Part 1: Mardi Gras
Part 2: Ash Wednesday
Part 3: Giving Shit Up
Part 4: No Meat
Part 5: Palm Sunday
Part 6: Holy Thursday
Part 7: Good Friday
Part 8: ...Saturday
Part 9: Easter Sunday
Part 10: The Ascension
Ash Wednesday
That next morning is the listed official start to Lent: Ash Wednesday. This is a day where we put ash on our head to break the monotony of a standard holy day of obligation mass. Why do we do this? It doesn't matter. We put it in the shape of a cross and that's all that matters to us.
If you Protestants don't like it, then you don't like the cross, which means you hate Jesus. And you can't hate Jesus. He brought us Mardi Gras, so he's cool with me. The ashes don't matter to anyone but school children and old people anyway.
To the elderly, the ashes are nothing more than a cruel reminder that they can't be cremated or else they go to hell.
To children, it's a challenge. As a kid in a catholic school, as soon as that ash goes on your head, so begins "Operation Forehead Protection". All day long, nothing else matters other than seeing how long you can keep that smudge on there. It's the unspoken desire of every kid to be the last one standing. I always wanted to show up the next day, smudge in tact, but I could never come up with head protection more nuanced than a bag over the head, and that didn't work out so well. The problem with this challenge? In the same way that it is always hardest to stand still as soon as you are told to stay put, your forehead never itches so much and so badly as it does that day. I rarely lasted past lunch, which got delayed thanks to stupid mass (It's ok. I had a lot for dinner the night before). Often enough I got the lazy smudge that fell off as soon as the arthritic old man put it on my hand.
It never even occurred to me how insane that day was until college, when a Jewish* friend of mine got out of class at the same time as an Ash Wednesday service and found himself surrounded by ash-headed youths. He ran back reporting to me that he was just swarmed by the Army of God. I took that as a compliment, bringing me back to the good ole days of the crusades. Man, those were fun times...unless you weren't Catholic. Not so fun then.
*Atheist
As an adult, I assume a healthy number of Catholics don't remember it's Ash Wednesday till I do: I turn on Around the Horn and see Tony Reali with that smear on his head as I finish that second bacon cheeseburger. There's ways to go at this point. Good Catholics turn off the TV and find the nearest service. Bad** Catholics say "oops" and keep watching for that playoffs discussion.
All Catholics feel guilty about it. Mostly, I'm just impressed how well Toni keeps that ash protected. He must be going on 6 hours, at least.
**Most
I love that you are doing this! Some years I wanted to keep the smudge for as long as possible in a stand off, others when I got a particularly heaping glob -- I'm pretty sure they mixed the ashes in with holy oil or some shit, is that what it's called? -- I wanted to run to the bathroom and rub it off immediately.
ReplyDeleteI can't wait for the Good Friday cook out post.