The End Is Here: One Final Post

Lent is over and the Easter season is here. It was quite a ride and an experience like no other, but barring any unforeseen circumstances this will be the final post on "A Lenten Ramadan (of Sorts)." Before I sign off, however, I wanted to share a summation of what will surely be some of the memories I will take away with me. So for one last time, here we go!

• Easter Vigil Redux. Because blogging every day throughout Lent made me a feel a bit anti-social at times, I made a conscious decision to not spend much time in front of the computer on Easter Sunday, electing instead to try and be more present to family. Perhaps you may find it a bit odd that my Easter comments were brief and not particularly deep, but in a way that was what I intended all along. I hope that the previous six and a half weeks of posts left little doubt to where I stood on Easter . . . besides, even for the disciples the experience defied full explanation and, I imagine, was deeply personal and meant something slightly different to each of them. Holy Saturday was indeed a long day and, as beautiful as the Vigil Mass was, I found it difficult to concentrate due to my hunger and the overall anticipation of the conclusion of Lent. While the symbolism and beauty of the Vigil is impossible to surpass, for reasons mentioned yesterday I found Easter Sunday Mass with the entire family to be much more personal. What was most memorable about Holy Saturday was breaking the fast afterward. Brandi and I met my brother-in-law, his wife and our friend Matt at "The Cellar Bar and Grill" in Kearney. Just this past weekend it was announced that The Cellar's Western Burger was voted the best hamburger in Nebraska, so the choice for dinner was a no-brainer. Along with the onion rings and an ice cold Boulevard Wheat, it was a fitting end to a long Lent. The only tense moment was arriving at the restaurant at 10:15pm when the kitchen closed at 10:30. It was a close call, but all is well that ends well. Afterwards, we met our friends Tom and Becky at Matt's house for some more laughs and our own little Easter celebration.  Note to self, never eat a hamburger at 10:30pm . . . at my age it is not conducive to a good night's sleep.

• Speaking of eating. I am hopeful that my Lenten practice will lead to different noshing patterns and practices. I am making an exception for today because it is truly the first day of Easter for me since I was not observing the fast on Sundays in Lent anyway and I am still in celebration mode (it is nice to actually taste test the food I am cooking!). From this point forward I am looking to eliminate snacking between meals and while cooking. I feel healthy and happier knowing that I have gone through a physical and spiritual cleansing. This is not strictly because I couldn't eat for large chunks of time either. A large part of this new sense of my food-related self is rooted in a greater attentiveness to food security issues for the billions of hungry in our world as well as an ever-increasing awareness of where our food comes from, the pesticides and fertilizers that often contaminate it, the short cuts taken for the sake of convenience and the enormous amounts of fossil fuels used to get food to my dinner plate. Right now I feel inspired and wish the Farmers' Market were open today!

• Respect, admiration and a learning experience unlike any other.  It is one thing to read about something in a textbook, it is quite another thing to actually experience it for yourself. I know that from now on when my future World Religions classes learn about Islam I will never look at Ramadan the same again and I hope that the insight I gained will help to make this material come alive for my students. But by itself this sounds somewhat self-serving. In terms of a study of Islam what I have truly gained is a deep respect and admiration for Muslims who practice the Ramadan fast on an annual basis. Even though I may never observe Lent quite this way ever again, I know that I will be inspired in subsequent years to embrace a Lenten practice that truly becomes a personal sacrifice that draws me into deeper prayer and relationship with God and others. This August I will also be keenly aware that Ramadan is occurring and will have in my thoughts and prayers my Muslim brothers and sisters throughout the world. I pray that we can all develop a sensitivity to the important times for the world's religions throughout the course of each year and through these efforts nurture a greater understanding and respect for one another.

• Think globally, act locally.  As mentioned several times over the course of Lent I am inspired by the efforts of the Omaha organizations Project Interfaith and the Tri-Faith Initiative. It is not only refreshing but also a sign of great hope that there are many people of such good will from various religious backgrounds who are committed to making mutual understanding and respect such a priority. I look forward to participating in future programs and offering support for their continued efforts. If you live in the Omaha area I encourage you to explore the opportunities offered by these organizations and to consider your financial support of their efforts. If you live outside of the Omaha area, please take the time to explore such opportunities for inter-religious dialog in your own community. If such options do not exist where you live, perhaps you may be inspired to take the initiative and start something very special!

• Lessons in Ignatian Spirituality.  I am relatively new to the exploration of Ignatian Spirituality and this past Lent has certainly helped to deepen my understanding of both the terminology and the practice of the lifestyle of prayer outlined by St. Ignatius of Loyola in the sixteenth century. Terms like "examen," "desolation and consolation," "discernment of spirits" and "the two standards" have taken on greater meaning for me as this Lent was not about simply "going through the motions" but was an incredible opportunity to internalize my prayer and spirituality. My prayer experience was a roller-coaster ride filled with many ups and downs throughout the past fifty days or so. That sort of idea used to bother me . . . I wanted every day to be an "up" and by nature am disappointed with the "downs." But if I have learned anything it is the need to be patient in prayer and that there is a sort of symbiotic relationship between the days of enlightenment and the days of disappointment. It all feels real to me in a way it perhaps never has and I am eager to continue my journey knowing that it is necessary for me to lessen my expectations and to simply avail myself to the many graces which God offers.

• All of life is a blessing.  If you have been following my blog throughout Lent you will no doubt have recognized that "gratitude" naturally developed as an over-arching theme and was a word I returned to over and over again. My recognition of this as the main gift being offered by God was affirmed at the Easter Vigil homily. Father had noted that when we meet someone we often ask the question, "How are you?" Our knee-jerk response to this question is very often, "Fine." How boring. How generic. How safe. Instead, Father suggested that when we are asked, "How are you?" as people of faith we must respond, "Blessed!" for we are each truly blessed in countless ways. Sometimes it may be difficult for us to identify these blessings due to the pain, suffering and confusion we find in our lives. But the message of Easter is ultimately one of blessing . . . we are blessed with life and creation and as Christians we are blessed to have been invited to a life in Christ, a life which promises the hope of victory over death and a share in God's limitless love. If someone were to theoretically ask me, "How was your Lent?" I can honestly answer, "It was a blessing!" This Lent fostered within me the disposition to identify the many blessings that fill my life each day and I hope this is a lesson that is not soon forgotten.
• A final word of thanks.  I would like to take one last chance to thank you for walking with me through my Lenten Ramadan (of Sorts). Your prayers, attentiveness and comments encouraged me to keep going when the going got tough and your regular visits to this blog inspired me to keep writing even on nights when I would have rather just gone to bed. I firmly believe that we were created to be in relationship with one another and through that relationship are given a window into the mind of God. When I began this endeavor I did so, in part, as a response to much of the negativity I often find online. At least for a small time I hope that together we created a place of peace, faith and understanding.  All the entries, all the thought and all the prayer of these past six and a half weeks can in no way begin to express what this Lenten Ramadan has meant. Thank you for your part in that.

May God grant you peace in all things.

Some Easter Thoughts

Sitting in church this morning with my family it finally struck me that Lent is over. Although Brandi and I went to a beautiful celebration of the Easter Vigil last night, it wasn't until all four of us were together that I began to experience the real joy of Easter. That is only fitting, since so much of what I have learned about myself, my faith and my God this Lent has been through my family.

It seems that much of my prayer and reflection throughout the Triduum focused on the relationships that Jesus had with his friends and family. This year I had an acute awareness of what their pain, confusion, fear and helplessness may have been as they witnessed the horror of Jesus' murder. One of the many lessons of Easter, however, is that these same people also experienced unexpected and unexplainable consolation, comfort, peace and joy. These relationships between Jesus and his friends were foundational not only for the early Church, but provide valuable insight for us today.

We are communal beings and we need the support and friendship of one another to fully experience the Resurrection. In the coming days we will again hear the post-Resurrection stories of Jesus' various appearances to his disciples. In each of these episodes Jesus is revealed to the community as it is gathered together, whether it be a community of only two on the road to Emmaus, or to his gathered friends in the Upper Room.

