Creative Lenten Idea #1

I've never sold anything on Ebay. I hope to change that. I'd like to see what happens when I offer up some of my excess stuff (that's actually still worth something) and funnel it through Ebay.

I figured out how to upload something on Ebay. The auction will end on Ash Wednesday - just in time for me to generate a little money for the poor.

I think I just might try to post one item each day.

If you have a creative Lenten idea, please post it in the comment box. I'd love to hear your ideas.

Creative Lenten Idea #1

Shoes on Telephone Lines & Hubcaps on Branches

Once in awhile, I see a shoe in the road. It's odd -- a shoe in a road, in a place it obviously doesn't belong, separated from its mate.

It's almost as odd as seeing a pair of shoes tied together and flung across an overhead wire. You can't help wondering how it got there. Plain old weird.

Every once in awhile, as I am driving home, I notice a hubcap that hanging on a branch. As a driver who has lost a hubcap or two through the years, I know why this oddball thing is hanging on a treebranch. Someone found it and knew the owner might be looking for it. The "finder" hung the hubcap on a prominent branch in hopes that the "owner" would pass that way again and see it. The good-deed-doer will never get a thank you for his act of kindness. It is enough to know that the owner might be thankful for the anonymous help.

My friend, during Lent, you are hanging hubcaps on trees for passersby. You won't be thanked. Nobody will ever come up to you and say, "Hey, when I saw the ashes on your forehead, I felt a tug to come back Home."

Or, "When I took an order and the entire family chose seafood, I realized that they were Catholic, and I remembered that it was Friday. That's when I went to Confession. It was the first time in fifteen years."

Or, "I couldn't quite figure out what was going on with her, but she just stopped joining in the office gossip. At first I thought she was sick, but she was in too good of a mood to be sick. Then I wondered. Could it be what she's given up for Lent?"

You are hanging hubcaps on trees. They are out there, the ones who have lost something. And when they notice the oddball hubcap hanging from a tree limb, they might just say, "Hey, that's mine. I need that back."

No acclaim.

No recognition.

No thanks.

Go ahead and hang the hubcaps, friends. And smile while you're doing it. You are about to make another person's day, or week, or eternity.

Shoes on Telephone Lines & Hubcaps on Branches

When Talking to Non-Catholics About Lent and Ash Wednesday...

(The Lent 2010 Catholic By Grace Column is reposted here for you. Feel free to hit the share button and pass it on.)

Non-Catholics don’t always understand Catholic faith practices. One Catholic tradition that sometimes perplexes non-Catholics is our Lenten sacrifices. Many years ago, I worked in a restaurant. The owner and all the waitresses were Catholic. My sister and I were the only non-Catholic employees – and we were both the daughters of a Protestant minister. For us, Lent was a time of watching Catholics . . . and wondering.

We served a fair amount of fish during Lent, rather than our usual orders of sandwiches and fried chicken. And our boss and the other waitresses ate the perch, pike and shell fish on Fridays - as did the patrons.

The topic of Lenten sacrifice came up every shift I worked. The other waitresses would poll one another. “What did you give up for Lent?” The answers varied. Some said candy, or Pauline’s homemade pies, or soda.

I have to say, I didn’t get it back then. I thought that Catholics did those things so that they would feel holy. I used to think it was a waste of time and effort. I knew there was little gained from feeling holy. One had to be holy.

I didn’t realize that faithful Catholics have a simple reason for everything that they do. They know they are not yet holy, but they want to become holy. Their number one desire is to be a saint.

And that’s what Lent is all about.

We die to ourselves, remembering our baptismal promises, and we hope to rise with Jesus Christ when Lent comes to an end. Every prayer, sacrifice, Mass, devotion and offering we make is to embrace the journey of faith that leads to holiness.

These things that we do as Catholics change us – or more accurately stated, the things that we do become a venue for God to change us. And I realize now that it does work, sometimes so slowly that others can’t detect the changes in the few short weeks of Lent. But it does work . . . in time. And so, Catholics keep at it.

There is a reason why Catholic schools and hospitals have a crucifix in every room. They help young students to learn to follow Christ in his living; they help the sick and dying to become like Christ in his dying.

There is a reason why the Catholic calendar takes us from Advent and then into Christmas, from Lent and then into Easter. The faithful want to journey with Christ – in order to rise with Him when it is all said and done.

Your non-Catholic family and friends may ask you what you gave up this year. It is possible, likely even, that they are really asking a far different question.

Why do you do all this stuff?

Make sure they know that you do it because you are not yet a saint . . . but if you walk in the footsteps of Our Lord long enough, He will change you. In time, they will see the change in you and begin to understand.

May you find that you are walking in step with Him as you journey to the cross. And may the bystanders see you at the side of Christ and begin to put it together. We are not yet holy, but we are opening every part of our lives to the One who can make us holy.

Blessed Lent!

When Talking to Non-Catholics About Lent and Ash Wednesday...

