Lenten Sacrifices

This March at the schola has felt, in a very real way for some of us, like a season of suffering.

Several of our staff have been sick, some away from classrooms they love, carrying it quietly, and often coming back before they’re fully well. It’s been one of those stretches where energy is low, and the everyday work of teaching and leading has taken real perseverance.

It’s hard not to see this through the lens of Lent.

Lent isn’t just about giving something up. It’s about something deeper. We show love by giving of ourselves when it’s not easy.

And that’s exactly what I’ve seen this month among the staff. Not in big, dramatic ways, but in the quiet, faithful ones. Showing up when it’s hard, caring for students while feeling unwell, subbing for one another, and simply continuing on are acts of sacrifice.

At Tenebrae on Sunday, our senior choir sang the Lacrimosa from Mozart’s Requiem. It’s a hauntingly beautiful piece, full of sorrow and longing. “Lacrimosa” means “full of tears.” I definitely felt myself tearing up while they were singing.
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It’s hard not to feel that sorrow and longing when work and family commitments are missed. But there’s something else too. Even in the sorrow, there’s a sense of hope. The tears aren’t wasted; they’re offered up.

And that’s really the heart of Lent.

We don’t suffer for its own sake. We bring what we’re carrying (illness, exhaustion, the small daily crosses) and we unite it to Christ. 

As we move into the Triduum, may we learn to recognize Christ not just in moments of strength, but in moments of weakness too. And maybe, in the sorrowful beauty of the Lacrimosa, we are reminded that suffering, when offered up, is not the end of the story.

It’s the beginning of redemption.