More than ever, this Easter for me has been about community. I have experienced the Risen Christ this entire Lent through my wife, children, friends, family, students, the Ignatian Associates community and complete strangers. To all of you I owe a debt of thanks for your prayers and support, your kind words and your questions, your inspiration to me through the example of your own deep and abiding faith. In you I have seen the best of what humanity has to offer as it responds in loving kindness to the call of the Creator.
 
To my Christian friends I offer a prayer of thanksgiving for each of you and I pray that the story of the Resurrection can inspire each of us to see the world through eyes of hope and peace. To my Muslim friends in cyberspace, I offer a prayer of thanksgiving for your fortitude and unrelenting faith in Allah which have inspired this remarkable experience these past six and a half weeks. And for all of us, I pray for an understanding that will lead beyond mere tolerance and toward a compassion that, rooted only in God, will lead us all to a lasting peace.


 

He Is Risen! Alleluia! Alleluia!

"Do not be afraid! I know that you are seeking Jesus the crucified.

He is not here, for he has been raised just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay!"

Matthew 28:5-6

Alleluia! Alleluia!

I intend to write more later, but I did want to take a moment to wish you all a blessed Easter and a joyous celebration of the Resurrection. May not only this day but each and every day be filled with the life, light, hope and joy of the Risen Christ.

The fast is over and it is a New Day.  Happy Easter to you and yours! 

Alleluia! Alleluia!

Day 46: Holy Saturday

 

My childhood memories of Holy Saturday are that it was kind of a day spent in limbo. It didn't carry all the excitement and suspense of Christmas Eve nor all the austerity and sadness of Good Friday. It was more of a day of preparation and recovery. Mom would put some eggs, bread and sausage (and always a bottle of horseradish) for Easter Sunday's meal into a couple of baskets and we would take them to church where Father would bless them as part of a tradition popular among the Poles. Part of the day would be spent coloring eggs and helping in the kitchen, but overall, I always recall the day feeling kind of "numb" to me. Now that I have a few more years under my belt and some deeply personal experiences of death, I might compare the day's feeling to that of a wake: one is emotionally drained from the initial shock of the loss of a loved one, leaving behind a headache, a racing mind and a general sense that the whole thing is surreal and can't be true. This is a dream right? This really can't be happening, can it? 

I really have not had that feeling about Holy Saturday for many years, but I sense that today is going to be like that for me once again . . . torn between the anticipation of what is to come but not being able to fully let go of that which has already happened.

The question du jour yesterday from the friends I ran into at the Walk for Justice was, "I bet you can't wait until Sunday, can you?" (In this sense, I felt a connection to the Muslim experience of Ramadan where it is very common to ask one another, "How is the fast?") Surprisingly, I don't have much of a ready response for that question. For some reason, I felt a bit uneasy talking about it. It made me question one last time whether or not I should have blogged about the fast. It has been a constant internal battle for me trying to come to terms with sharing this deeply personal experience in such a public fashion and I guess it will be that way until the bitter end. "Yeah," I would say, "I will certainly be glad when Easter is here." But deep down there was so much more I could have said. Self-doubt is not one of my more endearing qualities.

About an hour and a half ago I woke up early for what will have been my final pre-sunrise breakfast on what may prove to be one of the longest days this entire Lent. We will be attending the Easter Vigil at 8:00pm and I am presuming that Mass will be about two hours long, potentially making it as much as sixteen hours between meals. As such I have been both looking forward to and dreading this day all week.

And perhaps that is what this day may have been like for Jesus' family and friends. The reality of what happened the day before weighed heavy on their hearts, making this day a painful one full of doubt, fear and lingering sadness. At the same time they must have been looking to the future and asking, "What next? Where do we go from here?"

That is a question I ask myself, "What next? Where do I go from here?" Perhaps the joy of Easter will bring some clarity to this, but I doubt it. In many ways I feel like I have not even begun to understand the meaning of the past forty-six days. Being able to eat whenever I please is not really going to be an answer either. Offering material answers to spiritual questions seems a tactic necessarily doomed to failure. Maybe that is the real gift of this Lenten Ramadan . . . a conditioning of the self into a heightened awareness of what lies beyond the stomach and the mind, a recognition of the God who is both present to me and escapes my grasp at the same time.

Meanwhile, like Jesus' friends I will wait, not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

Day 45: Good Friday

What can I write about Good Friday and the suffering and death of Jesus that hasn't already been written by countless Church Fathers and theologians or preached in a million homilies and sermons in churches across the globe throughout history? Nothing, I presume, and that is fine. I am just one of billions of people on this planet trying to make sense of the historical events of this day and I would be foolish to think that I possess a depth of insight that can offer anything.

All of Lent has been building up to these moments and here I sit in front of the computer uncertain of what to write. It is the morning of Good Friday and I am not sure when I will have the opportunity to do this later. With the Walk for Justice, a three hour car ride to my in-laws and what will no doubt be a busy evening with playing kids and conversation, the only thing I am certain of today is that this is the one and only time I will be available to write.

And so I am empty.

And maybe emptiness is one of the myriad meanings of this day. We often hear of Jesus "emptying himself" on the cross, and that is true enough, but the emptiness of which I am thinking is the emptiness of hopelessness and abandonment and fear. That is something that speaks to me each Good Friday . . . the emptiness I feel as a human being for what we not only did to Jesus some two thousand years ago but the emptiness which comes from not learning our lesson. How many people today must feel the same hopelessness and abandonment expressed by Jesus in his final moments of life as we know it as he cried out, "My God! My God! Why have you abandoned me!" How many people today feel this through their mourning, their poverty, their imprisonment, their victimization at the hands of another, their spiraling further and further into the depths of addiction, their unplanned pregnancy, their impending deportation, their job loss, their physical limitations, their psychological state, their political oppression, their firsthand experience of the destruction of war and violence or any untold other afflictions that haunt the human family day in and day out.

I believe in my heart that these days of the Triduum speak to that kind of emptiness. To ignore that there is suffering is to be naive. To sugar-coat the suffering of others by glibly saying that "It is God's will" or "It will be OK," as well-intentioned as it may be, fails to recognize the genuine pain that is so real in our lives. To say that Jesus, due to his divinity, was able to overcome the pain of the cross in some super-human way because he knew what it was all about seems not only to be a borderline heresy, but it ignores the reality of the Incarnation. God became human and knows the pain we feel. I don't see the cross as some glorification of suffering or the final proof that Jesus suffered more than we will ever know. I see the cross as Jesus' complete and total identification of our suffering and the affirmation that God is with us in our humanity no matter what. Jesus did not suffer to attract our attention and adoration. He did not suffer to prove to us once and for all that he is the Messiah. He did not suffer so that we would be repulsed to the point where we felt we would have no choice but to receive his message see his death as salvific. Jesus' suffering is the ultimate act of meeting us where we are. It is an affirmation that our suffering is real, that he shares in it, that the forces of darkness in this world often seem to prevail against even the most innocent and holy among us.

What makes this day even remotely tolerable, of course, is the fact that we have the benefit of knowing how the story ends. What ultimately allows us to swallow this bitter pill is the knowledge of what happens on Easter morning. But Jesus' closest friends did not have the luxury of that knowledge. His mother did not have that source of comfort. It is a point of theological debate as to what extent Jesus himself even knew of the outcome. And even in our own suffering, as we live amidst the cloud of doubt and uncertainty that is the human condition, even for those of us with the deepest conviction of faith we may find only a little peace at the moment of our greatest anguish.

Knowing the end of the story, however, is not a cop out. It is essential. That is at the very heart of the gospel message.

But today we are empty and that cannot be denied. I pray that Easter will forever come and that we will not lose hope in the face of that emptiness.

