46 days

An email to a friend tonight:

'You know how you have those moments where you're faced with two choices? One is always easier, more familiar, but in that moment you know that you should take the other choice. You know that you'll be better for it, that your soul will somehow be renewed. I almost passed the communion on my way to the graduate common room to fetch my mail. I had a choice: to go to first hall and eat quickly and be done early. It would be easier and I could go home and bum around in front of my computer with an episode of Friends. Then I passed the Chapel and heard the choir practicing and their voices just filled the entire corridor; voices so beautiful Andy (we sang Psalm 23 that night). And so I went. And it was good. It was my first time taking communion with the Church of England, drinking real wine from a communal cup, a silver chalice, lining up and kneeling before the cross.

Then upstairs to the feast.'

Tuesday was Shrovetide, a day of feasting, of carnival (literally meaning 'removal of the meat' carnem lavare). I learned that it is the day before Lent.

Though I've been a Christian for eight-over years now, I've never really observed Christmas or Lent. These dates pass by and I take little time to prepare for them or to contemplate their meaning. I guess that's how we live most of our lives - in a whir.

Last Christmas, a friend and I attended a carol service at Clare College. We were each given a candle stick in a dark chapel as we entered. After a moment of silence, still in the dark, the choir entered and 'Emmanuel' filled the chapel. We lit each other's candles and the whole place was suddenly filled with light. It truly was 'God with us'.

There is something to be said about ceremony and sacremental worship. Dean Cally Hammond spoke about that on Tuesday night. It is not that we worship the sacrements themselves, it is not that we actually think that the sacrements are somehow alive with power; rather, they are a means to an end. They make us purposeful, thoughtful, pennitent even. Just as a wedding ring is a reminder of fidelity, of promised love, the crosses that some of us wear are reminders of our faith. The cross can be used as a mark by which we recognise one another. The invisible is made visible, the unseen seen.

Yesterday was Ash Wednesay. It marks the start of a 40 day period (46 in actuality but Sundays do not count because they are days for commemorating Jesus's ressurection) leading up to Easter. I read last night that 40 is the traditional number of discipline, devotion and preparation in the Bible. Moses stayed on the mountain for forty days (Exodus 24:18, 34:2); the spies were in the land for forty days (Numbers 13:25); Elijah traveled forty days (1 Kings 19:8); Nineveh was given forty days to repent. Most importantly, Jesus spent forty days in the desert (Matthew 4:2).

And so my nights are quiet. And today is day 45.

Sacraments are a means to an end. I want to look forward to this end.

Posted on February 23, 2007 at 04:51AM