Salmon Sunday?

‘He revives my soul and guides me along right pathways for his Name's sake.’

Rose Sunday, technically the fourth Sunday of Lent, has come and gone once more. But before it’s too far behind us, may I share with you my Rose Sunday King Salmon, which, as you might notice, is rose-coloured and, in my humble opinion, greatly enhances our Lenten diet! Salmon, moreover, will continue to sustain you all the way to Eastertide, when fish will give way to lamb and other gustatory delights.

Rose Sunday Salmon
Serves four

Ingredients

4 10 oz. pieces of center cut king salmon, skin removed
3 TBSP extra virgin olive oil
4 TBSP fresh thyme (stems culled)
1 tsp. heavy cream
4 TBSP minced shallots
4 TBSP unsalted butter
¼ cup red wine vinegar
¼ cup sherry vinegar
sea salt
fresh cracked pepper

Instructions

Dredge the salmon in the olive oil. Salt and pepper each side of the salmon. Sprinkle 1 TBSP of the thyme on filets. Sauté in hot olive oil for exactly 2 minutes on each side over medium-high heat. Set aside and let cool for ten minutes.

Place salmon in a 425 degree oven for ten minutes for medium. Adjust cooking time if you desire a different temp.

Meanwhile, make the sauce: in a small sauté pan, boil vinegar, shallots and the remaining thyme over high heat for 10 minutes or until it’s reduced by 2/3 and is somewhat syrupy. Add cream. Slowly, over low heat, add in butter, stirring to slightly emulsify. Drizzle over salmon and serve.

Now, lest you think I can offer a recipe without somehow bringing in a bit of theology, I offer you the following reflection --------

Though Rose Sunday, or Laetare Sunday as it’s known in some Roman circles, contains an element of levity, it also (to me at least) highlights the hardest part of Lent; namely, what do we do when our Lenten life is wilting before our very eyes?

Here’s what I mean: Through my own experience and the day with others, I have found the fourth week in Lent to be a critical point in our Lenten excursion. Even social theorists will tell us that most people can usually try something for a couple of weeks before they revert to their old ways of thinking and living. In the Church, we call this recidivism, that is, back-sliding. And Lent IV is that day for most of us.

Let me be clear: I am not referring to the backsliding surrounding our superficial Lenten disciplines (i.e., abstaining from booze and chocolate). I’m talking about our spiritual recidivism, the kind that robs us of our true joy, which is a deeper and more meaningful relationship with our Creator. It is this relationship for which we were created to enjoy now and, more fully, in eternity!

By now many of us have downright stopped preparing for the resurrection, which overturns the whole theme of Lent. We have stood in the mirror and done exactly what the world all around us tells us to do: we have looked, once again, to ourselves for comfort, strength and sustenance. I would echo the likes of Peter Berger et al. and say this is emblematic of a culture where ‘an increasing number of individuals look upon the world and their own lives without the benefit of religious interpretations’. And now we are, once again, cold, depressed and afraid.

We are pondering all of what’s broken in our world, whether it’s in our life or in the lives of those whom we hold near and dear to our hearts. I don’t have to remind you what it is that’s really robbing you of your peace – cancer, financial ruin, jealously, anxiety, ill thoughts, a sick child, a broken marriage, a bout with that addiction that just won’t go away, or even, God forbid, despair. This Lent, therefore, is the Lent of death, spiritually and otherwise.

But this, brothers and sisters, is the death that comes before the life that is ours on Easter morn. This is the death that, to a large degree, is a necessary part of our preparations. We mustn’t despair, for this is a normal part of being a human. We simply must accept this reality of our frailty and, once again, seek the only thing that matters, a renewed and restored relationship with our Heavenly Father, which is available only through Jesus Christ.

In short, Lent IV is that day our spirits tend to sag, and our countenance falls. But it doesn’t have to be this way at all. In fact, this is hardly the life to which God has called us. If we think for one minute that what we see in the mirrors is the final answer, we are doomed to perpetual despair. However, if we look not to ourselves, but to the Lamb of God, who has taken and is taking away the sins of the world, we shall be healed. For knowing that new life comes only through the grace of Christ, is more than speculation and good advice. It is the core of the Christian worldview, and it’s ours now and in eternity.

Finally, let me leave you with a little conversation I had with a confrere here at the House. I told him what I thought about the fourth week of Lent, and he told me I must be depressed if all I saw was brokenness and recidivism. He was quick to tell me he was doing quite fine with his Lenten disciplines, and gave me basically what amounted to ten steps to a successful Lent. All I can say is – good for him, though I do think he’s refusing to accept both reality and the totality of redemption. For though you can accuse me of seeing reality for what it is, I pray that people will accuse me all the more of seeing God in the middle of it all – repairing, restoring, and guiding his children into the fullness of life.

All I’m trying to encourage is that great mystical vision of the return to paradise, which is ours in Christ Jesus:

For us he rose from death again;
for us he went on high to reign;
for us he sent his Spirit here,
to guide, to strengthen and to cheer.

To him whose boundless love has won
salvation for us through his Son,
to God the Father, glory be
both now and through eternity.

words: Latin, fifteenth century; trans. Benjamin Webb, c. 1854