mother of all holy vigils” and starts after sundown on the night before Easter. This service begins with a ‘Service of Light’ when all the lights in the church are put out and the faithful gather outside the church around a fire – the New Fire – holding candles. The flame from the fire – which the priest will bless – is used to light the Paschal or Easter Candle and is a symbol of Jesus, the Light of the World, risen in glory and sharing his light and glory with us.

Once the Paschal candle has been lit, the faithful move quietly back into the dark church and light their own small candles from the flame of the Paschal candle, and the church is gradually filled with light. We then embark upon the ‘Liturgy of the Word’ when we listen to several readings which move us through the Old Testament, all the time building up an awareness of the promise of the coming of a Saviour. This part culminates in what is one of the most joyous ten minutes of the year – the altar and sanctuary which have been bare for days are brought to life: the altar and sanctuary candles are lit, the altar and tabernacle are dressed and flowers fill the sanctuary for the first time since Ash Wednesday. There is a tangible sense of newness of life, a reawakening and rebirth. The bells are rung, the Gloria is sung and our hearts are filled with a real joy. We hear passages from the New Testament and, at last, an account of the risen Jesus appearing to his friends and revealing to them that death has been destroyed forever.
This is the point when we meet and remember the risen Lord, and we can at last lift up our voices in all those glorious Alleluia’s which we have not been allowed to utter since Ash Wednesday. It is with joy and wonder that during the Vigil we revisit our Baptismal Promises, reminding ourselves of our belief in the risen Lord.

The final day is, of course, Easter Sunday and ‘this Mass is our ‘Alleluia’: our song of praise to the risen Christ who is our life and whose triumph over death we proclaim to all the world’. (Sunday Missal)


The events of Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday tell me to …

• Rejoice! … do I come across as a rejoicing person?
• Believe! … does my belief stop short of really accepting that God loves me and is taking care of me, despite all of my worries?
• Embrace! … have I properly embraced my Baptismal Promises by rejecting all that is evil and by living a holy and Spirit-filled life?
• Proclaim! … does my way of life proclaim that God is love?

Clearly, Holy Week, is a busy week in terms of going to church. The joy of Easter is made all the more joyous when we have entered fully into the sorrow and anguish which precede it, so it is a good thing to try to attend all of these services if we possibly can.

Entering into the Easter Triduum is important for us on an individual level because, as Christians, our aim must be to walk in the footsteps of Jesus. To walk in his footsteps does not mean that we can pick and choose which bits of his journey appeal to us: he invites us to embrace them all. In walking with him through his suffering we soon discover that he is with us in our suffering – he can relate to everything. To greet and acclaim the risen Lord at Easter is to greet and acclaim the risen and living Lord in our own day-to-day lives, and to recognise the many and varied ways in which he so devotedly walks with us.

He was treated harshly, but endured it humbly;
he never said a word.
Like a lamb about to be slaughtered,
he never said a word.
He was arrested and sentenced and led off to die,
and no-one cared about his fate.
He was put to death for the sins of our people.
He was placed in a grave with the wicked,
even though he had never committed a crime
or ever told a lie.

The LORD says,
It was my will that he should suffer;
his death was a sacrifice to bring forgiveness.
After a life of suffering, he will again have joy;
he will know that he did not suffer in vain.
My devoted servant, with whom I am pleased,
will bear the punishment of many
and for his sake I will forgive them.
Isaiah 53:10-12