HeartBeat:Erasmus, on being taxed with failure to observe the Lenten fast, replied: "I have a Catholic soul but a Lutheran stomach," writes Maurice Neligan.
I'm not much good at Lenten resolutions either. In early years there didn't appear to be too much to give up apart from sweets and chocolate but I still have no recollection of making it through to the end, even allowing for the controversial pause on St Patrick's Day.
The trouble was that the first of our group to lapse immediately became a serpent who could not rest until we all shared in the fall. The theory was that if we were all going to Hell we might as well go as a group.
Negative resolutions, giving up things, were one thing; positive resolutions were quite another. Just such a resolution, to go to Mass every morning during Lent, led me to question the whole value of the experience from my little perspective.
Left to myself there would have been no problem; it would have petered out like so many resolutions before it. This was different, because my mother knew about it and took upon herself the role of some sort of goad on behalf of the Divine. My father was included in her remit, as total abstinence was demanded of him during the period.
I didn't think God would worry too much about one backsliding youth, but my mother did not share that view. She, with some deep knowledge of Heavenly logistics, asserted that God would take a dim view of such Lenten apostasy. Furthermore, she was in a position to do something about it as she set the alarm clock and rooted out her only son and cast him fasting into the cold and dark.
I suppose it improved me and that ultimately it will prove rewarding.
I think I must have made it through to the end that Lent, as I never would have had the guts to stand up to the mother, in her messianic zeal for my salvation, and I would surely still remember the ensuing Armageddon had I quit.
In those far-off days, the accomplishment of reaching Easter Sunday with your resolution intact was a mixed blessing. Doubtless it stored up treasures for the next world but there was a downside. The fallen begrudgers like me did not like the righteous who made them feel guilty.
They were frequently cast from the group by the sinners, ie the rest of us, until, as we defiantly asserted in the face of the Lord, they copped themselves on. The ways of the Righteous are hard, but then I wouldn't really know.
To this day I am not sure how the whole Lenten experience affected us. Masses, retreats, fasting, the seven churches on Holy Thursday, the solemnity and slightly scary ceremonies of Good Friday and the rebirth into the real world on Easter Sunday were our lives then, in a world light years from today.
Of course, Lent didn't go away. It didn't change; but we did. En passant, I must observe that I must have dealt with some pretty stingy priests over the years as my accumulated Ash Wednesday markings, including those of the burnt cork variety of student days, wouldn't have matched one year's application for Bertie, the chief elf. I suppose he's much holier than me.
The resolutions changed, of course. The positive spiritual and life-changing ones were favoured by some; most of us settled in or paid lip service to the "what'll I give up" variety.
In this group, none obviously headed for sainthood; peer pressure, as usual, ruled the herd. I didn't smoke, so giving up cigarettes was not a possibility and in theory I settled for sacrificing the cinema (the pictures in those days). That of course, as the Lord well understands, depended on what was showing. Beer and more exotic things had not as yet reared their ugly heads. They did soon enough, with the passage from school to university. Regimented religious fervour was a thing of the past and you were on your own, not that such deliberation ever filled your mind.
Cigarettes and now beer were the targets for the resolutions; "other more exotic temptations" could also be, in theory. For most of us, the latter were but figments of our imagination and you couldn't realistically give up your imagination. What else would occupy your mind before you went to sleep?
Mea culpa, Lord; my resolutions usually failed. I have no excuses. I simply wasn't a Lent person. Sadly, this did not weigh too heavily on my mind or conscience and I suspect there are a few more like me out there.
I became aware as I grew older of another aspect of Lenten resolution. This included not only the spiritual benefit of self-deprivation or mortification, but also includes temporal here and now personal benefit.
It went roughly as follows; "if I go off the cigarettes I'll save money", or "if I go off the beer, sweets, cakes, etc, I'll lose weight and be able to sin again more comfortably, and paradoxically have stored up some brownie points for the hereafter".
I think there's a flaw in that reasoning. For some, there is no religious or spiritual element. It's a good time to put aside the drink or what- ever because lots of people are doing it at the same time and you can all be miserable together.
Honestly God, I really did try this year and I have to confess abject failure. I resolved not to criticise the Minister for Trolleys or the HSE. It lasted until I bought the paper on Ash Wednesday, less than 12 hours later. Even for me this was a record.
Maurice Neligan is a cardiac surgeon