Day 44: Holy Thursday

This evening's liturgy at St. John's at Creighton was beautiful. From the moment the entire congregation joined in the heartfelt singing of "Holy God We Praise Thy Name" and the scent of incense began to permeate the air until the final, solemn moments when the altar was stripped, I felt not only a close attachment to everyone gathered in faith in that sacred space, but also a communion with Christians throughout the world who join in prayer and remembrance of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ in these Holy Days of the Triduum. I also felt intense hunger since Mass began at 7:30 and lasted an hour and forty-five minutes, making it fifteen hours between meals today. 

One of the unique aspects of the Holy Thursday liturgy is the "washing of the feet," a symbolic recollection of the thirteenth chapter of John's Gospel and Jesus' action of humbling himself to cleanse the feet of his friends. I have always found this to be a powerful story and its subsequent inclusion in the Holy Thursday Mass is poignant and moving. Father Roc O'Connor was the presider this evening and he offered an inspiring and thought-provoking homily. As he plumbed the relationship between Jesus and Peter in this Gospel story, he paid special note to Peter's response to Jesus' desire to wash his feet. He suggested that Peter's refusal was out of a fear of being challenged to be someone and do something that he did not want. I had often considered Peter's noncompliance as the result of the dynamics of a master/servant relationship (which it, in part, may have been), but I had never thought of it as fear. 

This notion hit home with me and my experience throughout this Lent. I am as aware as ever of the choices I make in life that are based in the fear of needing to change. The fear of living more simply and what that means I will need to let go of. The fear of being more available to people and how that will cut into "me time" and what I deem important. The fear of people who are different than me and how seeing others as images of Christ necessarily shakes my world up a bit. The fear of not having all the answers and taking the risk to being vulnerable, open and honest with others. In some ways I have made small strides in some of these areas this Lent. In other ways I am only begin to realize these fears exist.

I am deeply moved by the way that St. John's includes the washing of feet within the liturgy. Many parishes choose twelve people ahead of time to represent the apostles in a sort of reenactment. But at St. John's everyone is invited to get up and go to one of several stations throughout the church and to have her or his feet washed and, in turn, wash the feet of another. I intended to participate in this before we even went to Mass. What I had not anticipated was that Aidan would also want to participate. Here is a small way that I have been changed this Lent . . . when he leaned over and said that he'd like to have his feet washed, instead of telling him, "No, it's only for adults," I told him, "Sure." I was proud that he wanted to be a part of things and I do not ever want to discourage anything that can serve as a positive faith experience and reminder for him down the road. 

Washing my seven year old son's feet was something I cannot find the words for right now. It struck me that being a parent is, in many ways, a life of service. It was my way of telling him, "there is nothing I won't do for you." I have no illusions that he understood it that way, but it became a sort of recommitment on my behalf to what it means for me to be a father and husband.

In retrospect, I have one regret . . . because he was a little nervous, I let Aidan bow out of having to wash my feet. Perhaps it was for the best or perhaps, like Peter, I was afraid and not yet ready to be open to the challenges that such an action would present. In this simple choice is all the evidence I need to show me how far I have yet to grow.

Day 43: Six Week Update

It is hard to believe it has been six weeks.  Where did the time go?  Here's my final weekly offering of miscellaneous ramblings:

• Omaha as "inter-faith capital of the world?"  From beyond the world of Lenten Ramadan comes this wonderful column from this past Sunday's Omaha World Herald. The "Tri-Faith Initiative" is an Omaha partnership between Temple Israel, The Episcopal Diocese of Nebraska and The American Institute of Islamic Studies and Culture. The current vision of the group is to create an "inter-faith campus" that would include Jewish, Muslim and Christian houses of worship as well as shared space for conferences, workshops and ongoing education and dialog. David Liepert, a Canadian Muslim author and radio host, is quoted as saying that he thinks this venture may be the first of its kind in the world. Hope for peace and understanding springs forth from the fertile soil of America's heartland! 

• And the award for dumbest decision goes to . . .  Looking back on Lenten Ramadan I have to say that the most foolish (and dangerous!) decision I made was to observe the fast while skiing in Colorado. You may recall my experience from Days Three and Four. Skiing pretty hard on Day Three without eating anything and without drinking water was ill-advised and downright dumb. I am certain that Friday night I was suffering from either dehydration or altitude sickness or a combination of both. Only after returning to Omaha and doing some further research did I discover that one is not expected to fast while traveling during Ramadan. Oops. Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose and I should have looked into this prior to the trip. In my defense it was the third and fourth days of Lent and I was very excited and energized for Lenten Ramadan. If we had gone skiing in Week Three I doubt this would have happened.  C'est la vie.

• Things I am most looking forward to in a post-Lent world.  Yesterday several students asked me what I was looking forward to most about Lent being over. There are so many things! The first thing I am looking forward to is the joyful celebration of Easter Sunday. We will be at my in-laws where there is always an abundant spread of food at holidays. Usually I try to hold back and take it easy, not wanting any particular holiday go too much to my waistband, but this year . . . no holds barred! I promise the family that I will try my best to share. In particular, I look forward to the Polish sausage from Frank Stoysich Meats, where I have been procuring this Easter tradition for the past ten years. I always associate good, quality, homemade Polish sausage with Easter ever since my childhood in Indiana (all apologies to my vegetarian friends). A second thing I am looking forward to is sleeping in on the weekends. I am not a huge "late sleeper," but on a Saturday I do enjoy staying in bed until 7:30 or 8:00. During Lenten Ramadan I have had to rise earlier and earlier on the weekends so I can make sure I eat before sunrise. I will welcome this change with open arms and closed eyelids. A third area of anticipation is in being able to eat meals with everyone else. The food will be fresh and hot and I won't feel so voyeuristic watching (and hearing!) other people eat. I'll feel like part of the family again. I am very interested to see how this effects how I eat throughout the day. I foresee less snacking and much more self-control in my eating habits. We shall see. At any rate, as wonderful as this entire experience has been, I am ready to return to "normal."

• Triduum plans.  I always look forward to the celebration of the Triduum, but since the birth of our kids I have not attended the services as often as I would like. This year I am certainly making it a point to fully experience these beautiful liturgies in all their symbolic glory. The evening of Holy Thursday will find us at a soup supper with the Ignatian Associates followed by the Mass of the Lord's Supper at St. John's at Creighton. Mass is at 7:30 and so dinner for me tomorrow night will be pushed back a bit. On Good Friday I will be at the "Walk for Justice" in downtown Omaha. It is a traditional Stations of the Cross which also focuses our prayer for those in our world who suffer crucifixions daily due to the injustices perpetuated by our social structures. If you are in the Omaha area, I encourage you to attend. Bring your walking shoes! I may or may not attend Good Friday services at our parish in the afternoon. It all depends on the timing. Holy Saturday we will be at my in-laws in central Nebraska. I have not attended the Easter Vigil in several years and am eager to be at the Mass celebrated by one of my very best friends who is a priest in Kearney, Nebraska. The Vigil will certainly pose one last challenge. It starts before sunset at 8:00pm and typically runs in the ballpark of one and a half to two hours. Afterwards, we plan on celebrating the Resurrection with libations and the world's best onion rings at "The Cellar." I just might have an entire basket all to myself!  

• One last weigh-in.  A final step on the scale today indicated that I had not lost any additional weight in the past week. My total weight loss for the six weeks of Lent has been ten pounds. I am glad the weight started coming off more slowly toward the end, but I am not sure why as I really did not feel like a changed much in my eating habits this past week from what I had done earlier in Lent. Perhaps my body has just become accustomed to the fasting. At any rate, it is a slimmer me now than on March 9. I am eager to begin some exercise too. I generally avoided strenuous exercise during Lent out of fear of the dehydration I experienced in Colorado. But now I think I am motivated to get up and get moving.

• Shukran.  Or "thank you" in Arabic. Thank you to everyone who has asked a question, said a prayer, posted a comment, passed Lenten Ramadan on to a friend, "liked" a post on facebook or just stumbled upon the blog through a Google search of "ramadan lent pants" (I kid you not). Thank you as well for your openness to seeing Christianity and Islam in what may perhaps be a different light than you are accustomed to. Today has seen the highest traffic yet on the blog and there have been nearly 1400 pageviews since Ash Wednesday. Maybe together we can change the attitudes of fear and suspicion that so often permeate discussions of religion in our world. 

