lent

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i am not good at observing lent. lent is traditionally observed through fasting, which i am not good at. traditionally, fasting is observed through restrictions on what proteins one incorporates in their diet as well as a general reduction in the quantity of food one eats, neither of which i am good at. this observance serves as a sacrifice -- which i am not good at -- which is meant to remind us of and unite us to christ's death through the mortification of the flesh.

it is common, though, to interpret the lenten practice more liberally in pursuit of the spirit of the goal, which i am not very good at. many people (besides me) will give up something small, like sweets, or otherwise at least try temporarily to kick a habit which is bad for their health, something i hate to do.

now, i am being a little silly in my framing: it is not the case that i am bad at traditional fasting and then failing my way through every possible substitution. i am quite good, in my opinion, at the practice of abstaining from food, and in my religious zeal i used to practice rather intense fasts. but my practices were met with concern for my health, as i already have trouble with eating. i frequently miss meals, on some days i struggle to eat even small portions, and even on my better days, i probably should be eating more than i am. i realized how my zeal was more a self-aggrandizing masquerade for a self-harm that was neither spirtiually challenging or profitable. since then, i've made a rule not to ever practice fasts as literal reduction in food intake or restriction on the type of food i eat. now i practice far more mature forms of religiously performative self-aggrandizement, like writing unnecessary and unhelpful posts on the internet about how deeply i pretend to understand sewi through alleged humility.

i have scheduled my bottom surgery around the time of pentecost, and in fact the day i arrive in the city where it's happening will be the first day of pentecost. the spiritual significance of what is happening to me is not lost on me. St Paul says that in the resurrection of the dead, we are "sown a natural body," and "raised a spiritual body." even as christ was raised a spiritual body, i am also being raised from the dead very soon. in power and glory and incorruption, and that which is raised from the dead will never again die, even as sewi promised never again to flood the earth. and as noah's dove returns to him with an olive branch, the first sign of a totally reborn world, that the waters which for forty days and forty nights destroyed the world are now receding and giving way to something totally new, the holy spirit descended in the form of a dove onto christ. "This is my son, in whom i am well pleased."

but even riding into jerusalem and being hailed as king, jesus understood that she would imminently die. even as trans people have been telling everyone around us for years that we are about to die, nobody has believed us. even at the very eve of our death they don't believe us. and no matter how many times jesus warned her followers, they would not believe her that she was to be crucified. i do want my spiritual body. more than anything else i want to be reborn in power and glory. but semi-privately, i have held that my decision has been spurred by the fear of the decision being taken from me. i do not know when in the future my right to this surgery will be revoked.


and so after three years of miraculous and charismatic ministry, of raising the dead and feeding the poor and healing the sick, in anticipation of jesus's imminent inauguration as king, her disciples (not understanding her warnings of the exact sequence of events that would unfold) were completely lost at her apparently sudden death, and just as sudden her resurrection from the dead, and then the resurrection of the many, and then her ascent into heaven. they did not have eyes to see, and so when they saw, they were blinded by the light of the revelation of sewi. jesus was gone in glory just as soon as she had arrived, and it was in this apocalyptic shift of their understanding that the disciples withdrew to pray for nine days. and then it was the holy spirit which descended on them, like tongues of fire, giving them insight and wisdom after all that had happened, letting them speak with the tongues of angels, that everyone now would hear and listen and understand.

this is the pentecost i am looking to be resurrected into. and this is the wisdom of the holy spirit i am praying for in preparation of the day of my resurrection. but even as the disciples didn't understand, neither do i understand the nature of what it means to rise from the dead. however lost they were at the death of their teacher, i am so much more infinitely lost at the practice of prayer. i am so much more infinitely lost at the practice of getting better, of having integrity, at communicating with honesty, at acting with empathy, at forgiving, at mercy... the character of jesus whom i love is lost on me, even as i try desperately to cling to her and be more like her.

i am trying to be healthier. i am trying to get better. different folks interpret fasting differently, but it's often understood as somewhere between trying to get better spiritually and trying to get better physically. as i explained above, traditional fasting is not conducive to either for me. i made the intention this lent to fast from sleeping in. i want to get up and watch the sun rise every morning of lent. even as it rises earlier and earlier in the spring. i want to be vigilant and proactive, i want to be awake to witness the coming of the sun (of the son). i am so tired of being tired. of keeping myself up with anxiety, filling my days with sleeplessness or sleeping away the light. i don't want to live for eternity in the outer darkness, where the worm does not die and the fire is not quenched.

but i haven't kept this fast. besides work days, when i am awake before the sun regardless, i have not kept this fast a single day.

i made a newer, simpler resolution to look on christ crucified every day, a resolution which i also forgot the next day.

