A good one so far.
As I finish up with our four liturgies today, some general reflections on th eLenten landscape: pastoral, practical, and spiritual:
This was the first time in at least thirteen years I didn’t burn. Why? I still have a jar full of them in the sacristy. I bought some this year, more for the opportunity to study the sample and see how I can get my local Kansas City dried palm leaves to look so stylishly smudgy black.
Now that I didn’t burn, I’m sad about it. At my big Iowa parish (1995-2000), the school kids processed to the front of the rectory garage and put their palms from home into the flames as we had our liturgy. (note: not para-)
Amazingly, I was able to pop out of bed this morning with the alarm–NPR, actually–and get to church in time to set up for 6:15 AM Mass. Not bad on four hours sleep. Anita picked up some book on St Thomas More the other day while I was fetching confirmation certificates at our local religious goods store. Apparently, Henry VIII’s favorite childhood tutor used to deprive himself of sleep as a penitential practice. Only four hours a night.
I know I can’t do that more than two nights in a row. Anita says I get too grumpy with lack of sleep.
Even his wife didn’t know about his shirts of animal hair.
But the toughest road ahead for me will be keeping the car radio silent during Lent. Getting up should be fine. But not hearing NPR, Jim Rome, or music while I drive will be a true sacrifice.