Among the charming episodes we know of from the childhood of Therese of Lisieux, one with especially memorable appeal involves the young girl and future saint being offered the choice of something from among a boxful of doll-making paraphernalia being held by her older sister. Rather than reaching right away for whatever specific thing may have most caught her eye, the eager and strong-willed Therese paused while another sister picked out a single item. She then stated with determination “I choose all!”, taking the entire basket from her startled sibling’s hands.

Although at first glance this event might seem incompatible with Lent and its traditional ascetic practices, in a deeper way it dramatically illustrates it: for any refraining is really a temporary refusal of the partial and provisional in favor of the whole, the “all” which is contained in the risen Christ himself. We say “no” to some part of the good but grievously wounded created world so that our wills don’t become fruitlessly fixated on a perishable portion; and thus we better retain (or reclaim) openness to offering a “yes” to all. This is well illustrated by the fact that two of the three practices recommended by the Church are positive: pray and give alms. We are thus encouraged to reach for the real “all”, found in the Infinite Triune God, and imaged in our neighbor.       

Relatedly, the thrice-repeated warning Jesus speaks in the Gospel passage read for Ash Wednesday has little to do with steering clear of tantalizing treats and reducing caloric intake. Instead, we are told  “Do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do . . .Do not be like the hypocrites . . . Do not look gloomy like the hypocrites”. Hypocrisy, having to do with ‘playing a part’ and ‘wearing a mask’, involves us in a habitual settling for less that Jesus wishes us to leave definitively behind. The human heart is so much more capacious than what can be filled either by the sound of short-lived applause bestowed by others, or the fleeting sense of satisfaction granted by the conditional admiration and affirmation of our own egos. Called to move beyond the limitations of the roles we like to perform and into the unmeasurable expansiveness of the love embodied in Jesus and in his saints, we mustn’t enter into a detente with our socially acceptable venial vices, or be comfortable with even a minor role in the pantomime of idolatry constantly playing on the stage of history.     

St. Benedict’s wistful comment in his Rule that ideally monastic life should be “a continuous Lent”  speaks to this. Though it can easily come across as a curmudgeonly observation by a dour and disappointed religious leader, it is better understood in light of his words a few lines later: “look forward to holy Easter with joy and spiritual longing.” The Easter event, the rising of Jesus from the dead in imperishable glory, is inaugurative of the Eschaton and the revelation of the “all” for which our hearts long at their deepest level. So may the grace to pause in preference to what is truly total be ours in this penitential season and may the reach of our desire grow ever towards the One who at last will be “all in all.”