i believe that jesus in her abundant mercy is destroying my fasts, is destroying my practices, because i am clinging to signs of the things i am not clinging to. i do not know if it will help me get better, but certainly the symbol of good health is not the same as good health. i need to get better and not perform metaphors for getting better. i don't know why it is so hard for me to get better, and i'm scared every day at how bad i am at it. but i think that maybe i am getting at least a little better. and i think it's my resurrection of the body that is healing me. even now a light shines under the crack in the door, but my hope is that on the day i am raised in power, i will be totally transformed. i know life is not so simple as getting a pussy and instantly becoming a better person; but i do understand that there is an intimate connection between the transition i am undergoing and the integrity of character i'm pursuing. i know that transition is making me a better person. i know that living in misery in a dying body makes one worse at being good.

there is only one story i like about fasting, which is the legend of St. Christopher:

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St. Christopher was a tall, quiet, and humble man. he had the head and heart of a dog. he reasoned he couldn't do much good in the world of his own power, and looked instead to live a life of integrity through service. living with honesty and kindness, he worked to serve the king, the most powerful person he knew. he figured that the king could do more good in his abundant wisdom and power than St. Christopher could ever do.

one day, St. Christopher was with the king as they were listening to a jester perform a song. the king was laughing and in good spirits, until the jester's song turned to a verse about the devil. the king's face went white, and St. Christopher reasoned that if the king was afraid of the devil, the devil must be more powerful than he, and it would be better to server the devil instead.

he wandered the countryside looking for the devil, and was approached by a band of robbers. when he told them he was looking for the devil to serve him, one of the marauders revealed himself to be the devil. and so St. Christopher joined their band, and they went on through the country, robbing and pillaging and extorting whoever they found.

one day, there was a cross on the side of the road, and on seeing it, the devil turned and fled on his horse in the opposite direction. St. Christopher again reasoned that whoever this cross belonged to, they must be more powerful than the devil, and that he would better serve them instead.

he asked from town to town if anyone knew anything about this cross, and he learned that the cross was a sign of jesus. wanting to know how he could serve her, he was directed to a hermit in the forest.

he asked the hermit how to serve jesus, and the hermit told him he should fast. but being so tall, St. Christopher said his metabolism was too fast for him to fast, and so he'd never been much good at it. the hermit told him then that instead he should pray, but St. Christopher said he was too impatient to be any good with prayer, and never could keep the habit.

finally, the hermit directed him to a river nearby, where many children would cross to the other side to play, but the current was strong and was known on ocassion to sweep them away. the hermit told St. Christopher that if he helped the children cross the river, this would be in service of jesus.

so St. Christopher built a cabin near the river, and spent his days walking children back and forth on his shoulders, and making sure they didn't drown. one particularly stormy night, early in the spring when the river was high and torrential with the melting runoff from the snow, a child knocked on his door asking to be taken back home across.

St. Christopher insisted the child come inside instead and stay the night, but the child persisted that she should be carried back tonight. he begged the child to at least come inside for dinner first, and she relented. but as the storm grew worse and St. Christopher tried still to convince her over dinner to sleep the night, she still maintained after dinner that she would not stay the night, and she needed to be carried back home that night.

so he did carry her across the river, even though he felt the torrent might overtake him. as he went on, the river seemed impossibly wide, and he was sure they would both drown. the child seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and he felt she weighed even as much as the whole earth, and that they would surely sink. but he persisted and got her to the other side, just as the rain started to relent.

"child, i begged you to stay the night. i was so sure we would both drown in the river, even at a point feeling as though i was carrying the weight of the entire world on my shoulders." the child responded, "but you did in fact carry the weight of the whole world, and she who made it. i am jesus who you seek." asking for a sign, jesus instructed him to plant his staff firmly in the earth. as he did, the weather cleared, and the staff instantly became like a living branch and sprouted roses. when he saw this, the child vanished.

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i want the humility to admit that i can't fast, and that i can't pray. i want to do what i can, and the only things i know, even when it feels like i can't. the things i was made for, deep in my body. the new creation that lives inside the old, waiting to be born. the waters of your mercy are like a torrent i fear might wash me away. but i want to continue in the faith that as violent as your waters are, as much as they seem they will leave nothing left, they are stripping me only of the weakness i was sown in. that the power and conviction to carry you stands upright like a rock that can weather any force. in the end, after baptism in water and spirit, all that is left of me is trust in you. only that which has the power to withstand all. you transform me from dead wood into a living branch, giving me deep roots that anchor me in you, i will not fall. you feed me with bread and adorn me with fragrant flowers, i will trust in you. you crown me as queen in glory and power, out of your love for me despite all my failings, as "i am a worm and not a man," even as you were crowned in thorns through much suffering through much suffering, i will not fall.


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