There are some people I will read whatever they write. I trust they always have something to tell me---even if I don’t want to know it or don’t want to think about it. It is good for my soul. I figure if things are good for my soul, I should pay attention. For sure, I don’t always know what is good for my soul. That is where others come in---that is where community function in our lives. One of those people is Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister.
Sister Joan is part of the Benedictine community of women religious in Erie, PA. I have been to their monastery and found it, like always in a monastic setting, welcoming. It impressed me as the home and base of some amazing women. These women were committed to the Spirit and to doing what they thought the Spirit was guiding them to do. This kind of clarity is always arresting. This contrasts with so many of us who may not be clear that what we are doing is what the Spirit wants us to be doing. We may be going through the motions of our lives. We may even have a gnawing sense that there is more to life, but we don’t know what that is, or we don’t have the courage to go for it.
This is the kind of thing Sister Joan often addresses. In a recent piece written during the season of Lent, she nails it again. I wonder how many seasons of Lent she has lived through in her many years? The theme of Lent never changes, but we do. I can imagine she faced it differently as a younger woman. Probably it was different when she was newly minted as a Benedictine nun. She is much older now---my age! We might be tempted to think she has seen it all. She has life down pat.
Yet she inspires. I was taken with the ending of her little essay. She quips, “Lent is not a spiritual competition, a kind of ‘no pain, no gain’ exercise of the soul. Lent is the time to renew the best in us.” I would like to do that. I would like to take opportunity to renew the best in myself. I am happy to do it during Lent. And I am just as happy to do it any other time in the calendar year.
In her Lenten reflection, Sister Joan takes a moment to think back over the Covid year for her and for all of us. Obviously, much of the Covid story is sad and despicable. It was scary and certainly no fun. She does not disagree. But she is also willing to look for what we might have learned. Did anything good happen? Did we learn anything worth preserving? She thinks we did. For example, she observes that Covid “stopped our fevered running to and fro, back and forth in life.” Many of missed this kind of “nutty life.” But that is also the life that often is superficial and at the heart of a life lived without real purpose and no meaning.
Sister Joan muses there are some things she does not plan to resume when it is all over. That is an interesting, challenging thought. For example, she believes that Covid “has reduced us to the essence of ourselves. To the bare bones of our lives.” It has “taught us a form of patience.” In saying this, she admits it has not been the case for everyone. Some of the front-line people---whether they be health care workers or grocery store clerks---have felt more stretched and stressed than any time in their lives. While most of us hunkered down so the bug would not get us, they were forced into the throes of vulnerability---sitting ducks for danger.
It is fascinating to remember Covid during the process of getting into it and getting deeper into it with the fear and trepidation. For a long time, it seemed like it would never end. And then it did not just end. Some endings are gradual---so gradual you are never quite sure when the end has actually happened. Some folks came bolting out of the pandemic lockdown. Others peaked out and took tentative steps. Becoming vaccinated was a big deal. That gave many of us courage.
What is true is Lent came during Lent and Lent will come every spring. Covid-19 will finally be a memory. Lent is always just around the corner---as are birthdays and any other annual celebration. This reality is the source of Sister Joan’s last comment for me. She tells us that during our lives, “we have thought of Lent as everything except what it is really meant to be: space, time, change and reflection.” I want to keep these thoughts.
Lent is space. It is meant as some space to reflect and renew. It is a timeout. We will be put back into the game of life, but we occasionally need some space to realign ourselves with the Spirit. Lent is also time. Essentially, it is special time. It has the potential of being deeper time. In the space given to us, we go to the center of ourselves---hoping to connect with and live more from the true self at the center of each of us.
Lent is always a time to change if we recognize the desire to do so. By reflecting we can discern how the Spirit is leading us and we commence the process of renewing the best in ourselves.
Those of us who have read theology or, perhaps, those who are people of faith and are old enough might well recognize this title as a reminder of the late Jewish philosopher and theologian, Martin Buber. I remember reading Buber’s book, I and Thou , when I was in college in the 1960s. It was already a famous book by then. I am not sure I fully understood it, but that would not be the last time I read it. It has been a while since I looked at the book. Buber came up in a conversation with a friend who asked if I had seen the recent article by David Brooks? I had not seen it, but when I was told about it, I knew I would quickly locate and read that piece. I very much like what Brooks decides to write about and what he contributes to societal conversation. I wish more people read him and took him seriously. Brooks’ article focused on the 2016 contentious election. He provocatively suggests, “Read Buber, Not the Polls!” I think Brooks puts
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