Absurdist Note: I really want to add “Woo-ooh!” after the title. If you know, you know.
I have not pulled off this year’s Lenten disciplines the way that I set out to. When this 40 day period began, I set out to take on this fasts/spiritual practices:
Stop drinking Coca-Cola
Stop eating French fries
Stop playing Disney Solitaire on my phone
Do a daily devotional from Richard Rohr’s Wondrous Encounters
Write a blog five days a week
When the war in Iran began and threw another log on the fire that is the world, it pained me both spiritually and physically. One of the ways that played out was headaches and since headaches were already part of removing the caffeine of Coca-Cola from my life, I decided I probably shouldn’t compound a problem and began drinking Coke again. I have had French fries a few times; not many, mind you, but enough to break up the fast. There have been several multiple day stretches where I did not do my devotional. And my efforts to blog five times a week quickly fell by the wayside. I have managed to keep from playing Disney Solitaire, but that still puts my Lenten average in Mendoza Line territory.
By those metrics, this season has been a failure. There have been many moments when I have beaten myself up for my lack of spiritual discipline. I am quite seasoned at self-flagellation over shortcomings. It is not a healthy practice. So I am trying to resist easy patterns and give myself some grace. Now I can already hear some of a generation or two prior to me sharpening their knives for another millennial asking for a participation trophy. I don’t really care. Or at least I’m trying to care less.
In a way, the road leading up to the cross is one of massive failure. Virtually everyone around Jesus messed up in profound ways. Judas betrayed Jesus for a payout. Peter denied Jesus and cut off a guy’s ear. All the other disciples bailed on Jesus in his moment of need. The crowds that cheered Jesus on Palm Sunday called for his death. Pilate, who actually had the power to do something to save Jesus, washed his hands of the whole affair out of cowardice. Save for the women who were with Jesus all the way to the cross—and maybe they should be the only ones preaching on Holy Week—there was only one who stuck things out to the bitter end.
And Jesus stuck to the bitter end praying for forgiveness upon those who were so utterly failing. That grace is something with which I need to sit. At the end of the day, I still believe that it is grace that heals and helps make us whole. Grace picks us up when we fail. It helps us to learn from our shortcomings. It helps us to maybe fail a little bit better the next time. Grace is the arrow pointing us where we need to go.
I am going to fail sometimes. That is part of being human. Lent and more so Jesus have reminded me that failure is not the end of the story. Easter is all about the resurrection when things seemed to have bottomed out. You admit the failure, you learn, you accept grace, and you try again.