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On Sunday evening, our family attended Forgiveness Vespers at our parish.  Orthodox Christians begin this season of Lent by asking forgiveness of those whom they may have offended by thought, word or deed, consciously or unconsciously.  It is, for me, a very meaningful service and I find myself feeling almost joyful at being relieved of so many burdens.  Of course, it is immeasurably difficult to look someone in the eye and ask their forgiveness when you know, without a doubt, that you have hurt or neglected him or had some unkind thoughts about him.  Grown men and their teenage sons sobbing on each others shoulders is not an unusual sight, and yet we all manage to remain respectful and non-gawkish.  It doesn’t feel forced or phony, but very real.  I think we are particularly blessed to have a smaller parish for this very reason.  You usually know the person you are asking for forgiveness.

This service also marks the beginning Great Lent of our journey into Pascha.  We have several “Lents” during the church year, but this is the only one we call, “Great,” because it leads to the feast of feasts, Pascha, when our Lord is resurrected from the dead, and thus rescued us sinners from death.  God’s great compassion shines down on us and I don’t think anyone can truly comprehend  fully what this means.  Maybe some more holy and learned than I are able, but I can only stand in awe.  This  Great Lenten fast is also the most grueling in what it expects of us, more services, restricted eating and less “entertainment”  thereby removing distractions that normally prevent us from focusing attention on the ways we have been drawn into personal sins that have caused a breech in our relationship with God and ultimately all who share the world with us.

Earlier in the day, I told the kids that Lent would begin sometime in the middle of the Vespers service.  “Watch for the Vestments to change from white to purple.  When that happens, you know Lent has begun.”  And so, somewhere in the middle of the Vespers service, David poked me in order to get my attention, as he often does in church and I leaned down to hear what he has to say.  He pointed his thumb towards the altar where the altar party was re-assembling and said in his very innocent and matter of fact wide eyed way, “It’s Lent,” and then he turned his attention back to the service book.

Yup.  It’s Lent alright and I’m already feeling the hunger pangs.  Unfortunately, I was and am nowhere near ready for this Lent.  It has come remarkably early this year, just about 8 weeks after Christmas.  It seems as though I lost a week of my life shoveling out from two different blizzards over the course of 5 days…not a “snow event” we’re used to dealing with here in the mid-Atlantic.  I feel a little bit lost and disoriented.  Lent or not, I find myself double checking the calendar for the date and sometimes even the day of the week.  The feeling almost reminds of me of some of the confused expressions my former stroke patients would give me when I asked them for the date. 

But, Lent comes as it does every year, whether I am truly ready or not.  By about Sunday I will have settled in and be feeling OK with whole idea of Lent.  After about three weeks, I will start looking at the calendar and counting down the days.  At week 5, I’ve usually just sort of “given in” to the struggle.  The Great Canon of St. Andrew takes on particular meaning at this point. It helps, having done this before to know that I will “get there,” but it’s always a little tough at the beginning.

A blessed Lent to you if you follow this observance…if not, but your journey to springtime be joyous!