On the old liturgical calendar, beginning this Sunday, we would observe what are called the gesima Sundays—first, Septuagesima (roughly 70 days until Easter), then Sexagesima (roughly sixty days until Easter) and finally, the week before Ash Wednesday, Quinquagesima (roughly fifty days until Easter).
These seasonal church times were dropped in the late 1960's liturgical changes, but some Episcopal and Lutheran churches still observe them, as do the Catholic parishes which observe the traditional Latin Rite. I think they might have been dropped because Lent is the 'get ready' time for Easter, so these three gesima weeks would then be the get ready for the get ready. Perhaps redundant?
The 1960's saw the acceleration of everything — fast food came into vogue, faster cars, low maintenance and instant everything, having to be in three places at once. But the spiritual life isn't like that. Now and again something might knock us off our high horse, but as a rule the spiritual life is like the four seasons or life in the garden. Acorns and seed pods, fruits and vegetables don't just pop out of the plant, but they ripen and mature gradually, over time. The spiritual life is like that. So, the three weeks prior to the start of Lent invite us to turn our attention inward — spiritual antennas up! We have three weeks to consider how we're going to approach Lent. Not three weeks to decide what to give up especially of the candy-kind (hopefully we've matured beyond that) but how am I going to heal and return to my original nature — the Creator's inner plan for me.
In the introduction to When the Trees Say Nothing — a collection of nature writings by Thomas Merton, we read (speaking of Merton)...
Ever in search of his "true self" beneath his distress and artifice, he came in time to realize it was none other than his "green self" — his original nature healed of inner agitation, congestion, drivenness, turmoil, and suffering by entrainment to the merciful rhythms of the elements, the seasons, the creatures, in the particular bioregion of Kentucky that he called home."
But there it is — the spiritual life as self-confrontation and healing. There it is — the spiritual life as the discovery of the 'true self' under our anxieties and artifice. Artifice: the superficial, outer, surface-y shell I build or construct to navigate life safely.
So, this Sunday is Septuagesima, whether it's on the calendar or not. The change to liturgical purple means we've shifted into the penitential or turning time. I want a Lent that's going to be like a springtime — a time of sprouting, opening up, growing something new of myself, seeing more clearly by an inner light.
"Oh, look at that," might be a springtime refrain — the snow under the tree that refuses to melt, the first shoots of bulbs popping up through thawing ground, the lawn brightening into green, the daylight growing more intense. But ultimately these are interior possibilities — the sky, the ground, the water, the air — all within me.
Another way to state it perhaps — Lent is awakening (as is the springtime) to what it means to be truly alive — emphasis on the word "truly" — contrasted with life as consuming, defending, talking and opinionating, owning, hoarding, fussing, imagining, manipulating. My goodness, but we spend so much of our lives in these interior places. But I must be brave and truly humble enough to take it on.
