Lent is here. Traditionally, it is a time of fasting, prayer and almsgiving, for the purpose of renewal in life; we are meant for joy and happiness amid this ‘vale of tears’ and if we have not achieved it, or if our joy has ‘slipped’ a little, then this is the time for renewal.

The season is timely, because there could be many things that depress us: we may have personal worries and difficulties; we may feel utterly alone; our day by day financial circumstances may not be very secure; we may find the ‘sad state of our country, spiritually and politically’ depressing; and then there is the war in Afghanistan, the never ending fear of the rise of religious fanatics in the Muslim world, affecting our own country, and, for us Catholics, the sad and depressing news of all the child-abuse by our Church people in Ireland, with wounding accusations being thrown at the Pope, the Bishops and our Church.

Thirty years ago, in 1980, the National Pastoral Congress in Liverpool proclaimed, optimistically for us Catholics in England and Wales, the famous phrase of St. Augustine: “We are the Easter People and Alleluia is our Song”. It is perfectly true that that is how all Christians ought to be, and here I want to describe a short story of success in this field, as an encouragement to anyone who may find the ‘ideal’ beyond them, just at present.   The story is both personal and quite simple; it is connected with ‘death to self’ – always a good thing – if you think of the law of nature and of the Gospel: every person, every individual and, in general, every living species finds their greater good in giving of self, and not in selfish, self-centred grasping, at the expense of others.

My story concerns the act of driving – something most of us do.  People often say that, when a person gets behind a steering wheel, the change in personality is often so startling that little ‘horns’ can be seen to grow out of his, or her, head.  The car – this is the place to be ‘Lord’ of all you survey – and, in your own vehicle, woe betide the other who interferes, or gets in the way. On this occasion I was not on my own, but with others, on a fairly long journey. At one point, we came to traffic lights where the main road had the lights weighted in its favour.  There was another, smaller road, that had the next priority, and thirdly, there was a tiny dead-end road down which we were to go – two-way, but so narrow it would have been exceedingly awkward to meet another vehicle coming in the opposite direction. For this minor road, the waiting time for the traffic-light change, at a busy time of day, was about 4 minutes – and even then, there was time for only three cars to move out. When driving, I like to play a game against the car, trying to conserve fuel in many different ways, and at these lights, I turned off the engine to do just this. A companion, next to me, said after a bit: “Ignite the engine so we get a good quick start”. That made me feel rebellious, immediately, and my first reaction was to tell him not to interfere. But, what about the law of the Gospel, and doing what God wants, rather than what I want? In practice, this often means doing what another wishes, and not what I would wish. St. Benedict calls it, “Obedience to others and not just to the superior”, so I did what my companion suggested. We had to wait another longish time, and then we were away! My companion had no idea of the internal turmoil his ‘instruction’ had caused me, and I continued chatting as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had mattered. Later on, we were able to continue a lively and enjoyable conversation – all the fruits of a little self-giving – and something that brought a great joy and peace to me. The happy ending – had I followed my ‘ego’ and allowed my ‘horns’ to take over – could have been so horribly different!

However, it is not a bad thing to feel good about yourself. If a person goes out of their way, not just to do what he or she wants, but to do what the ‘Man Above’ would want, then a good feeling emerges. The credit goes to Him, who is the one who loves each of us, immensely, and that is the truth – for whoever reads these lines. The good I do, is not because of my good efforts, but because He lives in me. All too often, and for many, it is a continuous struggle to get the ‘balance’ right –  I  know to my cost, it is for me.

So, to be an ‘Easter People’ is what Lent is for, and, if we have ‘slipped’ a bit, we can catch up and find what we human beings are for – for love, joy and happiness. The high point of Lent is, of course, the last week which is Holy Week, a momentous time when the priesthood of Jesus is fully achieved.  During those crucial days, Jesus was the Perfect Priest who reconciles all to God, and each other. He achieved it in his own perfect way – a perfection of self-giving; the perfect ‘grain of wheat’ died and produced the perfection of Redemption. It is a fact that the priesthood of Jesus is achieved by Jesus the ‘lay-man’, without the benefit of any liturgical ceremony – except that of the ignominy of Calvary – and without the aid of any Church building. Jesus became so humble as to become ‘nothing’ out of love for us. For us Christians there is only one Priest in which all priesthood finds its meaning, and that is Jesus himself. He is the model of how all priesthood should be; both the Royal Priesthood of all believers and the ordained priesthood.

We too can learn, in the small and big things of life, to do the same, and one thing is guaranteed – depression will diminish; joy and peace, that nothing can take away, will grow. Jesus helps us along the road to growth – to fulfilled men and women – to where we are the “Easter People and Alleluia is Our Song”.