Lenten Embertide, Wednesday, 2020
A day of fasting buried in the belly of the week, easy to forget, but the news from the world, all bad, reminds me to prune my soul of sin, to take nothing for granted as nature exacts her price even while rising in glory from winter’s gloom. We take our walk, the dog and I, the evening chills, the chaliced moon shines on concrete and grass, on houses, trees, on crocuses and daisies, on the night bird that sings, on the fluttering shadows that breathe beside me. A long time ago, before the hours were clocked, Jonah offered himself to the sea. Three days and nights, buried in the belly of a whale, he was as one lost among the planets and stars of a fevered constellation before the night threw him onto a distant shore. It was then that he began again, unknowing as a newborn, a stranger even unto himself, picked clean, self-shorn.
This poem appeared in Lydwine Journal. Please check out the work there. It’s really a wonderful journal...
Today is an Ember Day. Adapted from the old testament, ember days are meant for fasting, almsgiving, and prayer. In Latin the days are called Quator Tempora, meaning four times—so four times a year, corresponding with the seasons, the church sets aside these special days.
The days always fall on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. The winter, or Advent, ember days come the week following the feast of St. Lucy. The spring, or Lenten, ember days are celebrated on the first full week of Lent. The Whitsun, or summer, days are celebrated during the week of Pentecost. And, finally, the Autumn, or Michaelmas, days fall after the Feast of the Holy Cross.
On these days, we are called to remember the great gifts of the natural world and to give thanks to God for the particular gifts of the previous season, which continue to nourish and sustain us. Therefore, during these Lenten ember days, our prayers, while still penitential, should be infused with joy and thanksgiving.
Almsgiving, giving generously to the poor, is part of the embertide tradition because there are always those less fortunate than us. Our sacrifices for the poor and suffering please God and help those in need to know, in a practical way, that they are loved and cared for.
Finally, the traditions of fasting and abstinence, which are so misunderstood in our time, are a central focus of the ember days. St Basil the Great reminds us:
Fasting gives birth to prophets and strengthens the powerful; fasting makes lawgivers wise. Fasting is a good safeguard for the soul, a companion for the body, a weapon for the valiant, and a gymnasium for athletes. Fasting repels temptations, anoints unto piety; it is the comrade of watchfulness and the artificer of chastity. In war it fights bravely, in peace it teaches stillness.
If all fasting did was make lawgivers wise, it would be worthwhile, but it does more than that. It strengthens us, yes, but also reminds us on our dependence and need, our weakness, it teaches us to appreciate the goodness of the world God has given us, calms us and, hopefully, helps us to become less self-centered.
To fast when the Church tells us to fast is a good thing. We are so used to doing things when we want: dieting for swimsuit season; giving up alcohol in January (that stupid dry January thing), abstaining from meat on the even stupider Meatless Mondays. There’s a reason for the liturgical seasons of the Church and the practices that accompany them. We moderns are, more often than not, willful and unwise, when what we really need is to be free from our own willfulness and attentive to the wisdom of the Lord.
On Wednesdays and Saturday of ember weeks, we fast as we do on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. On Fridays, we fast and abstain from meat. If you find yourself complaining that abstaining from meat makes no sense or that you don’t even like meat, blah, blah, blah, stop being childish and remember that obedience is the soil in which goodness grows. Jesus didn’t approach the apostles and say, “let me explain The Way to your satisfaction and tailor it to your individual desire and will and then, if you feel like it, join me.” He said, “Come follow me.”
When God commanded Jonah to preach to the Ninevites, Jonah took off to Tarshish. He hated the Ninevites so much that he disobeyed God. You know the rest of the story. The ember days are like those days Jonah spent in the belly of the whale, days to strip ourselves of our willfulness, to fast so that we can be filled with God’s wisdom, or, at the very least, to obey despite our desire not to.
God forgave the Ninevites. The whale spit Jonah from his mouth, onto safe shores. But even after all that, Jonah was still angry with God and sat, pouting, under a tree. Still, God forgave him.
Like Jonah, we will become angry with the Lord, misunderstand Him, even raise our fists to Him. We will fail again and again. This says much about us. God will still forgive us when we repent. He will love us always despite our evil ways. This says much about God.
What’s your Ninevite? What do vice do you need to be shorn of?
Are you willful and unwise?
Lenten Embertide, Wednesday, 2020