A SERMON FOR SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY
Today is Septuagesima Sunday, the
first Sunday in Shrovetide. We’re very
familiar with most of the Church’s liturgical seasons: Advent, Lent,
Paschaltide and so forth. But
Shrovetide? Shrovetide is one of the
shortest of these liturgical season, lasting from today only two weeks and
three days until Ash Wednesday heralds in the better-known period of Lent. What purpose does this season of Shrovetide
serve? Why does it even exist? After all, in the new Church, they got rid of
it altogether and simply jump overnight from the end of the Christmas season
into the period of fasting and mourning we call Lent.
Of course, the very fact that the
new Church abolished Shrovetide is our alarm bell that it must represent
something the modernists don’t want us to know, or remember, or do. And yes, there is something important that we
must do during Shrovetide, and to know what that something is we have only to
look at the name SHROVE-tide. Shrove
comes from an archaic English verb, to
shrive, which means to present oneself to a priest for confession, penance,
and absolution. Having done so, the
penitent has thus been shriven.
So the whole purpose of this
particular time of year is to confess our sins, to do penance, and to receive
forgiveness from God and the graces to do better. Obviously, this is how the Church wants us to
prepare for our Great Fast of Lent, the period par excellence to practice dispelling our vices and replacing them
with virtue.
Bearing in mind that this is the
Church’s practice during this season of Shrovetide, let’s compare it with what
the world does. And by this comparison
let’s understand why the modernists have abolished this season of confession
and penance. What does the world have to
offer that the modernists prefer instead?
After all, the whole purpose of Vatican II was to open the windows of
the Church and let the world in. The
period before Lent is not known as a time of penance in the world. It is known as “Carnival”.
Carnival comes from two Latin
words, carnis, which means “meat”,
and vale, which means farewell. Carnival is our farewell to meat, our fond
goodbye to the eating of flesh meat during the Lenten season, and the beginning
of the Great Fast. Of course, “carnival”
means a lot more than that, and the world’s carnivals, notably in Rio de
Janeiro and New Orleans are notorious for their debauchery. These worldly carnivals go far beyond the
innocent merry-making which is perfectly appropriate at this time for Catholics
who have just been shriven, and who are about to launch themselves into the
serious penances of Lent. Carnival has
become synonymous with the open practice of the most perverse forms of
depravity of which man is capable.
As Catholics, we must obviously reject
such extreme forms of bad behavior.
There can never be an open season on sin, and just because the world lets
its hair down for a few days doesn’t mean we should want to abuse this time to
offend God. Carnival is not an
opportunity for us to sin with impunity.
It is a reminder, rather, of the world’s essential depravity, man’s
fallen nature which naturally tends to self-gratification and pleasure, and
which we, as Catholics, must always be vigilant to reject.
Nor must we act like Pharisees by
rejecting the innocent pleasures that may be enjoyed at Carnival. A couple of years ago, I happened to be in
New Orleans for Mardi Gras, visiting an elderly Jesuit priest who has since
passed away. I was surprised to find
that New Orleans has many fine traditions at Mardi Gras, family events, formal
dances and costume competitions, and a generally sensible atmosphere of having
a good time before Lent begins. All
perfectly acceptable. We just need the
prudence to distinguish what is innocent from what goes beyond. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying our
Shrovetide, as penitent sinners who know their faults and are looking forward
to the Lenten season as an opportunity to rid ourselves of those faults once
and for all. It’s a new beginning after
all, and we can anticipate those spiritual joys just as we anticipate Christmas
with the festive decorations and parties that precede it.
Traditional Catholics
unfortunately have a tendency to denounce all pleasure as somehow sinful or
offensive to God. This is not the way of
the Church and never has been. Enjoy
your Shrovetide, first by finding the only true joy of being in the state of
grace. Do your duty and confess your
sins. It’s imperative that before you
let the good times roll your soul is firmly in that state of grace and remains
in that state so you can approach the altar on Ash Wednesday with true humility.
Make Mardi Gras the truly Catholic
festival it should be, and raise it back to the innocence and joyfulness that
befits the last big party of the Christmas season. God will surely smile on your happiness and bless
your rejoicing, preparing your great Lenten endeavors with the richness of his
blessings.