Day Two In Our Forty Day Journey Together

A procession of prelates accompany Pope Benedict XVI at the Santa Sabina Basilica, for the Ash Wednesday prayer service in Rome, Wednesday Feb. 25, 2009. (AP photo)

Day Two In Our Forty Day Journey Together

Faithful in Manila - Ash Wednesday

(Picture from Reuters 2/25/09)

Repent, turn from sin. . .

Faithful in Manila - Ash Wednesday

The Sacrament of Confession - from Protestant to Catholic

I'm going to take some time today to "go into my closet to pray" - and I will return to the blog tomorrow. Rather than take the time to write something for Ash Wednesday, I am going to post a diocesan article that went to a number of papers the year I entered the Church (2005). It is about the Sacrament of Confession . . . and how I went from a Protestant perspective on it to fully embracing the Sacrament as a Catholic.

In Anticipation of Reconciliation

One week before Easter Vigil, the RCIA class at my parish went through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Due to a pending annulment from a first marriage, I could not participate in the Sacrament. It was a difficult moment in my conversion to the Catholic faith, because I longed to make this part of the journey with my class and be reconciled to the Lord. Even though the pending annulment meant I couldn’t participate, my classmates asked me to join them in a show of love and support, and so I went along somewhat reluctantly.

The idea of watching my friends enter the confessional and leave with clean hearts and souls (while I remained in the pew, still mired in sin and shame) weighed heavily on my mind. I am so glad that I decided to put that aside and go along as they suggested.

Although I had a desire to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation, at that point in my journey I still had lingering doubts about why I needed to seek forgiveness through a priest. While I sorted through the intellectual doubts, my spirit sensed the necessity of this act of humility and Sacrament of Reconciliation. My instincts were confirmed as I watched my new friends leave the confessional with radiant faces. The memory of it still blesses me in a profound way. After they had made their confessions, some suggested that I go in to receive a blessing.

When I entered, the priest was already seated. He said something to me, and I realized that he was beginning the Sacrament. I muddled through an explanation of my situation, and we talked briefly. Then, he blessed me.

When I left that little room, I realized that my Protestant doubt in the confessional was gone. In fact, the experience turned my thinking around one-hundred-eighty degrees. Now, I had doubts in the validity of the Jesus-and-me style of private Protestant confession.

Somehow, I had been given the grace to recognize Jesus in His ordained one, the priest.

Somehow, the Holy Spirit had helped me realize that the Sacrament of Reconciliation was not merely part of a sequence of events leading up to First Communion. The door to the confessional is the door to Jesus’ forgiveness. From that point on, I realized that when I hear those words of absolution – whenever that blessed day comes along – the words will be spoken by a priest, but they will be the words of Jesus.

In the weeks and months that have followed, the desire to be made clean through this Sacrament has consumed my spirit like holy fire. When I read verses from the Psalmist – verses like “Take pity on me, Lord, in your mercy; in your abundance of mercy wipe out my guilt” and “Wash me ever more from my guilt and cleanse me from my sin . . . for I know how guilty I am: my sin is always before me” – I am filled with an unquenchable desire to be reconciled to the Lord through this Sacrament.

I suppose one could contemplate the Sacrament of Reconciliation forever and never be able to grasp completely the fullness of the mystery, but I find myself trying to figure it out anyway. Why does the confessional trump individual prayers of confession? I think the question is answered in part by another verse in the Book of Psalms. “The true sacrifice is a broken spirit: a contrite and humble heart, O God, you will not refuse.”

The confessional requires humility. Pride is wrestled to the ground, giving way to a broken spirit. The net result is deep remorse and a profound desire to turn from sin and temptation (which is the definition of repentance). Private Jesus-and-Me confessions too easily segue into a mere appeasement of a guilty conscience and not true repentance. Without contrition and humility there is no forgiveness, the Psalmist says. The Lord has provided a way for me to know I am forgiven – the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I realize now that it is next to impossible to sit before a priest and speak of one’s darkest deeds without a profound sense of contrition and humility that leads to a serious desire to turn from sin.

If that wasn’t enough for me to embrace the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I only had to consider the Lord’s words to His Apostles, “Whatever you bind . . . whatever you loose.” Forgiveness is ours because of the Blood of Christ and His atoning work on the cross of Calvary (something I’d always believed), but Jesus said that the one who has the authority to forgive in His name is the ordained one.

Recently, I received word from the Metropolitan Tribunal that I am not bound to my first marriage and the decision will be official within a few weeks. Words cannot describe the joy that comes with knowing that Jesus is drawing me closer, even now bending His finger to me, indicating that He wants me to come all the way home, and that eventually I will be able to receive Him in the Holy Eucharist. I’m still anticipating my first confession; I long to hear the words of absolution. I’m ready to trade my ashes for beauty, ready to wear forgiveness like a crown. I know that Jesus is there and that He is waiting for me to receive the sweet Sacrament of Reconciliation no matter how long it takes for me to be ready.

(This article was written in May of 2005. I entered the Church on 8/14/05, having received the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the convalidation of my marriage, the Sacrament of Confirmation, and First Holy Communion.)

The Sacrament of Confession - from Protestant to Catholic