Today is Ash Wednesday. When I was a kid, a priest would stamp a circle of ashes on my forehead, and my sister Kelly and I would compete to see who could leave the better circle of ashes on the longest. Unless my mother intervened and ordered a good face washing. I remember trying to come up with something that sounded really sacrificial to tell Sister Rose I was giving up. (A boy in my catechism class was scolded for giving up broccoli). I settled on gum.
For years I did not practice Lent, and in the past few years have come back to it. As I did when I was a kid, I kind of negotiate a Lent sacrifice deal with myself. I have surrendered Coca-Cola when I was a 2-can per day drinker. I have given up alcoholic beverages. This year, it's ice cream (I have a bowl of ice cream every night before bed). They are real sacrifices. But they are not the big guns. I have never cashed it all in.
I feel as if this attitude extends to other areas of my faith as well. I give up a little time here and there, but how often am I completely generous about offering up my schedule? Sometimes I donate a good chunk of change, but I have never given so much that my faith is really tested. I make little negotiations every day about how much I will give, and how much I will keep.
In motherhood, I do the semi-sacrifice thing too. I'll get up with the baby, but not THREE times in one night. I'll take one day off for a sick kid, but not two. I'll play a board game or read a book, but NO I am NOT going to play "cars," which requires staging a wedding between Jeff Gordon's rainbow matchbox car and a powder blue Jaguar Hot Wheels convertible with onlooking Playmobil vet staff and assorted Disney Princesses. I am not advocating heedless indulgence of our darlings. I'm suggesting that I really can give up coffee if I am willing to put up with a few headaches.
Feminism has a nauseating amount to say about Motherhood and sacrifice and I am not addressing it all right now. In reality, most mothers know there is sacrifice involved in having children. (The volume of sacrifice, however, is continually shocking). We love our children. When you love someone, sacrifice is part of the package. Motherhood as a theory, as a construct of society, is one thing. Loving your children, or anyone else, is another.
The biggest tension between feminism and faith in Christ is this point: rights vs. sacrifice. As Feminists, we are asked to fight for rights, and not just others', but as women, ours. As Christians, we are called to love one another. Lent is about reflecting on Jesus sacrifice for us. Lent is a rehearsal for sacrificing bigger stuff in real life. Like stopping to talk to my lonely old neighbor when I'm running late. I doubt God cares if I ever go a day in my life without coffee.
Honestly, I rarely find myself growing closer to God when I fight for my own rights. Others', yes. Totally. Mine, no. I find myself angry at my husband or kids or the world in general. I find myself keeping score. During Lent, I want to suspend that urge, and just be present for my family and in the moments presented to me to love others. I want to hold my hands open, instead of clenched in fists. It's hard to hide clandestine bowls of ice cream in outstretched hands.
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