Day 42: Tuesday of Holy Week

Brrrrrrr.  Tonight was the first baseball game in the new TD Ameritrade Park in Omaha, the new home of the College World Series.  I was fortunate to receive two free tickets from the sister of a friend and decided to take Aidan to see Creighton play Nebraska.  I have been to countless baseball games in my life, but this was undoubtedly the coldest game of them all.  It was 40 degrees at the first pitch and certainly did not get any warmer thereafter. But I enjoyed every minute of it. I am truly blessed to have a wonderful family with whom I enjoy spending so much of my time.

I know I have spoken a great deal these past six weeks about gratitude.  I have learned an appreciation for the little things in my life that I often take for granted: the availability of food and water, a job I love, great friends and family, two awesome kids. I am also tremendously grateful for my wonderful wife Brandi who has been a tremendous source of support for me throughout this Lent.

There are many things about Brandi for which I am grateful. She is a fantastic nurturer for our kids. She is a great "teammate" and companion in parenting, financial decisions, our dreams for the future and living our shared values. She is a dedicated advocate for children whose home lives are less than ideal and whose opportunities for success in life are few. She shares the "travel bug" with me. She is a woman who manages to remain positive and hopeful despite a recent string of family tragedies that would sap the energy from any other ordinary human being. The list could go on and on.  But one thing I have really come to appreciate about her this Lent is that she lets me be me.

I know my Lenten discipline has been a real trial for her.  I sense that it has been frustrating for her that we all have not been able to eat meals together thanks to my fasting.  I imagine she is probably so tired of hearing me talk about this Lenten Ramadan thing that she is about ready to scream.  I know for a fact that the time I spend blogging in the evening has often stifled conversations and gotten me to bed later than usual.  I recall more than one time when she encouraged me to reconsider the fasting because she didn't want me to feel left out of special occasions or family gatherings.

But she never complained about it.

And that is what I am most grateful for from Brandi in the here and now. She let me follow through with this hair-brained idea unimpeded. She never called me crazy or rolled her eyes or questioned my motives. She sensed that, for whatever reason, this was something I felt very strongly about and she let me be. Heck, I think she may have actually been happy that I found something to get so excited about in life. It has been a real gift to have that freedom and that support. Without it this Lent would not have been the tremendous experience that it has become.

I love her very much and she is my best friend and my greatest confidante. She is a blessing from God without whom I would feel lost and lonely in this world. I look forward to having her by my side for the rest of my life.

I love you Brandi.  Thank you for everything.

Day 41: Monday of Holy Week

Throughout my Lenten Ramadan I have been blessed to have so many friends and family members who have been supportive and understanding.  If people think that what I am doing is a little strange they certainly have not mentioned it to me.  I have to admit, this was one of the things I was most anxious about heading into Lent.  I was concerned that people either wouldn't care enough to try and understand, see me as some sort of religious zealot or get the impression that this was attention seeking behavior.  Instead, I have found myself participating in wonderful conversations in the classroom, at the dinner table and in social settings.  One such interaction took place this evening.  

It was our friends' turn to host dinner as they often do on Monday nights. After the meal, as the kids were playing outside, we had an enjoyable, impromptu "question and answer" about Lenten Ramadan.  The questions were excellent and may perhaps be ones you have as well. Below is a "transcript," to the best of my recollection, of some of the highlights of the conversation.  My apologies in advance to my dinner companions for anything either omitted or embellished.

Has the whole experience been more difficult or less difficult than you anticipated going in?

That's a tough question.  The entire experience of fasting in this manner is a new experience to me and is unlike anything I have ever done before.  But it has not been unmanageable or overly burdensome.  It certainly has been a tremendous challenge, but I think I prepared myself well enough for this in advance that I was braced for it.  If you go back to the very first post in my blog you will find that it was in November. There were few days between then and March 9 when I wasn't turning the idea over in my head.  

That being said, I anticipated that there would be a point where I would not be able to handle it any longer and break down.  I didn't think I would ever fully give up the venture, but I did foresee myself slipping in a moment of weakness.  Given my track record in past Lents I assumed that this would be the case.  But I can say with complete truthfulness that I have not broken any of the guidelines I originally set for in the Ground Rules. I know there are still six days to go, but I have made it this far and there is no way I am going to give in now.  After all, this is Holy Week and I am looking forward to my celebration of the Triduum to provide the fuel I need to get to Easter Sunday.

Has it gotten easier or harder as time has gone on?

If you would have asked me this question two weeks ago I would have said it was getting easier, but the past week has been especially grueling. Psychologically I think knowing that I have to wait just a little longer to eat each day than I did the day before has worn on me. You may recall that Saturday was particularly difficult. As a follow-up, I never mentioned that the Dundee Dell was packed on Saturday night and I was put on a waiting list. I felt a little weird waiting for a table for one and after fifteen minutes decided to walk to Goldberg's instead (where the Reuben is second to none). As a result I did not eat until about 8:45, making it about fourteen and half hours since breakfast. Lately I have been increasingly aware of the extreme nature of my hunger and the discomfort it causes, but I have certainly become better at managing my previously noted crabbiness. I should also say that what may be easy for one person may be extremely difficult for another and vice versa. I have a friend who has gone all of Lent without drinking a beer and she is extremely proud of that, as well she should be . . . I may be able to not eat from sunrise until sunset but don't know if I could do that!  

How has the experience of blogging been for you?

Blogging has been one of the most valuable things about this entire experience. I have always enjoyed writing but often feel like I don't have anything worth writing about. Lenten Ramadan has given me a ready-made topic on which to focus and I have, on most days, enjoyed writing about it. I generally write in the evenings and there were a couple of times when I really felt tired and definitely did not want to sit down at the computer. There were other days when I did sit down to write and had no idea what thoughts I was going to put down (today was one of those days). Knowing I needed to blog each day has kept me honest too.  I don't know if I could have pulled through this Lenten Ramadan if you were not holding me accountable in this way. Thank you!

Without hesitation, however, I would say that the greatest benefit blogging has provided is that it has become my daily "Examen." In the tradition of Ignatian spirituality the Examen is a time to reflect on the events of the day (or the previous day). The Examen allows one to be open to seeing where God was either found or missed that day.  It helps one to note the day's joys and pains, successes and failures and in doing so, to recognize gratitude for God's constant attentiveness to one's being. Writing has helped me sift though my thoughts and experiences in search of that sliver of meaning to be found in each day. While I cannot foresee myself continuing to blog, I do see the value in the practice of journaling and I hope to be able to maintain that practice at least on a personal and private level.

Are there things that you choose not to blog about?  

While I have tried to be as honest and forthright as possible in each of my blog entries, there are certainly things I choose not to share. With the exception of this entry (!) I have also made efforts to be succinct, knowing there is no way to possibly share an entire day's experience . . . I wouldn't have the time to write it and you wouldn't have the time to read it. I have made every effort to protect the identity of family and friends, only using names after I have received permission. I have also intentionally not included photographs of friends or loved ones.  Life is a mystery and I believe that leaving some things to the imagination is a good thing.

It seems like this entire experience may be a significant "marking" for you.  Do you think years from now you will look back on the Lent of 2011 as an important time in your life?

Absolutely!  In fact, I would go so far as to say that this may be one of the most significant spiritual experiences of my entire life.  There are times when I have been brought to tears either in my prayer or in my attempts to explain what Lenten Ramadan has meant to me.  It has been profound beyond explanation and I have been comparing it lately to being on an intense forty day retreat.  In that regard, I almost do not want Lent to end . . . I want to continue what God has begun in me and I pray that I will always vividly remember the many lessons I have learned these past forty-one days.

As Lent draws to a close, perhaps you have a question or two about my Lenten Ramadan journey.  Feel free to post any questions you have in the "comment" section below and I promise to respond with greater brevity than can be found in today's post.

