Back in the beginning of Lent, I gave up a few things and stated what I was going to try to do. So how has it gone?
I gave up:
1. Alcohol. So far, no problem. I normally drink more than most people (I'll consume perhaps 5 bottles of wine in a week), but I'm also larger than most people. I have had no real issues with giving up wine, and haven't really missed it. The only exception to this has been communion wine, as I have been taking communion in both species for some time. Of course, Sundays are not traditionally part of the Lenten fast, and as Catholic doctrine and St. Thomas Aquinas will point out, communion wine after consecration is not wine at all, but is indeed the blood of Christ, with merely the "accidental" appearance of wine.
2 Red meat. I wanted to give up all meat, including chicken, but relented on this point at my wife's insistence (in case you haven't followed my story, I am not a real monk, so there is no scandal associated with me having a wife). I have observed this well, also, and have not missed it, either. My wife also gave this up, and she is finding it very difficult, as she likes nothing more than a good burger. I enjoy fish -- both cooking it and eating it -- more than my wife, so I've been treating her to snapper, haddock, cod, and so forth. breaded with cornmeal and flour. Next year I will forgo chicken, as well.
3. Tobacco. Was not on my original list, but I did, indeed, give up the pipe (and occasional cigarette) during Lent. I miss it a little.
I tried to accomplish:
4. The Liturgy of the Hours in Latin. This I have greatly struggled in, and for the most part, have not succeeded with. I try to do seven hours in a day, though work does not permit me to keep the hours at their appointed time. I tend to fall behind and play catch up (I will not miss an hour, no matter how far I fall behind), and my rule is that "when behind, do English only." Well, I've been English-only most of Lent. Part of the difficulty in keeping the hours has been that I have begun my studies for a master's in Theology, and I have had a tremendous amount of theological reading to do as well. That being said, I am hoping to catch up and at least do Holy Week in Latin (at a minimum, the Triduum).
But excuses aside, I do occasionally suffer from being "blocked" in prayer, and experiencing a terrible spiritual torpor where to even open the book seems an unthinkable burden. At times, I feel like something is keeping me from the Hours; so occasionally, I just pray the Rosary.
These periods of blockage are usually relieved by a recommitment to humility. Pride is a terrible, terrible, fault of mine, and occasionally, I feel that I am being brought low and humbled in order to learn a lesson which, while I understand it philosophically, is not a lesson I have yet taken to heart deeply enough.
The lesson is that there is nothing I can do that does not stem from Him creating me and allowing me to do it.
A real blindness of mine, a real sin, is that I tend to think that the prayer I engage in -- which is considerable -- is somehow consequential or effective through some merit of my own. When I think this, I am pretty quickly humbled and have to acknowledge that nothing I do, not even the drawing of a breath, occurs unless it pleases Him. My prayer only makes sense when I recognize that even it -- which, in my moments of arrogance, I think of as a form of me condescending to pray, or even more arrogantly, me summoning or invoking God in prayer -- it only occurs because He has given me life, breath, and a gift of faith to acknowledge God. Any act I do, no matter how much it glorifies God, is only possible out of His goodness, not mine.
And it is then that I realize what it is that God wants from me.
In a word, it is "surrender".
And when I am finally able to give up some arrogant part of me, some bit of pride or conceit, some way of thinking about God that involves me being great -- even in service to God -- only when I surrender all those arrogant ideas and come to him in my abject spiritual poverty and humility, am I afforded, once again, the gift of coming to Him in prayer.
For some people, prayer is as easy as drawing breath. For me, a sinful creature, even prayer is difficult, and even prayer can be made something unworthy. So great is my distance from God that I have to be reminded of His sacrifice and be made to appreciate it in a very simple way.
I pray a lot not because I am in any way great. I pray a lot only becuase I am beginning to be made aware of how small I truly am, and how great He is. And He is bringing me to Him on a very low and humble path, not because he is cruel, but because there is very much, indeed, I have to learn about his greatness.
My own sorry Lent is not enough to honor him.
I will eventually bring my Lent to the standards of The Black Fast; I know that next year must be stricter than this year, and that this year -- in terms of personal sacrifices -- was far too easy.
Naturally, I must also strive to make the prayer better and more reverent, too -- for this I was not able to do even in my own small, poor way.