The most numerous stat to my name is the number of times I have attended mass. 52 Sundays multiplied by 19 years equals 988. I am rapidly approaching my 20th birthday, so add a few for the past year—plus Holy Days of Obligation & all school-mandated mass in high school—I have probably attended mass around 1,000 times.
This commitment is largely attributable to the steadfast faith of my mom and the close-knit community of my home parish. Attending church was a family mandate growing up, but I enjoyed it because I got to ditch my school uniform and see my relatives.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, my family turned to a more avant-garde and unconventional means of practicing our faith—virtual mass. My family of six lined the living room couch, donning our pandemic best (PJs and a state of sheer confusion), while we watched mass via a live stream.
To spice up the ominous days, we streamed mass from a number of different archdioceses. From St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York to St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, virtual mass was my family’s new favorite blockbuster. My mom, a Boston College alumna, was elated to see BC’s Holy Week live streams during the early months of the pandemic. For my family, the most memorable was Father Tony Penna’s virtual Palm Sunday mass.
I must admit that the arsenal of homilies I remember from my many years of mass is low, but I can recall this particular one clearly.
Father Penna began by discussing his half-Irish and half-Italian heritage. Frustrated by his dominant Italian physical features, his Irish mother gifted him a traditional Claddagh ring as a reminder of his strong Irish roots. Claddagh rings symbolize friendship, loyalty, and love. The ring depicts two small hands holding onto a heart with a crown on top.
Penna wore his beloved ring every day until it broke from his finger. Instead of swiftly fixing it, he asked his jeweler to melt the ring and make it into three new miniature crosses, gifting two to dear friends and wearing the third around his own neck. When Fr. Penna goes to bed each night, the cross necklace starts on his chest, but when he wakes up, the weight of the necklace causes it to fall to his back. When he looks in the mirror each morning, he has to retrieve the necklace and place it back at the center of his body.
Over time, this has quietly become an unexpected spiritual ritual for Penna.
Resetting the cross at the center of his chest forces Penna to place Christ at the center of his actions. He starts his mornings with internal conversation and deliberation. For Penna, moving the necklace empowers him to abandon his trivial ways and act humbly. He yearns to be of service to others—to be a giver, rather than a taker—and to make enough space for the other person in the room. His message has clung to me for four years now.
During Lent, most Catholics participate in prayer, almsgiving, and fasting. Parishes hold frequent adoration, stations of the cross, and reconciliation as a way to bolster prayer life. Similarly, Catholic communities around the world run 40-day fundraisers to give alms to those in need. Arguably the most widespread lenten practice is fasting.
At BC, I have noticed a remarkable number of students who make a lenten promise even though they don’t hold substantial religious beliefs. Many embark on the 40-day journey of self-discipline and sacrifice by restraining from everyday vices—social media, cookies, Diet Coke, and elevators are all common examples of lenten fasts I have heard this year.
These mindful actions help center us. Similar to Fr. Penna’s daily practice of moving his cross necklace, lenten promises are far more meaningful than the simple action of giving something up. As Fr. Penna relayed, Lent pushes us to stop when we feel ourselves leaning into things we shouldn’t be leaning into.
We often find ourselves knowing the right action but rationalizing an easier or more comfortable alternative. These small actions help us realize what our true needs are and focus our energy and effort on potentially more fruitful experiences. If nothing else, these slight adjustments to our daily lives can give us unexpected guidance and inspiration while heightening our overall discipline.
I attend mass each week during the lenten season and gain small insights. However, Fr. Penna’s words and their profound impact will continue to resonate with me during this season of reflection. Practicing faith can often feel bland or routine, and I constantly struggle to stay spiritually rooted and mindful even though I attend church every week. However, spiritual rituals like lenten fasts often deter and intimidate those who are faithful but not routine mass go-ers.
The season of Lent and Fr Penna’s homily are reminders that meaningful acts of personal faith can be as simple as ditching diet coke or moving your necklace each morning. Let your lenten fast ground you in a simple and quiet manner.
