Between the heartwarming of Christmas and the soulstirring of Easter, we have the work of Lent to do.

Jesus also had that work of life to do.

Forty days in the desert and the temptations were incumbent upon Him at that stage in His life, although it might have seemed counterintuitive. He went public at His Baptism, then disappeared, when a publicity-minded adviser might have suggested He take advantage of His new visibility. “Well, the Son Of God was here a second ago, but He disappeared! Anybody seen the Lamb Of God?” Probably seemed flaky.

Major life changes of that scale often arrive unanticipated. Parents ponder when to have a child, but sometimes the child arrives years earlier than planned. We see someone at work one ordinary day, and never see him again. A tree grows in a place where, maybe 100 years ago, someone said, “That’s not a good place for a big tree.”

If a Christian doesn’t give up something for Lent, I think it’s because it’s hard even for an adult to give up chocolate for Lent.

When I see someone eating Easter candy during Lent, that’s shocking to me, and I laugh at myself, but it’s still shocking. My rationale, since Easter candy is on sale before Ash Wednesday, is that I can have Easter candy before Lent. I always give up chocolate and candy for Lent. When a social occasion including chocolate falls during Lent, one’s responsibilities as a gracious guest sometimes dictate having chocolate, or alcohol. It might be an occasion I’d rather avoid altogether, which is mortification enough, as is having chocolate I would rather avoid. I can always abstain after Easter for as many days as I failed to abstain as compensation.  

One can undertake arduous trials during Lent. He can attempt to be “the master of his domain” from Ash Wednesday through Easter, and also have no candy, chocolate, meat, or alcohol.

One can take the positive approach of undertaking a healthy activity for Lent instead (or in addition to an abstinence). Because a walk around the block after dinner is easier than giving up chocolate.

An Irishman can abstain from corned beef, Guinness, and chocolate shamrocks on St. Patrick’s Day. Poor St. Patrick might be mightily embarrassed when people beseech the Church to say it’s okay for them to have corned beef on St. Patrick’s Day, although it’s a Lent Friday. And what happens? The Church says it’s okay. Is that okay? Yes, that’s okay. These are just some of those “human regulations” anyway. If people need their corned beef even on a Lent Friday, and good Catholic butchers, shopkeepers, and publicans are depending on selling the usual amounts of that, let’s not make the matter more important than it really is. How important is it? Well, if people are taking it to the Church and begging for relief, you might well and with good reason beg to differ, but you can’t tell them that’s not important. Better to have God ask, “Why did you let people eat corned beef on a Lent Friday?” than “Why didn’t you let them?” The former rhetorical question is easier to answer than the latter.  

When Lent becomes an exhausting ordeal, it’s not because of the Church, which actually makes Lent easy. People between 18 and 60 are supposed to fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, although one can observe that and still have three decent meals. We’re also not supposed to eat meat on Fridays. That’s really it.

As a 52-year-old, it occurs to me: only (God willing) seven more years of Lent? Is the AARP that powerful? Maybe I should join!

The Church has plenty of suggestions. We’re encouraged to abstain from meat every day of Lent, and every Friday, and emphasize prayer and almsgiving. Most well-spent is the time we use cultivating awareness of our complete dependence on God, and placing ourselves (poor as we might realize we, someway or other, truly are) in solidarity with the people commonly known as “the poor.” We could resolve to be consequently and practically mindful and productive throughout all the year. 

Instead of merely admiring the plastic baby Jesus in its crib, we can see the babies and families in shabby, shady circumstances, and try to help these brother and sisters of the real Jesus and ourselves. Instead of merely pondering the Resurrection, we can intervene on behalf of those seemingly condemned to merely suffer without hope in this life. 

We can make Lent complicated, although the Church keeps it simple. We live complicated lives, and our Church is complicated, but God keeps these essentials simple: love God, love your neighbor, and love yourself (which, of course, is complicated)!