The Melancholy of Lent

This season has always been my favorite in the church calendar. The melancholy of Lent, the altar draped in purple, the solemn sense of waiting, the self-sacrifice and dietary restrictions … all of it appealed to me as a child. Perhaps it was my developed sense of drama and aesthetics that responded so strongly to the theatre of the church (especially during Lent). That’s what it seemed like to me, and that is, in essence, what it is. Not in the sense of being phony but in the sense of it being a ritual, acted out in public, a community ritual with props and costumes and music. A collective event, with elements you could count on every year. The colors, the stations of the cross, Good Friday and the silence of the church, the seriousness of it, counting down, to Easter when the priest gets rid of his purple robe, and dons a white one. All of it spoke to me on a primal level as a kid. I suppose it still does.

The solemnity of Lent is lifted in the joy of Easter. The hope, the wait is over, the church no longer draped in purple, but now filled with brighter colors and with white, an abundance of white. Easter is impossible without Lent. You must go through the time of solemnity, suffering, self-sacrifice – in order to experience any rebirth. It makes a lot of sense.

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4 Responses to The Melancholy of Lent

  1. Betsy says:

    Thank you Sheila because the children complained about how hard it was to find the eggs this year, yelled at each other for giving egg-finding hints, and then complained about the choices of candy in the baskets – I finally turned around and yelled “this is not what Easter is about” (said with freaky, got-out-of-bed-early-because-it’s-Easter hair).

    I think I’ll go celebrate now with the kids! Happy Easter.

  2. Laura says:

    And a Happy Easter to you, Sheila.

  3. Dan says:

    A belated happy Easter to you Madamoiselle Red.

  4. Beth says:

    Betsy-HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH! Freaky got out of bed hair- hhAAHAH AHHHHHHAHAHAHA! I hadn’t even scrolled down to see who had posted that comment (cimment?!?) and automatically knew it was you. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t see my kids Easter morning, because I was in the ER in Roanoke with Tom who was bleeding out from a tonsillectomy 10 days earlier. He ended up needing a surgeon and got 5 stitches in his throat. ewww.

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