About this blog

This is a window into the weird world of Anglicanism, as experienced on a Cathedral Close. Has anything much happened since Trollope's Barchester Chronicles? You will still see the 'canon in residence' hurrying across to choral Evensong, robes flapping, as the late bell chimes. But look carefully and you will notice he is checking the football score on his iPhone as he runs. This is also a writer's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the novelist's life. And it's a fighter's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the judo mat. Well, the agony, anyway.

Wednesday 22 February 2012

What to Wear in Lent

What To Wear In Lent.  That sounds a bit like the title of a Ladybird Book. And what is the answer?  Sack cloth and ashes?  Purple?  Smudge of ash?  Unfortunately, Lent is not all about denying yourself treats, or I'd be feeling a bit smug.  After all, I've given up buying myself new clothes all year, let alone for Lent.  That's Iron Woman triathlon treat-denial that is, not just a footling little marathon.

Today I'm wearing black.  Readers of this blog will know not to read any significance into that choice.  I wear black roughly four days in seven.  In the winter, that is.  In the summer I wear a lot of white.  There's something to look forward to.  Black is smart, black is slimming, black is the default setting.  It is also traditionally the colour of mourning.  And I am mourning, as it happens.  An old friend died yesterday.  I'm guessing she'd prefer me to be in vibrant colours.  That would be a better celebration of her life.  But no, I'm in black, feeling bleak, wishing I could have gone across to the cathedral this evening to be ashed.  To hear the echoes of Allegri's Miserere chasing down the nave.  To remember that I am dust and to dust I will return.  

This is more what Lent is about.  One day it will be summer.  One day I will be wearing white.  I know this.  But there's a journey to be done first.  There's no fast forward to Easter.  

1 comment:

  1. And if there were no journey then we would be there already. No lessons to learn, no joy, no grief and in short, no life.

    I came across this today. I liked her Lent2 post. http://www.cynrogalski.com/