Day 40: Palm Sunday

Image from pts.edu

"The crowds preceding him and those following

kept crying out and saying:

'Hosanna to the Son of David;

blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord;

hosanna in the highest.'” Mt. 21:9

Today the great drama begins.  Holy Week is upon us and, even though Lent is drawing to a close, the fullness of these past forty days is only now beginning to come into focus.  And that is a hard thing for me to say. These past forty days have given me a focus I have rarely experienced in my life, but I believe that each of these days has been drawing me to what may be a deep and personal encounter with Jesus Christ this week as we Christians commemorate his suffering, death and resurrection.

The first words of the opening prayer for today's liturgy contained the line, "these past five weeks."  Upon hearing this phrase this morning I began to break into tears. These past five weeks have been a tremendous gift.  A remarkable journey.  A forty day retreat built within the context of my daily life.  My tears were tears of gratitude.  I have been truly blessed to receive so many graces this Lent.  If only for a small time, my eyes have been opened and my heart has been softened to the love and compassion of God.  To say that it has changed me would perhaps be an overstatement, for only time itself will tell the true story of what my Lenten Ramadan has revealed.  But I sense that this has been an important step for me in internalizing a faith that has always been important to me but which has not always been lived authentically and with life.

As I have begun this week I am seeing the story of Christ's passion through new lenses.  In the past, Lent has always meant austerity, suffering, a reflection on my sinfulness.  But this Lent has been very much different.  This may sound ironic since I have never lived a Lent in more austere fashion.  But there has been something about my fasting that has been liberating, hopeful, joyous.  Despite my hunger and my quasi-asceticism I have found a fullness that is most difficult to explain, but perhaps can be boiled down to this . . .  

I am living for the resurrection.

Each of these past forty days my eyes have been focused inward and outward. Inward to the hunger that is present through most of the day, yet outward to the face of Christ in family, friends, students, colleagues and strangers.  Inward in self-reflection as I have come to know myself in a more honest and intimate way, yet outward to Muslims and Jews, believers and non-believers as I have sought to understand the lives and faiths and doubts of others.  Inward to the present moment, yet outward in anticipation of the week we are now beginning.  Inward to the small sufferings I have encountered, yet outward to the resurrection.  

As Christians we have this tendency to be people of the cross and not people of the empty tomb.  Our primary symbol is one of suffering and agony.  We dwell on our sinfulness and our unworthiness. "To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears."  Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.  But many times we get stuck there.  Many times, in dwelling on our own sinfulness, we cannot see beyond ourselves and into the suffering of others.  Many times we see this world as a punishment instead of a gift.  Many times we bow our heads in shame instead of gazing into the eyes of the One who loves us and calls us into a relationship and not to cower in fear.

Please do not misunderstand me.  I believe that sin is real.  I know that suffering is real (I watch the news and I have a pulse).  I believe that Jesus' own death was very real.  But Jesus did not die to receive our sympathy.  Jesus did not die to put on a show.  Jesus did not die to somehow be the answer to some sort of convoluted cosmic calculus equation, the x answer of which equals salvation.  Jesus' death is a death that shows us how to live.  If this were not the case, then Lent would end with Good Friday and not on Easter Sunday.  This story is a story of hope, not catastrophe.

But who knows.  My mind and heart may change this week.  If I have learned anything these past five weeks it is that a life of faith is a life of fits and starts, new revelations in unusual places and expectations just aching to be disappointed.  But if I have learned anything else these past five weeks it has also been to rejoice in God's presence now and to hope in the promise of the future.

And so Holy Week begins.  May we all not only journey to the cross and to the grave with Jesus this week, but more importantly, to the light of new life and the unanticipated possibilities of his resurrection.

Day 39: Football, Family and Food (Well, Kind Of)

A beautiful, sun-splashed day at Memorial Stadium.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, this Lent has proven time and again the old adage that "a way to a man's heart is through his stomach."  But I might amend this statement further to read . . . "if no food is available to placate said man's hunger, then football would be a good second option."  Today we went to the University of Nebraska "Spring Game" in Lincoln.  What could be better than football in April?  Well, lunch in April, I suppose.

To dove-tail on yesterday's post, I am finding that the closer I am getting to Easter the more difficult this fasting becomes.  Forgive me for whining, but even with football to watch, food was about the only thing I could think about all day.  I woke up early to eat something before sunrise and it turned out to not be nearly enough.  

So far this Lent I had managed to avoid going out to eat with the family (the lone exception being the second day when we stopped for lunch on the way to Colorado), mostly this is because I don't expect everyone to wait for me until they eat.  Well, today it happened not once, but twice.  We met Brandi's aunt and uncle (with whom we went to the game) and mother for breakfast before we headed to Lincoln.  You may recall that the one time we did go out it was a bit awkward for me when I had to tell the waitress I didn't want anything to drink or eat.  This time I asked for an ice water (which remained untouched) and I told the server I would just share someone else's food.  This was a bit of an untruth, I realize, but it is far better than having to explain Lenten Ramadan in a busy restaurant on a Saturday morning.  In the end, breakfast was no big deal.  I had eaten about three hours earlier and was still somewhat satisfied.

The problems began when we arrived in Lincoln.  We had to park about a half mile away in a parking garage.  To get to the stadium we had to walk through downtown, passing countless restaurants and tailgaters along the way.  En route, my olfactory nerves experienced a full-frontal assault from the likes of bratwursts, hamburgers, french fries, barbecue, soup, fried chicken, coffee and several other odors the likes of which could not be determined but which registered in my brain as "absolutely delicious."  Then we sat down.  Soon a second sortie was conducted by vendors of pizza, popcorn and "Runzas," a local delicacy which could best be described as bread stuffed with hamburger and other goodies.  And this went on and on.  For.  Three.  Hours. 

After the game we of course had to run the gauntlet back to the car which included, once again, all of the wafting scents mentioned above (only in reverse order) plus the wonderful smell of fresh pastries from Panera Bread into which we had to take a detour in order for Nicholas to use the bathroom. And I'm still not finished.

Upon arriving back in Omaha we went to dinner at the Upstream with Brandi's aunt and uncle.  This happens to be one of my favorite places in town.  Not only do they have a deliciously creative twist on classic pub fare, but they also brew their own beer!  This was absolute torture!  Again, I ordered an ice water and pulled the same trick as in the morning.  

I am so hungry that right now I would eat this computer if I weren't afraid the silicon in the processor would somehow give me stomach cancer.  As soon as I post this I am heading out the door and going for a walk to another favorite establishment, The Dundee Dell.  I'm going by myself and I am going to have a hot meal for the first time all week.  And I will savor it.  And I will thank God for it.  And I will wash it down with an ice cold beer.  By the time you read this, I most certainly will have said,  "Ahhhhh-men."

Day 38: The Pain of Hunger

If these next two and a half hours are any indicator, the next eight days are going to seem as long as the last thirty-eight days combined.  This hasn't happened much this Lent, but right now I am confronted with a situation where I am a bit more idle than usual.  Brandi is in Kansas City today for her uncle's funeral and I am home with the boys.  It being Friday there are no pressing school matters that need my immediate attention. This would usually be a quiet, relaxing time that I would look forward to, but to be honest, I am bored.  It has rained all day so we are cooped up in the house. So I find myself sitting down here by myself confronting my hunger.

Hunger is an uncomfortable feeling unlike any other.  I don't know if it can really be classified as "pain" per se.  It's not sharp or piercing and there's no blood. It doesn't strike at a nerve or break any bones. It's neither inexplicable nor out of the ordinary.  And unlike most other pains, it is both preventable and easily treatable.  Ibuprofen can be hit or miss for a headache. A trip to the doctor may or may not alleviate pain.  A visit to the hospital may actually cause more  pain before getting to the cause of the ache (assuming it can at all).  But the fix for hunger is simple and quick . . . a glass of water, a few bites of bread or fruit or veggies and, voila!  No more hunger!

