A good Lent can change your life

Lent: there is an interesting word. It seems to derive from the old English word lencten, which means "spring or spring". There is also a connection with West Germanic langitinaz, or "lengthening of the day".

Every Catholic who is seriously concerned with reforming his life knows that Lent somehow plays - or should play - an important role. It is in our Catholic blood. The days begin to lengthen and there is that touch of spring that you find even where I live in snowy Colorado. Maybe it's the way birds start singing, as Chaucer wrote:

And little suckers maken melodye,
That night he slept with you open
(thus orbit nature in its courage),
Thanne craves people to go on pilgrimage

You want to do something: a pilgrimage, a journey, anything but staying where you are; far from staying.

Not everyone can afford to go on the Camino to Santiago de Compostela or on a pilgrimage to Chartres. But everyone can take a trip home and to their parish - the destination is Easter.

The biggest thing blocking this trip will be our predominant fault. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange OP describes this defect as "our domestic enemy who dwells in our interior ... sometimes it is like a crack in a wall that seems solid but it is not like this: like a crack, sometimes imperceptible but deep, in the beautiful facade of a building, which a vigorous shock could shake at the foundations. "

Knowing what this fault is will be a huge advantage in the journey, because it will indicate its opposite virtue. So if your main fault is anger, then you will have to aim for kindness or docility. And even a small growth in sweetness will help all the other virtues to grow and the other vices will diminish. Don't count on the fact that a single Lent is enough; several may be needed. But a good Lent can be a powerful means of overcoming the predominant guilt, especially if followed by a joyful Easter.

How do we find out what our main fault is? One way is to ask your husband or wife if you have one; he or she will probably know what it is if you don't, and maybe they will also collaborate with your desire to know with great enthusiasm.

But don't be surprised if it is difficult to identify it. This is contained in the parable of the mustard seed. Now there is a rather pleasant way of looking at this parable, in which a small act can become something exceptional. The famous French atheist André Frossard came across a church during the Aspergi, and holy water burned it, and converted, and continued to do very well.

But there is another way of looking at the parable, and it's not that pleasant. Because when the mustard tree has grown, it is so large that the birds of the sky come and live in its branches. We have seen these birds before. They are mentioned in the parable of the sower. They come and eat the seed that has not fallen on good ground. And our Lord explains that they are devils, they are vices.

Note that in a small tree with few branches, it is easy to see a bird's nest. Not only is a nest easy to see, but it is easy enough to remove in a young tree. Not so with a large or older tree. There are so many branches and so much foliage that it is difficult to see. And even after seeing the nest, it is difficult to remove as it may be on top. Just like that with adults in the faith: the more faith is known, the greater the tree and the more difficult it is to see the vices in ourselves, the more difficult it is to remove them.

We get used to guilt; we have a habit of looking at the world through it, and it hides, assuming the appearance of virtue. Thus weakness hides in a cloak of humility, and pride in the outfit of magnanimity, and uncontrolled anger tries to pass on itself as just indignation.

So how can we find this fault if there are no holy people nearby to help?

We must go to the cellar of self-knowledge, as San Bernardo di Chiaravalle said. Many people don't, often because they don't like what they see there. But it is necessary, and if you ask your Guardian Angel to help you have the courage to do it, it will.

But since the source and summit of all Church activity is the sacrifice of Mass, is there anything we could take from Mass to do at home to help this go to the cellar? I recommend candlelight.

Light is strictly prescribed for the celebration of Holy Mass. There is no legislation on electric light (a parish can use as much light as it wants and of any kind), but there is a lot about candles on the altar. For a candle lit on an altar is meant to represent Christ. The flame above it represents its divinity; the candle itself, its humanity; and the wick, his soul.

The main reason for the use of candles can be found in the prayers for the day of candles (in the extraordinary form of the Roman rite), on which the Church implores God ...

... to ensure that while the candles lit with visible fire dissipate the darkness of the night, in the same way our hearts, illuminated by the invisible fire, that is, by the shining light of the Holy Spirit, can be freed from any blindness of sin and with the purified eyes of the spirit are allowed to perceive what is pleasing to him and conducive to our salvation, so that, after the dark and dangerous fights of this earthly life, we can reach the possession of immortal light.

The flame of light is mysterious (this can be deeply experienced in the Easter Vigil, when only candle light is used for the first part of the liturgy), pure, beautiful, radiant and full of brightness and warmth.

So, if you are prone to distraction or are having trouble entering the self-knowledge basement, then light a candle to pray. It makes quite the difference.