What does lent mean anymore?
I had a daydream about a conversation with my friend Jesus. I asked him what he was giving up for Lent. He said he wandered in the desert without water or food for 40 days. He asked me what I was giving up for Lent. “I dunno,” I said. “Cookies ‘n’ cream ice cream?” Then Jesus punched me in the face. I stopped daydreaming. As shocked as I was by my own mind, I’ve decided that Jesus perhaps acted in the correct manner. Of course he’s angry. Lent has become a big joke. In my private Catholic school, we were told that the purpose of Lent was to suffer the way Jesus suffered. On Ash Wednesday, we had our heads anointed with ashes and then had to sit in the chapel and wait for everyone to confess their sins. My freshman year I decided to try my hand in it. I let the father put ashes on my head, and then I confessed. “I’ve done some really bad stuff,” I said. “You are forgiven,” he responded. Was it that easy? “Lent is the best!” I thought. However, I couldn’t decide what was big enough to gi
