Most often conversion --- giving ourselves over to following Christ --- is a gradual process that takes one from asking "Why am I here?" to knowing why: to serve God.
Lenten conversion: A deeper commitment
By Father John W. Crossin, OSFS
We have chosen to follow Christ. But we are reluctant to commit ourselves more deeply. These days we need courage for commitment.
Many people around us believe that detachment rather than commitment makes us happy. They believe it is better for us to keep our options open, retain our freedom and wait for the best opportunity.
We can distance ourselves from others by humor or irony. If you are a football fan, you may see this phenomenon in TV commercials during the game. Appealing to young adults, they are both ironic and touched with humor.
Occasionally some friends have asked me what a commercial means, and I don't know.
Advertisers appeal to autonomy to sell products. The free person drinks a certain brand of beer during the game and afterwards drives a fast car home.
Another way we can distance ourselves is by adopting the detached air of the scientist or social scientist. All we want to look at is the data. We analyze. We theorize. In this way we can keep an emotional distance from others --- and from Christ.
Scientific objectivity, humor and irony are all good in themselves. Yet in excess they can shield us from commitment, from intimacy and from spiritual maturity.
We are part of an individualistic culture. This is more a culture of separation than attachment.
I have not noticed that this autonomy leads to the promised happiness. For some it seems the reverse. Detachment leads to boredom, loneliness or even depression.
Commitment to a deep relationship with Christ is hard in our current environment, but commitment has always been hard, no matter what century it is. There have always been serious obstacles to personal spiritual growth.
The real irony is that commitment to Christ brings deep joy. Knowledge of Jesus and commitment to his service are deeply rewarding. The road to spiritual maturity is through commitment --- not away from it.
Yes, with commitments there will be new curves to negotiate and hills to climb. Mature relationships can be hard work at times. Happiness comes with the courage to address problems, not in avoiding or denying them.
Years ago, in a moment of spiritual insight, I realized that commitment to Christ ultimately had to be total. Being very young at the time, I found this insight frightening. My attitude was more 90 percent for God, 10 percent for Crossin.
Commitment involves our whole being.
Some of us come to a deeper Lenten conversion first by seeking deeper understanding. We want to know who Christ is. So we do practical things such as beginning to read a section of the Gospel every day.
Many more of us come to commitment through our emotions. We see the example of another person following Christ in serving the poor. And our hearts are moved to serve others.
Ultimately our commitment transforms our whole being. We know Christ and we love him. We serve him in the poor and in all our neighbors.
Occasionally this conversion happens dramatically. This happened to a friend of mine who miraculously survived a motorcycle crash on a crowded highway. In reflecting on near death, he realized then how superficial his life of faith had been.
Most often conversion is a gradual process. We realize that we will never be perfect. We will always have some personal failings. We will always need forgiveness and healing.
We are consoled by the fact that even the saints had their weaknesses.
Yet we can make progress. Inner joy is a gift of the Holy Spirit. During Lent, we can ask more frequently for this grace.
The contours of growth vary from individual to individual. Yet there are some common elements.
Conversion is giving ourselves over more and more to following Christ. Part of this surrender is getting our lives into balance. Our emotions often show us what we value too much. Maybe we seek success or recognition inordinately. We may need a bit more humility.
Part of this surrender is becoming less secular and more sacred. Maybe we need to consume less and live more simply.
Part of this surrender is reordering our priorities. On occasion, practices of prayer and devotion could replace frequently checking our e-mail at work.
Our commitment to Christ flows naturally into our commitment to others. Certain neighbors are put in our lives for our spiritual growth.
Some teach us by their good example. Others in their neediness pull the good deeds out of us. We become like Christ in serving them.
Still others may become our spiritual friends. These friends, usually few in number, are those with whom we can share the joys and struggles of our spiritual journey through life.
In the sharing we come to a deeper appreciation of the Holy Spirit's guidance. Friends point out the work of the Spirit in our midst, noticing things we have missed.
With the Spirit's help we can commit ourselves 100 percent to Christ. And thus become 100 percent fulfilled.
Oblate Father John W. Crossin is executive director of the Washington Theological Consortium.
The origins of Lent
By John F. Kelly
The New Testament emphasizes the centrality of the Resurrection for the first Christians, and Easter soon became the church's central feast.
Following the Jewish practice of fasting before a major commemorative day, the Christians initiated a fast before Easter. Unfortunately, the ancient sources about this are sketchy. We cannot say exactly when it began.
A late second-century bishop, Irenaeus of Lyon, France, recounted that some but not all Christians practiced complete abstention from all food from the time of Jesus' death at 3 p.m. on Good Friday until sunrise at Easter.
Irenaeus also mentioned that other Christians fasted for a longer time, but there was no requirement for a fast, brief or long. No other second-century text mentions a pre-Easter fast.
