Donut...

One of our church staff persons brought in a box of really fancy donuts from the Oakmont Bakery. Technically, they weren't donuts, but "Paczki" (pronounced "punch-key") rolls, which are filled with various sugary stuff. Of Polish heritage, these sinful little fellows were historically produced as a way to use up all of the prohibited sugar and "treat" makings before Lent began. The modern example of Paczki from the Oakmont Bakery certainly demonstrates clearing the cupboards of every sweet ingredient available and cramming them into a filled donut.

As I was surveying the box of Paczki, trying to ascertain which one looked most appetizing, and working my mind to see if I could rationalize actually eating en entire roll, rather than a reasonable half, it dawned on me that the difficulty of my choice, complicated by the ethical ramifications of whether it would be half or whole, was occurring only with the challenge of this single box of goodies. No other donuts were under consideration, nor were there healthier treats harboring about. My anxiety was only being raised by this one box of eight Paczki. Why is that important?

How much of the anxiety that drains our energy or hampers our personal spiritual progress comes from just our limited "box" in which we live our our reality? We get all torqued because the kids have  myriad sports activities, or school concerts, or other "required" engagements to which we must provide chauffeur service. We struggle over balancing work with family time and carving out some personal leisure time to "maintain our sanity," we claim. And it becomes a vicious cycle, all within our own little donut box. "What kind of car do I want to drive?" or "Which neighborhood with a good school district do I want to live in?" are typical "donut box" questions asked by those of us who really live in a privileged setting. And like me "stressing" over which sinful treat to sneak, it's really laughable, when we think about it.

The greater majority of folk in our society aren't gazing into a box of gooey donuts. They are worried about keeping enough food on the table for their kids to eat; many parents have to send their kids to school hungry, where they hopefully will get a breakfast and a subsidized lunch. And the school district was not of their choosing; it just happened to be attached to the housing they could afford.  Transportation--or lack thereof--may govern whether a decent job is accessible to them, and health care may be a pipe dream, although some may have been eligible to acquire it for themselves and their children through the Affordable Care Act.

Since the Paczki are baked to get rid of the "sinful excesses," maybe Lent can be a time for us to reflect on the choices we have before us, and the degree to which we stress over making them. Perhaps Lent can be a time when we shed our preoccupation with this, use our faith disciplines to develop a fresh spirit of gratitude for the "donut box" we have to choose from, and possibly even engage in servant ministry on behalf of those whose choices are far more limited than ours, and for whom "dessert" is a distant dream.

By taking only half of one of the Paczkis, I sought to reduce my guilt. Don't do that with Lent. Let's not "give something up" just to feel better about ourselves. Instead, let's look for ways to develop empathy for those whose journey is more difficult than our own. Pray not only for these others, but pray that God will help us grow in sincere empathy and understanding of their context. And may this empathy lead to opportunities to engage in servant ministry in coming days.

There is a richness to the Christian experience that often blesses us like a fresh box of delightful treats. But the length and breadth and depth of our faith will lead us to a far greater understanding of the human condition, our fellow members of the human community, and those whose lives are lived totally in the margins. I wonder if this is what the scriptures mean when they say:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard quality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death--even death on a cross. [Philippians 2:5-8]

Let the Lenten Journey begin, Yinz!