Giving it Up for Lent

I grew up Protestant in a largely Catholic town.  The Catholics looked like they were having more fun.  Some of them went to mass every day, and they had lots of special days.  One of the practices that struck my fancy was giving up something for the forty days of Lent. All my friends would talk about what to give up. Come Ash Wednesday, they would get ashes on their foreheads and commit themselves to some sacrifice.  Usually it was something like snacks, or ice cream.  They got Sundays off.

My fascination with this exotic religion, compared to my quiet Congregationalism, faded in time, but the idea of giving something up for Lent did not. Catholicism was not a requirement for this particular spiritual practice. Many years I would give up potato chips, or chocolate.  Later as an adult I would give up wine.  I also added a positive dimension, to do something in honor of the season of reflection.  I had a lot of windows, even if they didn’t quite add up to the forty required. I washed one every day.  The glass doors didn’t stay clean, so they filled in the missing days.

This year Lent begins with Ash Wednesday on February 19th. I am returning to my giving up practice, but to add depth and meaning to it, The practice has to be hard and must serve some greater good. Being an economist, I think of my spending and investing and charitable giving as ways to embody my commitment to social justice in all its forms.  I am unhappy that some of the places I shop have enabled antidemocratic behavior by our president, so I explored what firms might be an appropriate target. 

I found lists on the top enablers internet, but quickly eliminated those I have no connection to.them. Don’t own their stock, don’t shop there much. Only three were consumer-oriented. My candidate list narrowed to three: amazon, Walmart, and Home depot.  I patronize Lowe’s rather than Home Depot because it’s closer, so no meaningful potential for action there. That left me amazon and WalMart.

I shop a lot at amazon, for books, clothing, household items, gifts. It won’t be easy, but if it were easy, why bother? So that’s my commitment. No shopping at amazon.  Even on Sundays.

You may not find Lent appealing, or amazon as your choice. but let this blog invite you to consider what firms you are subsidizing in their antidemocratic public policy.  Not all humans are primarily self-interested, but most business corporations are. If enough people boycott them and let the firm know what and why, we of the comfortable  class (as opposed to the oligarch class and the barely hanging on class) can use our spending power (or withhold it) to make a difference. If you want to take a second and third step, do write the company you are giving up for Lent and why.  And encourage your friends to do likewise. Together, we make a difference.

Groundhog Day 2026

This is my annual updated version a holiday variously known as the feast of Saint Bridget, Imbolc, Oimelc (both Celtic words related to lambing), and Groundhog Day.  I mentioned that the first of February was the only holiday devoted to housecleaning in an email to my daughter. Aha, she said that explains the backstory for the movie Groundhog Day.  It’s like house cleaning. You clean, it gets dirty, you clean it again, it gets dirty again… A good story line for a movie! At least my repetition, unlike the movie, is only once a year.

Imbolc, Oimelc, or Groundhog Day, all anticipate spring. It is one of the lesser-known cross-quarter holidays on the Wheel of the Year. In addition to Groundhog Day, it survived as the feast of the purification of the virgin (Mary) after the birth of her son 40 days earlier. It is also the day devoted to Saint  Bridget or Brigid. Bridget is the Celtic Triune Goddess in her maiden phase, converted to a Christian saint. The corn maiden from the previous harvest is brought out in her honor as a virgin once again, ready to encounter the Sun King reborn at Yul in a mating ritual of spring.

The purification part of this holiday was known in pre-feminist times as spring house cleaning. In ancient time among the Celts, Imbolc cleaning consisted of removing the Yule greenery from the home and burning it, cleaning up fields and home, and in Ireland, burning old Bridget wheels and making new ones. By Imbolc, most of us have taken down the tree and put away the decorations from Christmas, but if you haven’t, you can use Imbolc as the excuse for delaying it till now.  After Imbolc, you are at risk of being labeled a lazy pagan if you don’t deal of the winter holiday residue.

Imbolc is approaching the end of an indoor time. It’s cold and still pretty dark, but it is the waxing period of light and warmth following the winter solstice. It represents a final stage of wintry inwardness before the crocuses and daffodils invite us to look outward again. But as I write this onjanuary31s, I am looking out at heavy snow, cancellations of all activities for three days, record low temperatures.  What will Punxsutawney Phil think when he pokes his head out in the snow I Pennsylvania this year?and Housebound, we must find our spiritual practice within that space. It is the late stage of the hibernating season as we prepare for the cycle of life to begin again.

Spiritual practice has enjoyed something of a resurgence in recent decades.  A spiritual practice is anything that is centering, mindful, focusing, and connects you to the sacred in a very inclusive sense.  Practicing patience with difficult people is a spiritual practice.  Listening attentively is a spiritual practice.  Eing mindfully is a spiritual practice. Meditation and prayer are traditional spiritual practices in many religions.  But there is also a form of spiritual practice that invests the ordinary activities of daily life with significance by the spirit in which ww carry them out.

The essence of spring housecleaning as spiritual practice blends several Christian and Buddhist ideas.  One is humility; no task is too menial that we are above it, as in Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. The second is mindfulness, to be engaged in the moment, to calm the monkey mind, to focus all our attention on the window being washed or the floor being swept. The third is letting go of attachment to possessions as an encumbrance on our spiritual life, passing them on to another use or another user. The spiritual practice of spring housecleaning can incorporate all three.

Housecleaning means two different things.  One is the emphasis on clean, as in wash windows, polish furniture, remove cobwebs, paint, scrub floors, clean woodwork, dust the books. That’s both the humble and the mindful part.  In the words of one contemporary Buddhist writer, “after enlightenment, the laundry.” The other kind of housecleaning is to declutter, simplify, recycle, let go of possessions no longer needed, like the greens from Yul in the Celtic tradition.  That’s the letting go part. 

For many years my Lenten practice, for the forty days that begin sometime after Imbolc and stretch to the floating holiday of Easter, was to wash a window every day.  Then I moved to a smaller house, which taxed my ingenuity to find forty windows.  I included car windows, TV and computer screens, mirrors.  Friends helpfully offered their windows, but I did not wish to discourage their own spiritual practice.   There is something very satisfying, very symbolic in letting the light of the returning spring shine through a clean window, but it means more when it’s my window. 

A friend described a similar cleaning ritual, only she does it all on New Year’s Day.  She takes each of her many books down one at a time off the shelf, dusts it (and the shelf), and decides whether it stays or goes.  If books are a rich and meaningful part of your life, revisiting these old friends and deciding what role they still may play in your life and which ones should be shared with others is definitely a spiritual practice.  This particular ritual embodies both humility (dusting). mindfulness (concentrated attention on the books and the memories and teachings they hold) and letting go (books to be passed on). This year, I enlisted my granddaughter and her boyfriend, both book lovers, to help me to choose which ones they wanted and cart the rest to a newly discovered (to me) used bookshop in Anderson.

So, as the daffodils and crocuses pop their leaves through the snowy ground, as the groundhog in Punxatawny ponders his forecast, we can prepare to emerge from the hibernating season by renewing the spaces we inhabit. Like the bluebirds, whose house I just recently cleaned for their new nesting season  (hey refuse to return to a dirty nest), let us be about the humble tasks of maintaining our habitats. Spring housecleaning only comes once a year!

This is my annual update of this minor holiday. Enjoy!

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