In the third century, Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria spoke of a weeklong fast before Easter. Details may be spare, but clearly some kind of pre-Easter fast was developing.
But so was another type of fast, the pre-baptismal one (at this time baptism was mainly administered to adults).
The church administered baptism only at certain times of the year such as Easter or Epiphany, on the latter date partly because Christians believed that to be the anniversary of Jesus' baptism.
But Easter emerged as the preferred time by the fourth century, mainly because baptism involved death-and-rebirth imagery, closely matching the Resurrection.
Baptizands in white robes entered the church on the day Christ entered into glory. The pre-baptismal fast merged with the incipient pre-Easter fast not just chronologically but symbolically.
Fourth-century bishops believed that all believers should join the baptizands in fasting before Easter, so this became a major spiritual exercise of the early church.
When the fast became universal, the question arose: For how long?
Ancient practices varied: in Rome, three weeks of fasting but excluding Saturdays and Sunday; in Greece and Egypt six weeks, but we do not know about Saturdays or Sundays; in Jerusalem, a full eight weeks but not including weekends, so the total number of days was 40.
At the first ecumenical council at Nicaea in 325, the bishops worked to standardize the practice. They spoke of the 40-day fast as an established custom, although scholars are not sure why.
By 365, the local church of Laodicea (modern Turkey) made the 40-day fast obligatory, and others quickly followed.
Christian theologians applauded this practice, since it not only reflected Jesus' 40-day fast in the desert but also those of Moses (Ex 34:28) and Elijah (1 Kgs 19:8), the two figures who appeared with Jesus at the transfiguration, thus giving the fast a deep-rooted biblical foundation.
But should the 40 days include Saturdays and Sundays?
Traditions differed, especially in the East. But in the West, Rome led the way by absolving people from the fast only on Sundays.
And on what day should the fast begin?
Some churches relied upon local traditions and symbolic values, but most did it the easy way --- arithmetic. Lent ended on Holy Saturday. Using that as the 40th day and excluding Sundays, the Roman church measured back six weeks (36 days) and then went back four more days so that the pre-Easter fast, our Lent, began on a Wednesday, the still-prevailing custom.
So this was Ash Wednesday?
No. Not until the seventh century did French churches sprinkle ashes on the heads of penitents during Lent; in Germany in the 10th century this sprinkling occurred on the Wednesday that began the fast.
In 1091 Pope Urban II made the imposition of ashes on that day a universal practice, thus creating Ash Wednesday.
As for the word "Lent," it was first used in England in the ninth century.
Here's some trivia. In John's Gospel, Jesus raises Lazarus the day before Palm Sunday, so the ancient church often called that day "Lazarus Saturday." A tradition to revive?
John F. Kelly chairs the Department of Religious Studies at John Carroll University in Cleveland.
A time when I experienced conversion
By Theresa Trenary
My conversion occurred during a Walk to Emmaus weekend in November of 2000. This was an ecumenical event, but I was the only Catholic there this particular weekend. I've since learned that the program evolved from the Catholic Cursillo movement.
Although my conversion took place during this weekend, there were many more events that led up to the weekend than I can explain. What I'd like to share, however, is how my conversion changed me.
I went from asking myself, "Why am I here?" to KNOWING why: to serve God.
I immediately stopped drinking alcohol. Alcoholism is in my family. I grew up thinking that everybody drank alcohol and didn't understand someone who didn't drink.
Had it not been for my conversion, I could have eventually ended up going down the path to full-blown alcoholism.
Because of my abstinence from alcohol, some friendships were lost, but thankfully others were found. I never lost my closest friends. But I do think I scared my siblings and daughters, for I had left the house that November day one person and came back three days later a changed person!
I now understand what "born again" truly means, although I don't usually say these words out loud; I wasn't used to the expression growing up.
I pray now --- a lot. I pray to the Holy Spirit for guidance and courage. I believe my prayer is heard, and as I pray for others I see results.
One of my prayers has been for my family to understand and realize that my conversion has been good for me! A dramatic change for the better has taken place.
Some family members still may not understand the person I've become, but they are accepting. By how I am now living my life, I'm showing them the love of God.
It is so awesome to see other people's awakenings to the love of God.
My daughters now call and ask me to pray for their friends or different things that are going on in their lives.
Since my first conversion during Walk to Emmaus, I sense an immense growth in my faith. I became an active parish member. Going to Mass is no longer a duty --- it's beautiful. I attend weekly Scripture study and have gone through a three-year lay formation process in our archdiocese.
I have been a Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults sponsor four times, am on the spiritual life committee, and am now on our parish's discerning charisms core team, a pilot program within our archdiocese.
Faith and family are the most important things in my life. God is working! Theresa Trenary is a legal assistant and writer in Marion, Iowa. |