March Madness.

It is March and the wind just blew me into the church too early for any reasonable human being and about thirty minutes early for mass. Where was the sun this morning and yet the birds seem to be enjoying the weather. It might be because the temperature is warmer than it usually is and being that they have to be outside most of the time this would be an improvement. What number winter is this in one winter? It was warmer in December. Poor Saint Joseph. March on march-march on.

30 minutes early to mass in a church that is cold. I should have brought a portable heater. It used to be that they kept the temperature too high and then the price of fuel went up. If only they had invested in alternative energy. I remember when oil was negative dollars per gallon. That would have been the time to buy.

Ten people show up and they aren’t even the normal ten that usually do. It could be that people have given up on church for Lent. I questioned if after Forty Days it had any meaningful longevity. You gave up 12 brownies for Lent. “Excellent.” “When did you stop beating your husband?”

Think about it -people could be at home eating their crispy almond crunch and hot beverage with a swig and watching on tv in order to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day.

The eight o’clock mass had an organ and a “cantor.” He sang a few songs that I couldn’t make out and no one joined in and then the tune about Love and Mercy and the first reading was about how God was not satisfied with the Jews once again.

Often, I stated that God, “Wants our mercy and not our sacrifice. So why sacrifice? And isn’t being merciful sometimes a sacrifice and vice-versa.” I gave up on giving things up for Lent it seems our God is never satisfied. I was told that was a good thing years ago because I wasn’t either. And we are told that we should never be satisfied as well. The church uses a Latin term for alleged constant and never-ending change. Mission Accomplished. Love and Mercy and I will rescue in your despair. How despaired do I have to be in order to be rescued by the God that never disappoints and yet seems to be doing so now? Not feeling the love.

When my landlord used to come to collect rent and was whistling while walking up the broken path-I wanted to cringe-I was losing money going to work and oftentimes would just sign the whole paycheck over to him.

Often, I would answer the door with a belt around my neck to see if he would say anything. At other times I would have acupuncture needles in my face. It was meant to be a pattern interrupt. God was merciful he let me live.

I don’t know if I can stand all this March Madness during Lent.