"I Can Breathe Again," Baywood

Let's just spend a few minutes with the unbelievable cuteness of this song.

I've had some less-than-gracious feelings regarding snow in the last 24 hours (and neither the snow nor my attitude is on its way out). But then I heard this for the first time in the car on the way in to work. Yeah, it just makes me think about how good it will be to be home again, where I don't have to scrape inches of snow off my car, or have unexpectedly wet feet because there's a hole in my favorite boots (sigh), but it has both the number one and two requirements of all "cute" songs (clapping and repetitive "hey," for the inexperienced among you)! Wow, what a sentence that just was. And what's funny is that it turns out that these dudes are Coloradans, and so like all the youtube comments are about being "home" in Colorado, and there's just some incredible irony here, for me.

Anyway, have a listen or four, and clap around your office (or classroom or break room or ski school) for a bit.

I lost myself to the snow, and then I found my way back home, again.

But I can only stay for a while -- hey hey hey hey.

Now that I'm own my own, again, finally I can breathe again.

But I can only stay for a while -- hey hey hey hey.

Practice, practice, practice.

It's that time of year again -- time for Lenten spiritual practices!

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the season of Lent, where we confess that we need to spend the next six weeks sitting with our sin, reorienting ourselves toward God. It's not meant to be celebratory, and it contrasts beautifully with the exuberance of the resurrection glory on Easter Sunday.

Each year, Christians around the world take on Lenten spiritual practices, and I am one among them.

Last year, I wrote letters to people I love each day, expressing just how they'd affected my faith life. Writing many of them brought me to tears, and the responses I received are some of my most treasured memories. This year, I'm writing daily letters to strangers (my Starbucks baristas, musicians, POTUS) expressing my gratitude for their contributions to my everyday life. I don't expect any responses, haha. Additionally, some intern friends and I are reading a book together, hoping to check in weekly and talk about our adventures. :)

There's a tendency to think that Lenten disciplines are supposed to suck. That they're an excuse to really get going on that New Year's Resolution diet we've already given up on. That they're supposed to make us feel awful. I can't quiiiite get behind that. I like to think about Lenten spiritual practices in particular as an opportunity to let go of something that hinders us and to take on something that enlivens us. If you drink so much coffee that it's endangering your health, then maybe it's okay to give up coffee for Lent. But if it will just make you irritable and unproductive for a week before you give up and go back to your habit, that's no good. That's not why we do this.

A few years ago, my senior year at CLU, I gave up singing in worship for Lent. I can't believe I did that. I mean, those of you who know me know that that's my jam. And that, at present, it's part of my job description. But it was a fascinating experiment. You can read the Common Ground devotion I gave about it the week after Easter, here. This endeavor ended up teaching me to appreciate just how much I love to sing in praise of the God who gives me voice.

And I think that's a bit more of the goal, here. These next six weeks are a time to reflect on the world that we live in, for better or for worse, and to consider our relationships. As a wise youth director once said, it's all about relationships. So practice your relationships. Practice gratitude, practice patience, practice  random acts of kindness, practice hope, practice silence, practice humility, practice joyful noise, practice interdependence, practice compassion. Practice, practice, practice.

The pope, mostly.

Hey, remember that time the pope resigned?

Neither do I.

That's because it was in 1415 -- or maybe 1294, depending on which questionable papal resignation you think was least questionable. And there was that one guy in the 1050s who sold the papacy.

The point is that there has never been a papal resignation in modern time. It's a literal lifetime appointment kind of a thing, where the only way you stop being the pope is in death. That's kind of amazing.

So Pope Benedict XVI has done something unbelievably unprecedented -- particularly from within an organization who has a millennia of precedents.

Did you read his statement? I thought it was beautiful. Read it here.

His commitment to the ministry to which he has been called is so deeply faithful. I mean, really, you guys, he's the Pope. Of course it is. To read his words of feeling that he cannot fulfill the important work that the ministry of Peter requires chokes me up a little. This statement tells us that he is not there to be the most powerful Catholic; he's not there to issue a bunch of decrees and be detached from his people.

It's possible that we've never had a pope resign because, in the past, having a pope become less and less publicly visible wasn't as obvious. Our insatiable desire for 24-hour information has led us to feel entitled to exactly what's happening at all times and in all places. So when a pope was dying and his camerlengo was running the office, it was fine. Now, we'd likely be up in arms that someone other than the man elected to the office could possibly be doing the things required of that office. There's a certain dignity to allowing the pope to remain the pope in his last days. That the faithfulness and even holiness associated with his position do not end when he's no longer physically able to keep up appearances.

That being said, there's also dignity in Pope Benedict XVI leaving this office at the time he feels is most appropriate and best honors the office itself. Being the pope is much more physically taxing than it once was -- the first 262 popes never boarded an airplane, and the last four popes have criss-crossed the globe. I mean, the first pope to visit The Holy Lands was Paul VI in 1964! They've come a long way. Certainly some popes commanded armies (which is a whole separate story, really) and did all sorts of physically taxing things. But they also weren't 87 years old when they did.

I think this is a fascinating time to be alive.

I could really just post that every day, frankly, but I think that this is a particularly fascinating time to be alive as a person of faith. That in one decade we are electing two leaders of the ancient Roman Catholic Church is still not seeming fully real to me. I'm not Catholic, of course, but that's where this man unintentionally transcends denominations.

When I stood in St. Peter's Basilica in March 2003,  I wept. It was Palm Sunday, and I was 15 years old, and I was in this place that had been held as holy by people for hundreds of years, upon a tradition that spans thousands. In that moment, it didn't matter that the man for whom my Church is named objected to the construction of the building in the first place, and in particular to the fundraising strategy (blah blah blah selling of indulgences). It just mattered that I stood where millions of pilgrims had stood, touched what millions of pilgrims had touched, breathed what millions of pilgrims had breathed.

That human connectedness is why we do what we do. And Pope Benedict XVI showed incredible humanness yesterday when he tendered his resignation to his cardinals. Politics and ideological differences cast aside just for this one moment, I find myself deeply affected by his departure.

Peace be with you, Holy Father.