When I was growing up, Lent was such a long dreary season. It was like a 40-day funeral. Our congregation had mid-week Lenten services every Wednesday evening. The adults rarely talked with each other before or after the service, as I recall, and when they did talk, it was in hushed tones. Maybe we just had poor lighting in the nave, but I remember it being pretty dark in there too. Most of the music seemed to be in minor keys. Lent felt like the cod liver oil of the liturgical calendar. You knew it was good for you, you didn’t like it while it was happening, and you were glad when it was over. What do you remember of the Lenten seasons when you were a child?
This is adapted from Looking into the Mirror: A Lenten Reflection, a free resource available in both English and Spanish from Women of the ELCA. It was written by Linda Post Bushkofsky.