I amn't Catholic. In fact, aside from the basics of the religion--which are rather similar to the beliefs of most Christianity--I don't understand a lot about Catholicism. That isn't to say I haven't studied it or tried to map it onto my understanding of the world, of course. Especially when it comes to historical Catholicism, I only have a sense of the most significant doctrines as they pertained to history (no divorce allowed led to the formation of the Anglican Church, for example). But I mix up holy days and I can't remember any patron saints (except for Saint George, because he's the patron saint of England, though I've no idea what he did).
To repeat: I'm not Catholic.
Neither am I Protestant in any significant way. It's beyond the scope of this essay to consider what Mormonism is (I think the idea of it being a fourth Abrahamic tradition is perhaps the closest analysis), so I'm approaching the tradition of celebrating Lent cautiously and as a curious outsider.
Now, as a self-identified Christian*, I think there's a lot about Lent that I can work toward. But because of my general ignorance, I'm cherry-picking the stuff that I know I can implement and understand. For example, I'm giving up Facebook for Lent. This isn't a major, life-shaking sacrifice, but I find that my time on Facebook is, generally, ill-spent. However, I'm not wiping ashes on my forehead, and though I plan on fasting during Lent--twice, as a matter of fact--and donating money as a result of the fast, that's comfortably within the purview of my Mormonism.
So why bother? Well, one of the reasons (as I understand it) that Catholics and other Lent-observing faiths put forth the lenten effort is because the impulse to indulge in what's being foregone helps to remind the disciple of Jesus Christ. This is something that I've been taught to do in my own worship: Fasting pains should remind the faster of what she is fasting. That is, the physical discomfort is turned toward what one hopes to gain. If my impulse to check Facebook is redirected toward Jesus, I think I'll become a better person.
But this is a conditional thing. First of all, I don't really like being on Facebook. I'm on there because it keeps me connected, but I don't normally care much about the vast majority of posts. When I go on there, I get stuck for a long time, mostly just because. I'm on Facebook, so I stick around. Letting go of that time-sink isn't a particularly large sacrifice.
I'm doing this anyway, though, and my thought behind it is pretty straightforward: I need to let go of something tangible and I feel solidarity with other disciples when I approach it this way.
"Wait," I can almost hear you saying, "I saw this essay on Facebook! Hypocrite much?"
First of all, that last question doesn't even make grammatical sense. And additionally, I'm still providing a link to my daily essays. I've taken the app off my phone, and I will essentially post the essay, then close the window. I'm not trying to carve out exceptions: I have a couple dozen regular readers, and they're coming in almost exclusively from Facebook. If I wanted to write something that no one could possibly read, I wouldn't post on a blog.
So, yes, I'm "on Facebook", but I won't be lingering. Post and move on, that's the plan.
Here's hoping that Lent will lend me some of the spirituality that I feel I'm lacking.
---
* I'm leery about qualifying myself unequivocally as a Christian, all baggage of the word (and the baggage of my Mormonism) taken into account. That's also something beyond the scope of this essay.
To repeat: I'm not Catholic.
Neither am I Protestant in any significant way. It's beyond the scope of this essay to consider what Mormonism is (I think the idea of it being a fourth Abrahamic tradition is perhaps the closest analysis), so I'm approaching the tradition of celebrating Lent cautiously and as a curious outsider.
Now, as a self-identified Christian*, I think there's a lot about Lent that I can work toward. But because of my general ignorance, I'm cherry-picking the stuff that I know I can implement and understand. For example, I'm giving up Facebook for Lent. This isn't a major, life-shaking sacrifice, but I find that my time on Facebook is, generally, ill-spent. However, I'm not wiping ashes on my forehead, and though I plan on fasting during Lent--twice, as a matter of fact--and donating money as a result of the fast, that's comfortably within the purview of my Mormonism.
So why bother? Well, one of the reasons (as I understand it) that Catholics and other Lent-observing faiths put forth the lenten effort is because the impulse to indulge in what's being foregone helps to remind the disciple of Jesus Christ. This is something that I've been taught to do in my own worship: Fasting pains should remind the faster of what she is fasting. That is, the physical discomfort is turned toward what one hopes to gain. If my impulse to check Facebook is redirected toward Jesus, I think I'll become a better person.
But this is a conditional thing. First of all, I don't really like being on Facebook. I'm on there because it keeps me connected, but I don't normally care much about the vast majority of posts. When I go on there, I get stuck for a long time, mostly just because. I'm on Facebook, so I stick around. Letting go of that time-sink isn't a particularly large sacrifice.
I'm doing this anyway, though, and my thought behind it is pretty straightforward: I need to let go of something tangible and I feel solidarity with other disciples when I approach it this way.
"Wait," I can almost hear you saying, "I saw this essay on Facebook! Hypocrite much?"
First of all, that last question doesn't even make grammatical sense. And additionally, I'm still providing a link to my daily essays. I've taken the app off my phone, and I will essentially post the essay, then close the window. I'm not trying to carve out exceptions: I have a couple dozen regular readers, and they're coming in almost exclusively from Facebook. If I wanted to write something that no one could possibly read, I wouldn't post on a blog.
So, yes, I'm "on Facebook", but I won't be lingering. Post and move on, that's the plan.
Here's hoping that Lent will lend me some of the spirituality that I feel I'm lacking.
---
* I'm leery about qualifying myself unequivocally as a Christian, all baggage of the word (and the baggage of my Mormonism) taken into account. That's also something beyond the scope of this essay.