Published April 16, 2017. Happy Easter!

"Freelance Catholic"

Believers and unbelievers are not two clearly separate groups like two soccer teams. The playing field for the contest between belief and unbelief is within each individual human heart and human mind. ~ Father Tomás Halík

One day, in late winter, Hunk found Lance in the Garrison lounge unpacking a cardboard box that seemed to be filled with junk food and party favors. Lance grinned at him and said, "Check it out! My family sent me a care package." Lance tossed a candy bar wrapped in string of gold beads to Hunk. "Happy Mardi Gras!"

"Oh! Wow, thanks." Hunk eagerly detached the beads and unwrapped the candy bar. "D'you have family from New Orleans?"

"No."

As he munched on the chocolate, Hunk tried to remember what Lance had said about his family and where he was from. "They celebrate Mardi Gras in Cuba?"

Lance paused in his inventory to look at him. "People celebrate it around the world."

"Really? I thought it was a big party in New Orleans. Like a heritage festival."

"Well, yeah, they love to celebrate it there; but it's actually a religious holiday—or, well, it exists because of a religious holiday."

Hunk finished licking his fingers and held up a hand. "Wait, let me guess—it's like Saint Patricks's Day? Where people pretend to be a certain heritage so they can celebrate it?"

"No. Good guess, though. It's the last day before Lent, so it's the last chance to have sweets or do whatever you plan to give up."

Hunk blinked, his expression turning bewildered. "Wait, I'm sorry, can you say that again?"

"Lent is a season in the church calendar. Not all Christian denominations celebrate it, but Catholics do. It leads up to Easter—you know what that is, right?"

"Sure. I've done egg hunts and stuff like that with neighbors."

"Okay, so, during Lent, we're supposed to fast for forty days, like Jesus did in the desert. I don't mean go completely without food," Lance added quickly, seeing Hunk's horrified reaction. "You're supposed to make some kind of personal sacrifice. There are only two days when you're supposed to not eat a lot, one at the beginning—that's tomorrow, Ash Wednesday—and another near the end, Good Friday. Also no meat on those days or on Fridays."

"Why?"

"I don't know … because it's a luxury I guess. People used to give up all meat and dairy products for the whole season. Now people make up their own sacrifices. Usually they give up things like junk food or bad habits. Or, instead of giving up something, you can do something extra, like pray more often or do good deeds. It's like New Year's resolutions."

Hunk scratched his head in amazement. "How do you maintain that kind of self-discipline?"

Lance looked both smug and sly. "Well, there's a loophole. Not everybody knows about it. The forty days don't count the Sundays. That's the day we go to Mass, which is supposed to be a kind of feast, since it's basically a celebration of the Resurrection, like a mini-Easter. So on Sunday it's okay to break the fast."

"Oohhhh. So you just hold out during the week and then fill up on Sundays?"

"Pretty much."

"That makes a lot more sense," Hunk said, understanding now. "Well, now that I know about this, I'll help you find delicious, healthy, vegetarian dishes, and your weekly fill of junk food."

Lance's countenance lit up, as pleased as when he had seen the package's contents. "Really? Thanks man!" For that, he let Hunk have his pick from the box.