Why are you giving me up?

As I'm typing this post, I'm hearing that inner voice that says, "Don't run where angels dare to tread," but I rarely listen to the voice in my head, as that would be the sign of a crazy man. Just remember that the point of this blog is to promote discussion, and I welcome the other side's viewpoints.

Now we're a week into Lent, and I have to say that I've heard more than ever this year, that the thing a person is giving up is technology. 

I have many thoughts rush through my head when I hear this, "Good luck with that in today's world," "What exactly does that mean," and my most common question is, "Why?"

It would seem that the why should be obvious, and I suppose that in a sense it is - to grow closer to God. 

Well, I'm not sure I see the logic of this idea. 

First, allow me to make some clarifications about what I'm actually talking about. I'm talking about people who give up anything from computer/video games, television, Facebook all the way to using the internet or their cell phones. Obviously this is a broad spectrum, but I feel it's important that it be so wide. 

Secondly, let me say that I'm not flat out saying that these penances are bad. Rather, when done properly I think they can be very good and spiritually promoting, and I practice some of them myself. 

However, this leads me into my next three questions, which are, "Why are you giving it up?" "What are you doing in its place?" and "Who are you disciplining?"

Let's start with the last question. With penances, one of our first thoughts should always be, "Is this only my penance or is it going to be someone else's?" The popular example is people who give up coffee for Lent. Obviously it's a discipline for the person doing it, and that's good, but it's often a discipline for the people around them, as then they're forced to associate with someone who's not awake or snaps at them and is cranky.

I can see this problem with giving up some technology. Giving up your cell phone or email seems to be imposing penances on other people. I know from experience that people who do this become very difficult to get in contact with, and there are times when you need to get in touch with people. Imagine if there's an emergency with a family member. 

Instead I think that a good penance, if you feel you check these things too often or use them too often, would instead be to regulate the use of it. "I'm only going to check my email once every hour," or, "I'm not going to make outgoing calls unless I need to, but I'll have it with me to answer it."

The subject gets a little more murky and controversial with things like Facebook. When I hear a person is giving up Facebook, I think, "So you're giving up hearing what's going on in other people's lives?" 

Now I'm not looking for a debate on the dramas that Facebook can cause or the problems some people encounter with superficial friends through it. These are legitimate problems, but they're a separate discussion. The issue I'm looking at is, "How does cutting contact with people help?" And I think we can all agree that there is authentic human contact through social media. Obviously it isn't the same as physical contact, but that doesn't necessarily make it less authentic. You may know people you see every day less authentically than you know people through social media. 

Again, though that's not my point. My point is how is cutting yourself off from others helping you? I see a lot on Facebook that I don't know why people post. I acknowledge it's misused by many. But it is also a way for me to have contact with many people and know some of the things going on in their lives, making me better able to pray for them. I am under no impression that it gives an intimate relationship with them, but it does remind me that they exist. 

All of the foregoing transitions nicely into my next two questions - "Why are you giving it up?" and "What are you replacing it with?" Unless the answer to the first question is, "It's keeping me from God," or, "To discipline myself," and unless the answer to the second is "God," or a subcategory such as helping the poor, it's probably not going to be helpful. 

However, I will say if you said "It's keeping me from God," you should see why and how, and if it is because it is something fundamentally opposed to Him, then you should permanently give it up. Otherwise look for a balance in it. Twitter is not bad in itself; the pope uses it. If Twitter is keeping you from God, try to find a balance where God is first, but you're still able to use it. Sometimes this isn't possible, but I feel that most of the time it is. 

I suppose my main concern with people giving up social media and phone/email usage is, "How is cutting yourself off from me and others helping you grow in holiness?" And it's a legitimate question I'm asking. 

The Silence of Lent

"Let us change our garments to sackcloth and ashes, let us fast and weep before the Lord, that our God, rich in mercy, might forgive us our sins." - Antiphon 1 for the Distribution of Ashes

The Holy Season of Lent is upon us! As we're well into Lent, and I've missed a few posts, I felt that another meditation would be most appropriate, especially since this season of Lent is so rich liturgically. 

Gueranger gives many good meditations and a small history of Lent in his The Liturgical Year. As the scope of my writing cannot cover all of his work, I recommend it. Some of his work can be found at the following website: http://www.liturgialatina.org/lityear/

The Liturgy has undergone a vast change overnight, although it may not be readily apparent to us. Many of the semblances of joy have been taken away from us. The Alleluia will not be uttered again until the Easter Vigil. This should be the most apparent to us. Gueranger, in The Liturgical Year, "Eve of Septuagesima," says:

"Our holy mother the Church knows how necessary it is for her to rouse our hearts from their lethargy, and give them an active tendency towards the things of God. . . . She takes the song of heaven away from us: she forbids our further uttering that Alleluia, which is so dear to us, as giving us a fellowship with the choirs of angels, who are for ever repeating it. How is it that we poor mortals, sinners, and exiles on earth, have dared to become so familiar with this hymn of a better land? It is true, our Emmanuel, who established peace between God and men, brought it us from heaven on the glad night of His Birth; and we have had the courage to repeat it after the angels, and shall chant it with renewed enthusiasm when we reach our Easter. But to sing the Alleluia worthily, we must have our hearts set on the country whence it came. It is not a mere word, not a profane unmeaning melody; it is the song that recalls the land we are banished from, it is the sweet sigh of the soul longing to be at home."

Gueranger puts so eloquently the purpose of the suspension of the alleluia, but also all of the liturgical suspensions. For we will not chant the Gloria, the Te Deum is not said in the Office, and eventually the statues will be veiled from us and the bells will cease to ring. It was also the tradition that the Church would even suspend the recitation of the Gloria Patri, as souls were so focused on the Passion of Christ. These were all done so that we might recall that we have not yet attained Paradise. Rather, we must continue our warfare against the world, the flesh, and the devils, all of which try so hard to turn our eyes from that final destination. 

And to inspire us towards that end, we are presented with our suffering Lord. We see Him fasting in the desert, and so are given a model with which to endure our temptations. We see Him in His Passion, and are given a model with which to undergo our sufferings. And we are called to do this in the solemn silence this season offers us. There is a profound silence of this liturgical season. On Ash Wednesday, we heard the words, "Pray to your Father in secret, and your father who sees in secret will repay you (Mt. 6:6)." This season does not hold the festive celebration that the Easter season will hold. Rather, it is a time to embrace silent prayer with God. 

And it is for this end, that the Church suspends her festivities. The silence is always most evident to me at Mass when the organ or other instrument is lacking. However, this is an invitation to encounter Jesus in a profound way. We are present at His Passion at Mass; let us then, meditate on that Passion and unite our own sufferings with His.