Friday in the Second Week of Lent

Earlier this week a friend of mine (also a priest; experiencing his second full Wisconsin winter) wrote an e-mail in which he cried "UNCLE" to the weather...in desperate hope that his surrender would bring about a cessation to the snow, ice and cold. In response, I sent him an e-mail that represented a few days' worth of my experience last Sunday and Monday, with just a dash of poetic license added for good measure.

This is my fourth Wisconsin Winter...and while I'm not sure I'm getting used to the Frozen Tundra, I will note that I spent a few minutes chipping ice in the parking lot earlier today...and with the sun shining and temperatures in the mid-20's, I needed no coat or gloves...and indeed almost felt warm.

Below, please find my response to my friend. I hope it will bring an appropriately restrained Lenten smile to your face:


I feel your pain, verily, I embody your pain.

This past Sunday, I set my face like a flint against the wintry onslaught. I would persevere in the sleet, the ice, the slush. I would not be thwarted by the dire predictions of a snow- covered Armegeddon. I would prevail. Victory would be won. By God, we would have church!

So I slogged on through the slush. I was fueled by stubbornness that would not succumb to winter. And as I strode self-assuredly through the parking lot, I slipped...and great was the fall. I picked myself off the pavement some five or six feet south of the original point of impact (thanks to the slope of the pavement, my rate of speed and the wide expanse of black ice). But the show went on. Eucharist was served. By God, we had church!

My stride home was less assured -- a bit more tentative...much more humble.

Later in the day as I nursed my pride with an appropriate barley beverage and my posterior with a heating pad, I fantasized briefly about the azaleas that I know are blooming in North Florida...I laughed at the thought that a 55 degree day would now seem almost subtropical...I considered for some time all that I would do with the 2 whole days of summer that will occur here sometime in July. During the night I'm sure I had a dream about tulips and dogwood trees.

Monday afternoon I spent a couple of fun-filled hours in sub-zero windchills chipping away at the ice that has coagulated on the parish sidewalks...because in a cost-saving measure several years ago the vestry decided to forego hiring a service to clear the sidewalks, opting instead for "doing it with volunteers". The longer I chipped; the colder I became.

Soon, I entered some sort of hypothermic altered state. I fantasized about a coral-tinged sunset over the Gulf of Mexico, I imagined the feeling of the warm water lapping at my bare feet, I could almost taste the succulent boiled shrimp being chased down my throat by a chilled, rum-laced drink (complete with the little umbrella). I began to hear strains of Jimmy Buffett.

I had nearly transcended this veil of frozen tears. I was almost free of the bonds of the Wisconsin winter. Perhaps there really was something about "mind over matter". I was brought back to reality, though, when the city snow plow lumbered by and baptized me with slush the plow kicked up off the street.

The good news is that I was only wet for a brief time -- the slush refroze on contact. Oh joy.

Thank God it's Lent.


I'm enjoying the sunshine today. Another snowstorm is predicted for Monday, February 25. Yippee.