On Ash Wednesday, in churches across the world, the faithful had a cross traced on their forehead while being reminded that they are dust, and to dust they will return.
This simple service, with its stark penitential tone, serves as a reminder of our mortality. Lent comes as a time for reflection and inward conversion through prayer, fasting and almsgiving. St Augustine describes the latter two as the “wings of prayer” since they show both humility and charity.
None of the faithful gathered in the churches could imagine what Lent would be like. One meme doing the rounds on social media summed it up: “I never thought I’d have to give up so much for Lent.” Never has a meme been so prophetic!
We had to admit our helplessness before an invisible protein which had no life in it but which could cause havoc on a global level.
Public health concerns forced the implementation of measures to safeguard the health and well-being of citizens. Schools and universities transferred their learning online, many began working from home, citizens were encouraged to stay home and churches were closed for communal services.
Some may have disagreed with the decision that the Church took. However, this was a vital measure to protect ourselves and those who are most vulnerable.
As St John reminds Christians, if we cannot love our neighbour whom we have seen, how can we love God whom we do not see? We need to stay at home in order to stay safe.
Except that home is not a safe place for everyone. For some, ‘home’ is a place where physical and psychological violence takes place; where harrowing memories from the past unfold daily. For others, social isolation is a way of life and not an action in time of necessity. Recovering alcoholics and drug addicts have movingly described the challenges of these times in the pages of this newspaper.
Some images also challenge the core of one’s faith. We have seen footage of military trucks transporting coffins out of the city of Bergamo and churches lined with coffins. We read the stories of people who thought they still had years of life to live suddenly having to hastily say their goodbyes.
Then there are the statistics of those who are ill and those who died; each one of those statistics is a human being who has been affected in a way they never thought they would be.
This Lent was one long retreat where each of us was asked to fast of things we took for granted for so long
For many, the words of the Psalmist echoed by Christ on the cross take on more personal meaning: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is the anguished cry of a man overwhelmed by physical pain, mental anxiety and the fear that he must face death by himself. For the believer, the way of the cross is also the way to life.
In his Via Crucis reflections, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger invites believers to reflect on the image of the crucified Christ:
“Let us look upon him at times of presumptuousness and pleasure, in order to learn to respect limits and to see the superficiality of all merely material goods.
Let us look upon him at times of trial and tribulation, and realise that it is then that we are closest to God. Let us try to see his face in the people we might look down upon.”
This is also a summation of the meaning of Lent. This Lent was one long retreat where each of us was asked to fast of things we took for granted for so long.
The laity fasted from the sacraments. Perhaps, for far too long, we’ve been treating ‘church’ as merely that place where we go out of habit rather than somewhere where we belong.
The clergy were deprived of the presence of the faithful. They were asked to keep their distance from the very people who they are called to serve through their vocation. However, this has accentuated the need and the appreciation of lasting and meaningful communities. And yet, the journey of Lent ends with Easter. The narrative of Easter, much like the times we are living in, also begins with a harrowing account.
It is still dark; Mary Magdalene is at the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body after he was hastily laid in the tomb.
However, something horrible seems to have taken place. The stone at the entrance was rolled away. The tomb was empty. She panics; she assumes that someone must have stolen the body, and so she runs to tell the other disciples. The weight of the situation takes its toll and she bursts into tears – she weeps.
She sees someone and begs him to tell her where he put the body so that she can go and fetch him. In the panic of that horrendous situation, she fails to recognise that person. Then, a familiar voice soothes her worries. It was the Risen Christ, and he called her by her name.
The same can be said for the situation we are living in now. Amid this harrowing situation, we too are being called to discern and listen to this voice. We may be forced to fast on the sacraments and our communities but we are still invited to feast on his presence.
André DeBattista, Researcher in politics and international relations