| Our Little Deaths |
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As I write this, the remnants of the February blizzard still decorate the lawns. The glistening heaps of beautiful snow that the kids so delighted in are reduced to little gray lumps of ice. We head into this Lenten season witnessing the last gasps of winter and only now feeling the first faint breezes of spring. During Lent, we are yearly invited to contemplate the great Paschal mystery—Christ’s death, and His rising to new life. Nature echoes this cycle, as crocuses push through long-frozen ground, and the bare trees bud once more. This Lent, I have been challenged to think about the Paschal mystery in a very personal way, thanks to the wonderful book Mike has referred to several times, Ronald Rolheiser’s The Holy Longing. Rolheiser considers the many death/life cycles that take place within each of our lives. In my late forties now, I have experienced quite a few deaths—not only of loved ones, but deaths within myself. For example, I have died to the self of my twenties, with its endless career possibilities, weekends to sleep late, and carefree chances to travel unencumbered by responsibility. The days of looking like a teenager are clearly long past. I have definitely closed the chapter marked “youth.” It is OK to be a little sad about this. It is important, though, to recognize that the next chapter is well worth living -- and worth living well. I can die to the ambitions and freedom of my youth. By doing that, I can savor the joys of my life in middle age, a life filled with the comforts of a home in a familiar town, a family of rapidly growing kids, and work I love. Without recognizing and, yes, mourning, the little deaths within our lives, we tend to cling. We cling to old dreams, old visions of ourselves. We may try desperately to keep looking younger; we may refuse to acknowledge that some career doors have closed for us. Holding onto the past this tightly, it’s awfully difficult to reach out — embrace, honor, and celebrate the older, wiser people we are growing to be. As parents, we grieve for the end of our children’s babyhood, often putting away the cribs and toys with tears in our eyes. And it is entirely appropriate to be sad. Would we really ever want them, though, to stay babies and not grow? Of course not. So we let their infancy go, let the warm memories bless us, and celebrate the next chapter, and the next, with our toddler, our school child, our college student. Christ asks us to do nothing less with every aspect of our lives here on earth. Let’s use this time of prayer and contemplation to see that the Paschal mystery is unfolding within us each day. By dying, by mourning, by letting go, we are ready to rise to newness of life, again and again, wherever we are along this road. Wonderful joys and surprises still wait for us up ahead, with our Easter, the greatest joy of all, waiting for us at the end. God bless you and your family this Holy season! |
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