So why do we fast?  Why do we willfully inflict this mild discomfort on ourselves?  Are we masochists?  There are many reasons, of course, and I have tried to examine these at least in part throughout this Lent, but right now I am sensing solidarity . . . a solidarity of sadness and compassion for those in our world who suffer from hunger everyday.  What for me is mild discomfort is to many others a way of life.  What I have whined and complained about this Lent is for others not a choice but a situation they neither asked for nor deserved.  What for me can be alleviated by a few short steps to the refrigerator, a trip to the supermarket or a drive to any number of fast-food joints within five minutes, is for too many others a terminal illness with no cure in sight.

I feel guilt.  Guilt for ever complaining about being hungry.  Ever.  Guilt for looking forward to eating as soon as sunset arrives. Guilt for being complicit in a culture which tells us we need more, more, more.  Guilt for participating in a system which fights for tax breaks for those who can have whatever they want when they want it at the expense of eliminating opportunities and necessities for those who struggle for the basics day in and day out.  Guilt. Guilt for having so much when others have so little.   

Day 37: Planning for Life After Lent

In all my anticipation for Easter and the end of Lent I seem to have overlooked one important detail:  What is life going to be like for me when my Lenten Ramadan is over?  I really had not given it much thought until I met with my spiritual director today and he asked me that very question.  It dawned on me that I really need to seriously be making a plan.

I have heard it said that it takes something like three weeks to break a habit.  Well, Lent is over twice that long, making me wonder how long it takes to start a new habit and if my various new routines these past five weeks are bordering on habitual.  I have written a great deal about how this entire experience has been very meaningful to me.  Gratitude, simplicity, prayer and awareness of things beyond my nose have all revealed themselves as significant lessons.  What I had not really considered is . . . what next?

Trust me, I am not worried that I will have forgotten how to eat lunch.  I will welcome that habit back with open arms!  What I am wondering about is how I can maintain the routine of prayer that I have established and which I have found to be both valuable and necessary.  I always used to think that the morning was the best time for me to pray . . . the house is quiet, the day is fresh, a time to focus before the craziness starts.  But the problem with early morning prayer is that I’m not quite awake yet, there is too much activity looming on the horizon and, quite honestly, I need my sleep and my day starts early enough as it is.  To actually get out of bed, fully wake up and center myself for prayer, I’d have to wake up at 4:30am . . . and that ain’t gonna happen.  Evenings are generally a train wreck as far as prayer is concerned.  I am exhausted from the day, have dinner to prepare, need to spend time with Brandi and the boys, have school work to do . . it’s just not very conducive for prayer either.

What I have really enjoyed and what has been really productive for me in prayer this Lent has been this middle of the day time that has carved itself out due to the fasting.  By noon my day has hit a rhythm, I am alert and things have already happened that give me pause and provide fodder for thought and prayer.  The problem is, after Easter I am going to resume eating lunch with my colleagues and this chunk of time will no longer be available to me.  There is some time here and there throughout the day but I typically use it for lesson planning and other school related business.

So from my vantage point it boils down to this: something has to give.  It might be rising earlier, staying up later or squeezing out some time midday.  I am not sure right now which one of those "somethings" it's going to be, but whatever it is, it will require sacrifice of time and discipline; two areas I think I have learned a lot about these past five weeks.

Day 36: Five Week Update

Only two more of these updates left!  Spring has sprung, Lent is waning and Easter is looming on the horizon.  Here are a few ramblings:

• First things first.  This morning's sunrise was breathtaking!

• Working overtime.  Typically Ramadan is twenty-nine to thirty days long.  Not counting Sundays and the Solemnity of the Annunciation (days when I did not fast this Lent), today is the thirtieth day of my Lenten Ramadan fast.  Counting today, there are still ten days of fasting remaining, making Lent a bit longer than Ramadan. Of course, Muslims don't have the luxury of breaking the fast at all during Ramadan, and I am certainly not claiming to have "outdone" anyone here. This never was about competition but about faith and understanding.

• Leftovers are better than nothing . . . I guess.  I know I have mentioned this before, but it is worth noting again: I am absolutely sick of eating food warmed up in the microwave.  I haven't really been keeping track, but I imagine I have only eaten freshly prepared hot meals four or five times in the past five weeks. Of course, I realize this is still more than many people in our world get.  It is simply something I am not used to.  Not eating with everyone else has been one of the biggest challenges this Lent, and not just for me.  Brandi has commented numerous times that she can't wait for Lent to be over so we can all eat together again.

• Tic-toc, on the clock.  It is amazing how rapidly daylight has been added over the past five weeks. When I started on March 9 there were 11 hours and 37 minutes of daylight.  As of yesterday there were 13 hours and 11 minutes, an increase of one hour and 34 minutes.  This is something I never really paid much attention to in the past but it has been remarkable to witness.  While most of me very much enjoys the longer days (especially the later sunsets), it does increase the length of each day's fast.  Mornings are becoming more of a challenge too.  At the start of Lent it was no problem to eat breakfast because the sun was rising after I left for work, but now I have to hurry to get breakfast in.  I hate to eat too early since it is so long until dinner. One of the things I am most eager about is getting my Saturday mornings back to sleep in a bit. As it stands, I have to wake up early in order to eat breakfast . . . although I have been known to return to bed for a bit afterwards. I am certainly much more aware of what spring means this year!

• Almsgiving update.  Last week I mentioned the importance of giving alms during Lent.  While I have not yet determined a total amount (and I'll probably keep that confidential anyway) I think I am going to split it in half and donate half to Catholic Relief Services.  CRS consistently has one of the lowest overheads of any charitable organization and more of your dollar goes directly to those in need than with most other groups.  I am thinking about donating the other half to Project Interfaith, an organization I have mentioned here several times.  The blend of feeding the hungry and promoting inter-religious dialog seems like a good fit for my Lenten Ramadan.

• Weight watchers.  It's looking like I'm down ten pounds in five weeks.  The weight loss really seems to have slowed down a bit and that is fine with me.  It may have slowed down because I have tried to eat just a little bit more in the evenings.  We've had a lot of leftovers in the fridge from the family reunion on Saturday and I can't let all that perfectly good food go to waste!

• And in the spirit of gratitude . . . I want to offer you all a thanks once again. Lenten Ramadan has surpassed 1000 page views and, on average, receives over 30 views a day.  Recently a number of page views have been consistently coming from Thailand and Denmark.  This truly is a small world! Thanks too for those who have posted comments, especially "kat" who is the first Muslim to have done so and whose insights on Ramadan and fasting I have greatly appreciated this past week.  When I began this journey part of my hope was to create understanding and respect between faiths instead of the fear and animosity that is more often reported in the media. At least for me personally, this has certainly been the case and I hope it has for you too.

Day 35: Ring Ceremony

The calm before the storm.

Growing up, I always wanted to be an architect.  I enjoy the spaces we create for ourselves. The homes we live in, the buildings we work and play in and the structures we worship in are more than just four walls and a roof.  They are the products of great creativity and become the environments that mirror the things we value.  Consequently, I have always been a sucker for places.  I love to explore interesting architecture and to travel and visit places that are inspiring or of historical significance . . . the spaces we shaped and the spaces that shaped us.

Yesterday I mentioned how much at home I feel in our school's chapel.  It is one of those spaces that has great meaning for many.  For over 125 years it has been a place of refuge and ritual for thousands of students and faculty. We gather there regularly for liturgies, honors assemblies and guest speakers.  It is a place where we share our talents with dance and music for Christmas programs.  It is a space where we congregated seemingly by instinct the morning of September 11, 2001 and a space where we have remembered the lives of colleagues, alumnae and family members who have died.  It is also a place of great celebration, and today was such a day.

It is a tradition in Sacred Heart schools that seniors present the juniors with their class rings.  The ring is a symbol of faith, learning, service, community and family and many alums continue to wear their rings as they chase their children through the park or rock their grandchildren to sleep at night.  The day of Ring Ceremony is one of the most joyous days of the school year.  The juniors have been waiting for this day for at least three years and the seniors are passing on the torch of leadership as they prepare to depart us.  The ceremony is full of laughter, smiles, tears and hugs.  It is a very special day in the life of our school and is a ritual that reminds us who we are and gives us a sense of direction and purpose.

