Yesterday was Ash Wednesday.
Though I had said I didn't plan on giving up anything for Lent, maybe I see about giving up buying yarn and fabric, and use what I have? I've got enough projects going already, that's for sure, and right now (partly because it's the worst allergy season for me - trees), no energy to work on them.
Last night was Ash Wednesday service. It was short, it was in the evening - I know most of my friends who are Catholic have services early in the day (President Biden was seen on camera with the smudge of ashes on his forehead).
The mainline-trending-theologically-liberal denomination I belong to varies a lot in its observance. I honestly can't remember if we did one last year. We didn't in 2020 (I don't THINK, or maybe that was before we shut down? Time is slippery now). In 2019 we did a combined service with the local Presbyterian church, which was kind of nice.
This year, though, it was small - about a dozen of us, a very brief homily (not even really a sermon). There was communion (all of us standing around the table - we are still using the pre-packaged set ups [which I jokingly referred to other places as 'Eucharistables'] but we were at least able to stand in close proximity, since we're all triply vaccinated). At the very end, we had the option of coming forward and having ashes put on our forehead, even if that's not a TYPICAL DoC thing, we did it. I think the only person who chose not to was a young-teen girl that I know is very self-conscious, and I could see me being uncomfortable with it at that age.
I admit I was relieved I didn't need to serve at the table. It wasn't a great day - mostly I was just tired and once again kind of dismayed at the world. As it was, the person serving, her voice wavered a little bit during the prayer. Lent can be kind of intense.
Part of it, I think, is going to church at night. For me, that's different - the only evening services we've had regularly are Christmas Eve, Maundy Thursday, and this. And they're all emotional, though for different reasons - Christmas Eve carries with it a sort of relief, a "the old miracle is going to happen again" feeling, and also, for me, most years, I was "home" and that carries its own feelings. Maundy Thursday is the hardest, though, of course: we're confronted with "human sinfulness did this" and also the horrors of what happened on Good Friday. I've cried at Maundy Thursday services, and I try hard not to cry in public.
Also a number of years in the past, Maundy Thursday meant walking out of church into a gathering storm - it's the typical thunderstorm time of the year (late March into April) and somehow there does seem something oddly fitting about that.
But evening church does feel special. I think if I had the option of either Saturday or Sunday evening services (all else being equal - the music being the same and all), I'd take an evening service; it seems like a good way to end the day. But we don't go in for Vespers much in my denomination and anyway, most of the congregations I've been part of have been too small to have multiple services, so we go for Sunday morning.
But also, last evening, I walked out with a feeling of "well, I guess God felt like humanity was worth saving" - I admit some days these recent days I've had my doubts. People continue to disappoint me. Part of it is the frustration over "I control my own behavior, and I have, and yet...." when there are other people doing stuff where I either have to sit and wait for them to face the eventual consequences - or maybe they don't. Or maybe they think what they're doing is justified and don't see that it hurts others.
1 comment:
Ash Wednesday in 2020 was February 26. We had an in-person service. I have to think you did too. Things here shut down on March 13.
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