Lenten humility

Giving up something for Lent was not part of my Christian childhood. When I first heard it suggested---by a very traditional Episcopal priest---it sounded foreign but intriguing. Since hearing that sermon many years ago, I have tried (not always successfully) to sacrifice something beginning on Ash Wednesday until Easter Sunday. Sometimes it's meant giving up a favorite food; other times it's meant adding a new prayer to my daily devotions.

Reading what Pope Benedict XVI said this Ash Wednesday reminded me of one of those prayers. At his general audience, the pope said, "Conversion means changing the direction of the path of our lives. It is going against the current when the 'current' is a superficial, incoherent, and illusory way of life that often drags us down, making us slaves of evil or prisoners of moral mediocrity."

We live in a world where going with the current means looking out for ourselves. All around us, the culture preaches the glories of self-ism. If we're women, we shouldn't let our children stand in the way of self-fulfillment. As parents, we're encouraged to praise our children endlessly, to be sure their self-esteem is high. We admire those who are self-made and successful. Lent is a good time to refocus on what is truly good, i.e. self-denial and self-sacrifice, with Christ as our ultimate example.

In his autobiography (which is where I came across it), Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas refers to a prayer called the "Litany of Humility," composed by Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val. It's a stark reminder of how countercultural Christianity is supposed to be:

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.

From the desirie of being esteemed,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being extolled,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being honored,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being praised,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being preferred to others,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being consulted,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being approved,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being despised,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of suffering rebukes,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being calumniated,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being forgotten,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being ridiculed,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being wronged,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being suspected,

Deliver me, Jesus.

That others may be loved more than I,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be chosen and I set aside,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be praised and I unnoticed,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be preferred to me in everything,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may become holier than I, provided that I become as holy as I should,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.