Gratitude has emerged as the dominant theme for me this Lent and today's Ring Ceremony provided another opportunity to be thankful.  As I watched the genuine sense of pride in the faces of the seniors and the unadulterated joy in that of the juniors, I was grateful for what this place has meant for me and for countless others.  I have taught and learned from so many wonderful young people, have had the great honor to work with a dedicated and inspiring faculty and have built friendships not only with people in my school but also with many others from Sacred Heart schools throughout the country. God has truly blessed me to be a part of this great endeavor and to work in a place that is more than bricks and mortar, more than walls and ceilings, more than stairs and windows.  I am fortunate to work side by side with people who have become my family and in a place that is also my home.

Day 34: A Sign of Hope

I was happy to return to the chapel in the middle of the day today.  I think that part of my feeling scattered and frustrated this weekend had to do with being out of a routine.  It was a busy weekend with a family reunion, friends for dinner on Saturday, a soccer game, Cub Scouts, baseball practice and Ignatian Associates.  I am not complaining . . . those are the choices we make, but in the meantime it was difficult to find the quiet time I so desperately need to focus and pray when so much of the time I felt like, "Go, go go!"

While today was nothing spectacular, it was the kind of day I needed at this point.  I am ready for Lent to be over and the school day provides a rhythm that more or less keeps my mind from wandering too much.
So I was looking forward to some quiet prayer in the chapel at lunch time.

I entered prayer asking God to help open my eyes to the ordinary ways God is present in my life.  An emerging theme I have found throughout this Lent is an abiding sense of gratitude (perhaps that is what I was missing this weekend more than anything else) and that theme once again resurfaced today.

I teach seniors who are anxious for many things right now.  Of course, they are anxious to graduate in a few short weeks and to begin the next chapter of their lives.  But with this also comes the anxiety of the uncertainty of leaving familiar places and faces to venture out into the unknown.  And before that happens many are also anxious as they still await news of college acceptances and financial aid packages.  It is understandable why they are a bit stressed.

They had their senior retreat this past Friday and Saturday.  Today when I asked them how the retreat was, the responses were invariably, "Great!" "Awesome!" "We all bonded so much!  We needed this!"  I haven't seen that much energy and excitement out of them in months!  I enjoy the great blessing of teaching at a school where each person is valued.  No place is perfect, but this is a place where respect and concern for others always seems to win out in the end.  I have been very blessed to have taught these students when they were ninth graders and it has been a real gift to teach them again as seniors.  They are kind to one another, good natured, exceptionally bright and full of life.  I am inspired by them and they give me hope in the future. And for that I am grateful.

Day 33: A Dry Patch

"And these [seeds] are the ones sown on rocky ground who, when they hear the word, receive it at once with joy.  But they have no root; they last only for a time."  Mk 4:16-17

Follow-through is not one of my strong suits.  Ask my wife.  My bed side table contains a stack of books that are only two-thirds finished before I pick up another book to continue the cycle.  Our nearly twelve years of marriage is littered with slow-moving home improvement projects that stall out, eventually finished only after much pushing and prodding (or with the assistance of a professional).  And don't forget the failed diet plans, fitness plans and plans to ride my bike more and drive the car less.

This is a problem I am confronting right now with Lent and it has led to a bit of a dry patch for me.  Truthfully, I have never had a Lent where I have stuck through with my discipline for the entire forty days.  It's the same reason I have so many unfinished books, a bathroom remodel disaster to my credit and ideas for better health down the drain . . . it's just not in my nature. I feel very much like the seed thrown on the rocky soil in the Parable of the Sower (Mk 4:1-20).  To start with I am full of ambition, great ideas and genuine excitement.  But then life happens, I lose focus and forget what it was that drove me to begin whatever venture is the crash and burn du jour.

Right now I am feeling a great frustration with this Lenten Ramadan.  The last few days I feel like I have just been going through the motions.  I'm not yet to the point where I'm counting down days and I really don't feel like I'm doing this because I have something to prove.  I just feel like I'm missing something.  I feel inattentive, distracted and exhausted.  I feel like each time I come here to write I am empty.  I feel like God is right there in front of me but for one reason or another I am missing God.  I feel like great insights I received this past Tuesday were ten years ago.

I almost just wrote that "I hope something big happens this week to give me my focus back," but I know that's the wrong approach and ego-driven.  What I do hope for this week is that whatever needs to happen happens.  Who knows, that could mean more dry patches, an epiphany of great magnitude or something entirely different.  Whatever it is, I pray for the grace to be attentive and available to God this week and, unlike so many things in my life, to see this through to its completion.  Perhaps the rains will come.

Day 32: Quick Saturday Thoughts

I don't have a lot of time today, but just a few miscellaneous observations:

• It's a beautiful day.  Although 85 degrees is a bit unseasonably warm, I won't complain.  There was a family reunion in Lincoln today for the Miller side of my wife's family and it was a lovely day to be in the park, listen to the birds sing, feel the gentle breeze and watch the kids play on the playground.  It was a relaxing and enjoyable afternoon, except . . . 

• Family Reunions and fasting don't mix.  The only thing there is more of at a family reunion than family is food.  And lots of it. Fried chicken, bbq sandwiches, deviled eggs, about 15 different salads and a table of desserts nearly as long as the serving line itself.  It all looked delicious, and I'm sure it was, but I had no choice but to excuse myself.  It is one thing sitting and watching other people eat at the dinner table at home, but it is quite another thing to have to both look at and smell the cornucopia of food at a party. Since the weather was so nice, it was perfect for a short walk. Immediately behind the pavilion was a garden to honor all those from Lincoln who have died serving in the military.  It provided a quiet, shady and reflective space for prayer.  It also provided me with a focus as I prayed for peace and for all the families in our world who mourn the loss of their sons and daughters due to the violence caused by war.  

• A worthy re-post.   On Facebook earlier this week a college friend posted a link to a blog whose topic was both timely and thought-provoking.  The post uses the recent Qur'an burning from Terry Jones as a springboard for some thoughts on the great responsibility that both Christians and Muslims have to deepen their relationship with one another based on our worship of the same God.  It offers much good food for thought (darned food metaphors!) on some of the causes of the basic misunderstandings that exist on both sides.  Well worth your time.

• It's almost Sunday . . . ahhhhh.  It will be a delicious ushering in of a fast-free Sunday at 7:57pm tonight as we are having some friends over for dinner.  Croque-Monsieur's are on the menu and I cannot wait.  The world's best grilled cheese sandwich and a little taste of Paris right here in Omaha. I wish you all could come over to enjoy one.  In lieu of that, I hope you have a wonderful weekend.

Day 31: Are We There Yet?

Remember on Wednesday when I said "the fasting has become second nature"?  Well, I lied.   Today was the roughest day of the week by far for three reasons:  food, food and prayer.

Today was the retreat for our senior class.  I didn't have much time to stop by today because I was covering classes for a colleague who was working the retreat.  But wouldn't you know, the only time I did have to drop by to see how things were going was during lunch time.  Actually, it was before lunch time . . . I arrived just in time to help get the baked potato bar set up.  I normally have not been very hungry at lunch time lately, but I am also not normally around food midday either.  After that, the rest of the day was a real grind.  Making dinner at home only made matters worse and I found myself watching the clock from about 4:45 until 7:56 (recall as well that today is the first day with 13 hours of daylight).

The whole day was just weird.  I felt out of sync from start to finish and that made itself manifest in my prayer as well.  Being in a different classroom all day, missing my usual time for prayer in the middle of the day and just generally being tired contributed to a day that was, well . . . blah.  Sure, I said little prayers throughout the day, but I did not take the 30 minute chunk of time that I have already grown accustomed to and I really missed it.  Missing that structured prayer time just threw the entire day out of whack.

Most days I am eager to sit down and write about the day's experience.  But this was the first day through all of Lent that I had no idea what to jot down. So this is what you get.  I just told myself to be honest about the experience and to write what I feel, regardless of how dull it turned out.

