Dear colleagues,  

I hate shoveling snow. Which is why, when we moved to Montréal and our lease included the proviso that the landlord would be in charge of snow removal, I was inordinately excited. For years we had been shoveling the snow from the many snowstorms we got in Worcester. Thus, we were looking forward to the break this winter.

Just as the snow began falling for the post-Christmas snowstorm this year, the snow removal company our landlord had contracted with declared bankruptcy and closed. Since it was in the lease that we are not responsible for snow removal, we assumed the landlord would figure it out and take care of it. However, nothing happened. The snow never got removed. Instead, it melted and froze into a several-inch sheet of ice in our driveway. While we eventually got the snow removal situation sorted out, we have been left with a problematic driveway for the rest of the winter—which is particularly bad given that one of us is always carrying a baby to or from the car!

As the sun gets higher and the temperature rises, the ice has begun to melt. A couple of weeks ago, I got back from a run and realized I could start shoveling the slush and ice. It was cathartic. I got under the ice, pried it up, and tossed great sheets of it into the yard. I went across the driveway doing this and got excited about the possibility: a clear driveway! No ice! SPRING IS ON THE WAY! Only I hit the next layer of ice and the shovel stopped. No amount of force could get that ice up. So, I put the shovel away. But the next day, I realized I could get more up. And so it has gone since then—every day, myself or Rick would take 10 minutes or so to chip away at the ice in the driveway.

I realized in the midst of one of these 10 minute shoveling sessions that this whole experience has been a lot like Lent. In my mind, I take on a Lenten discipline—be it a fast or doing something different—and think that the results will be quick and easy. Whatever it is that has been standing in the way of my relationship with God will be easily removed by this discipline, and my Lent will be a time of joyous spiritual connection. However, without fail Lent turns out to be more like getting the ice out of my driveway. I try to get it done quickly—to get the uncomfortable, messy, treacherous stuff out of the way quickly—but it never works. I have to go at it slowly and carefully, with the knowledge that one day it will all be gone.

As we enter more deeply into this Lenten season, as well as into the last big push of the academic year, I invite you to examine those places in your spiritual life that need slow and steady attention. The temptation to try and fix everything in one go is real, particularly when there are term papers and exams on the horizon. Yet as in ministry, so in our lives as students and teachers are we called to make time for God even in the midst of our busiest time of year. Where is God calling you to pay attention right now? How can your Lenten fast or discipline help you do so?

Faithfully yours,
Hilary

This message was written by the Director of Pastoral Studies, Hilary Bogert-Winkler, for this week’s Wingèd Ox, a weekly news digest distributed to the college community.