The Eighth Night.

Tonight, I informed Nick that our dinners would be changing for the next few weeks. Since we are entering Lent, I will not be serving meat. It’s a small penance in preparation for Easter.

He accepted, though somewhat puzzled. As a joke, he asked if I minded if he brought meat from home. In the same spirit, I told him it was fine, but he would have to eat it outside, in the garden, before coming inside.

He found the announcement a bit strange, but he knows that my life is guided by my faith. His acceptance didn’t mean he fully understood, and later, when I wasn’t expecting it, he asked, “Why doesn’t God want you to eat meat during Lent?”

I replied, “God doesn’t require it from me, but I believe abstaining from meat during Lent, and at other times of the year, is good for me. Eating meat is licit, good, and sometimes even necessary, but by choosing to give up something that is licit and good—saying to God, ‘I can do this, and it’s not a sin, and it brings me pleasure, but I choose not to,’—I show Him that I love Him. I also can do it as penance for my sins and for others’ sins but this is another point.”

“But why would God be pleased with you doing something He doesn’t need?” he asked.

I explained, “God is Love and Justice. He doesn’t need me, but He created me out of love. He knows I cannot be truly happy without Him. He made me to belong to Him, and the more I live in this relationship, the more I find love and joy. I can’t affect God in any way, but He deeply affects me. So, it is a matter of justice to give God what is rightfully His. Love and justice are intertwined; love brings forth justice, and justice brings forth love.”

“Justice?” he inquired.

“Justice is giving someone what they deserve. God has given me everything, so He deserves everything in return.”

“But where is you in it?”

I responded, “You’ve probably heard the saying, ‘Whoever wants to save his life will lose it.’”

“Yes,” he replied.

“It was said by Jesus,” I continued, “and it means that to live in God, we must die to ourselves, because evil resides in us, while God is pure Goodness. There is no darkness in Him, so I must purify myself, becoming goodness in order to be with Him.”

“But evil is ingrained in you,” he countered.

“That’s why,” I said, “I must spiritually die to myself, allowing God to live within me. Since my conversion, I’ve been ‘killing’ my old self to make room for God’s presence. If you see me consistently doing good, it’s not because of me—give thanks to God. Now, returning to your initial question: What does it mean to abstain from something if God isn’t affected by my actions? It’s a gesture of love. God loves me, and I respond with love – this is justice. But true love isn’t just about words and affection. Anyone can offer kind words, but to love someone to the point of suffering for them—that’s what true love is. I can’t give anything to God because He needs nothing from me, but I offer Him these voluntary sacrifices as a sign of my love. Of course, there are many other ways I can show my love for Him, such as through acts of mercy, both material and spiritual.”

Nick shook his head, “That sounds crazy to me. You live in the here and now, and nothing is more important than being yourself.”

“I agree,” I said. “In the here and now, I strive to live in God, because the more I live in Him, the more I become truly myself. Of course, if I could choose to be Batman, I would. But that’s not possible.”