But perhaps that is today's lesson . . . God is present even in the humdrum dullness of a cloudy, gray, unremarkable day.  A life of faith isn't just about the great days when I border on a state of spiritual euphoria.  And it isn't just about the horrible days when the only one there is to turn to is God.  It's mostly about the places in between that are monotonous, humdrum and altogether tedious . . . the times when I ask, "Are we there yet?"

Day 30: An Encounter With Islam

This evening I had the good fortune to attend a lecture sponsored by Project Interfaith.  The speaker, Tamim Ansary, is an Afghan-American author and the topic of his talk was "An Afghan-American Odyssey: My Bi-Cultural Life in a Post 9-11 World."  He was born in Afghanistan to an Afghan father and American mother but emigrated to the United States in 1964, about the time he was beginning high school.  He did not return again to his native Afghanistan until 2002.

In attendance at the lecture were a number of Muslims, Jews and Christians. While Ansary's observations on the current state of Afghanistan itself may have been bleak, his overall outlook on inter-religious dialog and understanding was very hopeful.  (By way of example, he is a practicing Muslim and his wife is Jewish.)  This is the type of lecture I wish more people took the opportunity to attend.  At a time in history when many in the West are gripped with Islamophobia and see Muslims only through the lens of stereotypes, Ansary put a very human face on the practices of ordinary Muslims in Afghanistan.  His emphasis on the influence of Sufism (his great-great-great grandfather was an influential Afghan Sufi poet) in the life and history of Afghanistan stands in stark contrast to any notion that the Taliban and fundamentalism are indicative of Islam as a whole.

There was much here that nourished the promise that there can be peace and mutual understanding between religions.  He recalled that his father would say that to be a good Muslim one must "be a good neighbor, a good father and a good friend, and not cheat or steal from others," an ethical code which could find a home in all of the world's great religious traditions.  He noted the many similarities between Islam and Judaism (and Christianity, I would add) and that animosities between the Abrahamic faiths tend to be historical and not dogmatic in nature.  He mentioned that the great majority of Muslims feel the same way about Islamic fundamentalists as non-Muslims do.  I often hear critics of Islam say, "Where are the moderate Muslims and why aren't they speaking out?"  Well, I heard a moderate Muslim speak tonight and he was blunt, realistic and optimistic.

I was particularly interested on his thoughts on Ramadan.  He recalled memories of the annual fast in which, while living in Afghanistan as a child, he was too young to participate (although he made attempts, only to find them falter after one or two days).  Fasting created an atmosphere of togetherness within the community.  Rising before sunrise to enjoy breakfast together helped nurture relationships among family members as they shared the experience of Ramadan with one another.  People entered the fast with joy and it was not a "grim ritual."  It became an annual quest for family and neighbors and it was not uncommon to hear Afghans ask one another, "How's the fast going?"  It was a regular topic of conversation even between total strangers.  He remembered sunset when a cannon would fire and signal to everyone that the fast was over.  Together everyone would break the fast by eating a date and then enjoy a feast to such a great extent that it prompted the saying that "everyone gains weight in Ramadan!"

This was truly an evening well spent.  Not only was the topic one which dove-tailed well with my own aspirations for my Lenten Ramadan, but I left with a renewed sense of hope and goodwill.  Perhaps things are not as bad as they typically seem.

Day 29: Four Week Update

The nuts and bolts news after four weeks:

• The new normal?  In many ways the fasting has become second nature.  I'm actually kind of used to it, I guess.  In some ways it really does not seem like that big of a deal anymore.  Don't get me wrong . . . I am in no way entertaining the idea of making this a permanent lifestyle change.  It's just that right now I seem to be getting to a point where I am thinking less and less about eating. Hunger really does not bother me throughout the day and I have become so accustomed to eating late and after everyone else that I have learned to cope and patiently wait it out.  What has intensified are the insights I am receiving throughout each day.

• Rumbling and stumbling.  I apologize if any of my recent entries seem a bit disjointed or rambling.  I am trying to be as honest as I can in conveying my experience without providing too many unnecessary details.  At the same time, I am noticing that my observations are much more open-ended and fluid and not concrete and definitive.  I set out on this journey without any specific expectations of what the fasting would bring and I truly don't know what I am going to write about from one day to the next.  Most of what I jot down is a mere shadow of my overall experience and I am attempting to represent the highlights as well as I can.

• Almsgiving.  I have written much about my prayer and fasting during this Lent but up to this point I have not mentioned a third practice in which Catholics are encouraged to participate during Lent:  almsgiving.  Right now I am thinking that this should somehow be connected to the total value of the lunches I have been forgoing.  I also have been thinking that any donation should go to an organization that works to combat hunger.  Any suggestions?

• Be careful what you wish for.  As of Friday there will be 13 hours of sunlight each day.  At that point an hour and twenty-three minutes of daylight will have been added since Ash Wednesday. Back in February I was sick and tired of all the darkness and I recall being anxious for more daylight.  What was I thinking?!

• And the scale says . . . Looks like I am down another two pounds since last week.  That brings my  total weight loss to nine pounds in four weeks.  Some people say they are starting to notice that I have lost a bit of weight.  

• Thanks again.  I am humbled by the nearly 900 page views in four weeks.  I not only appreciate you showing an interest but your thoughts, prayers and support are also deeply meaningful. Only two and a half weeks remain until Easter!

Day 28: Simple Living From the Inside Out

"'Do you realize that everything that goes into a person from outside

cannot defile, since it enters not the heart . . . But what comes out of a person,

that is what defiles.  From within people, from their hearts, come evil

thoughts . . . '"  (Mk. 7:18-23)

Since I finished writing last night's entry I have felt like a boxer in the ring who keeps getting pummeled by a hard left, hard right and another hard left. It all has to do with the quote about fasting that I concluded with yesterday, "We cover up whatever is inside us with food and other good things, but in fasting these things surface."

The first hard left came courtesy of a passage from Mark's Gospel.  I have mentioned before that in my prayer I have been using Tom Wright's book Mark for Everyone which takes passages from Mark, offers some historical context and then some reflections that help offer some fresh perspectives for today.  Upon reading today's passage (transcribed, in part, at the top of today's post) the notion of "inside" immediately stood out to me.  "We cover up what is inside" . . . "what comes out of a person, that is what defiles."  Yesterday selfishness rose to the forefront as the thing that is inside of me that I choose to ignore.  The passage from Mark seems to reaffirm that thought as selfishness leads to so many decisions and actions that cause pain to others.  It seemed to me then that this may be something I need to examine further.

Then I received the hard right.  A group of students who went on a service trip to the Dominican Republic last summer planned a prayer service for the entire school community today.  The theme of the prayer service was "Fair Trade." Three students spoke eloquently of their encounters with poverty in the DR and each concluded how the experience has changed them forever; how the privilege they enjoy in life causes them to think each and every day about kids their age who are working on banana plantations for next to nothing.  They encouraged us all to nurture an awareness of where our food and clothing come from and to consider buying "Fair Trade" items whenever possible.  

This hit me very hard.  I buy fair trade coffee and, occasionally, fair trade chocolate.  But I cannot think of a single article of clothing that I wear that I can confidently say was not made by a twelve year old child somewhere in Latin America or Asia.  To me, this may be part of the "inside" stuff I am covering up.  How much does my selfishness guide my purchases as a consumer?  Why do I continue to consume without taking the responsibility of learning more?  How can we as a culture continue to ride on the backs of the world's poor who work hard to provide us with the things we 

want both cheap and now?  Making a conscious decision to live more simply had been on my mind the remainder of the day.

And then came the second hard left.  Right before dinner tonight I ran across this article online about . . . you guessed it, living more simply.  Do these kind of connections happen everyday in my life and I just miss them?  Or is Someone trying to tell me something important through this whole fasting business?

I am not in any position right now to make any kind of definitive conclusion about what all this means.  I think seeds are being planted that will take much longer than Lent to germinate.  But perhaps the simplicity of fasting is causing me to look more to the inside, the result of which may have lasting effects on the outside.