Contrasts

Dedicated to Tuevo, now absent for some time, yet with us still.

Lent is designed to contrast with Easter. Lent is 40 days, a study in consistency. Easter is a single day, the flash of euphoria on the understanding of the empty tomb. Lent is somber, everything serious and considered. Easter is jubilant, noisy and loud. Lent looks inside, concentrating on innermost sanctity. Easter proclaims to the world, unbelievable good news that just has to be shared. Lent is traditional, each facet imbued with meaning. Easter is spontaneous, in the moment and unguarded. Lent is winter, hunkered down and conserving energy. Easter is spring, bursting forth in blossom and flower.

So too, the external world during Lent, the season of preparation, is full of contrasts. Short days and long nights give way, noticeably, to longer days and shorter nights. The morning commute goes from peering into dark as far as headlights reach to shielding against the rising sun's first rays. Yardwork takes on new meaning, turning from snow shovels and bundles of fallen branches to roto-tilling and the appearance of first bulbs. Basketball and hockey seasons complete and spring training starts, followed by soccer and lacrosse. Skis are used for the last time and put away and bicycle tires have to be filled and brakes checked. The snow blower is moved to the shed and from the shed comes the lawn mower. Recipes for hearty soups and robust stews are filed away, replaced by salads and grilled hamburgers.

For many, external changes mirror internal moods. The dreariness of grey forests and shortened sunlight hours depresses spirits and accentuates the plodding workday rhythm. Cherry blossoms, tulips and daffodils perk up the senses and give a boost to days that seem both short and long at the same time. Then bright skies and light green leaves breed short sleeves and skirts, and people nearly bubble with pleasure, all smiles and laughter.

In the midst of all this, this flow beginning after the deep ebb, woven into this earth tones to pastels quilt, is the back and forth of each day's existence. This, too, is contrasts. Asleep, awake. Rushing, still. Waiting, busy. Bright, dark. Sad, happy. Frivolous, serious. Focused, scatter-brained. Emotional, stoic. Alone, together. Outgoing, self-absorbed. Careful, careless. Needy, generous. Pious, broken.

And it is not always clear which is what. Is it half-empty? Or half-full? Is it a dark cloud? Or a silver lining? Is it crisis? Or opportunity? Is it delusion? Or belief? Is it a time of trial? Or a blessing in disguise? Is it a natural consequence? Or is it God's will? Is it a valiant struggle ended? Or a blessed release from tribulation?

Into this tempest of ups and downs, highs and lows, certainties and questions, comes news not unexpected, but still news. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh back and He has called yet another of His faithful, steadfast in service and dedication, calm of spirit and yet completely spirited, teasingly humorous, faithful through adversity, a quiet pillar of joy. God's Kingdom on Earth is a bit smaller, the heavenly host a mite stronger, the hopeful faithful both saddened and joyous. The contrasts are both sharper and muddled. Glory be to the Lord, most high.

May God bless His flock, comfort them in grief and strengthen them to meet the morrow.