It snuck up on me. I would say that it always does, but that's not true. It snuck up on me this year because I'm living in a different space than I have for the last few years, and right now, my space is relatively liturgical-calendar-less.
Today is Fat Tuesday. Which is a stupid name, I'll be the first to admit. Even Mardi Gras is dumb, because simply saying "Fat Tuesday" in another language doesn't make it any cooler. Today being Fat Tuesday means tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of the season of Lent, or the countdown to Easter. Lent and Advent- the fraternal twins of waiting- identical in nature, markedly different in appearance. Growing up, these words meant nothing to me, except that Ash Wednesday was the one day a year my friend Allie came to school with a smudge on her forehead, and that Advent was half of the words in the phrase "Advent Calendar," which we all know is kid-speak for "candy." Advent is a conversation for another day, but I wanted to pause tonight to say something about Fat Tuesday.
On a very basic level, Fat Tuesday is about celebrating the good things in life (the fat) before we enter the season of Lent and leanness, trying to weave sacrifice into our daily lives to make us mindful of Christ's sacrifice for us. A church community in Spokane that I have been a casual part of, off and on for the last several years, found a unique way to celebrate this strangely named holy-day by celebrating the Mass with a jazz liturgy written by a local jazz expert/professor/performer/director/etc. A jazz combo leads all of the music, choirs perform fun, funky pieces, and we celebrate the Eucharist together, followed by a dessert buffet of EPIC proportions, the likes of which only Lutherans could really put together. If I was still living in Spokane, I'd be there right this very minute. And as much as I'd be enjoying the music and the atmosphere, what I miss the most right now is the people. I have dear friends in that community, friends that have invested in me and invited me into their lives and provided opportunities for me to grow and serve. Additionally, the crowd that gathers for this particular service is usually pretty representative of not only that church community, but also my university community, so I can see myself looking around the sanctuary last year, knowing people all across the room from a whole bunch of different activities and events, and that makes me feel warm and fuzzy and ecumenical and hopeful inside. Add in some dessert, and it couldn't get too much better.
But when I got up this morning I wasn't thinking about any of that, because I had forgotten that today is Fat Tuesday. None of the communities I'm involved in here in Portland are particularly attune to the church year, and since the dates of Lent and Easter rotate each year, it can be easy to miss. But I need the reminder, because, in some ways, the past six months have already been a season of leanness, and while I have a lot of "fat" to celebrate, it can be easy to miss. Knowing today is Fat Tuesday reminded me of my old "fat" and how much I miss it, and how grateful I am for the people I met and worked and worshipped with in Spokane. And it reminds me to be thankful for my new "fat," and to celebrate and revel in that today, even if it looks different from my past. So thanks, Fat Tuesday. I'm guessing after several thousand years of church history, we're not going to come up with a better name, but the purpose is still moving us forward, shaping us into God's own people, and for that, I'm thankful.
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