Among other things, I write a weekly column for the bulletin at my parish in Queens, New York. From time to time, I’ll post it here, as well. Below is the column for this week.

I confess: I’m a sucker for “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.”

I’m deeply touched by the sad stories of people whose houses are falling apart and who are struggling – literally – to keep a roof over their heads. They have family problems, health problems, job problems. In fact, life is one big problem. Decent housing often seems the least of their worries.

I’m flabbergasted at the designers who cheerfully pitch in to create truly incredible living spaces (sometimes, albeit, a little too incredible) in a just a few days.

I’m heartened by the throng of volunteers who weekly march on crumbling houses, pull them apart, and then rebuild them, often from scratch, in just seven days – smiling and laughing the whole time. Even in the cold and the rain.

And I sit there on my sofa cheering “Move that bus!” at the end of every show, just waiting to see the mouths drop open and the tears flow, while the swooping camera moves in to reveal every family’s dream home.

(Here’s another confession: I’m even developing a weird affection for Ty Pennington – although I think he should switch to decaf, and soon. But he’s part of the show’s appeal, and his goofy, high-strung charm makes the whole thing, somehow, click. He keeps the sentiment from turning into sap. But he really needs to just chill, doesn’t he?)

I am thinking of all this right now because an “Extreme Makeover” is very much what we are about to undertake during the penitential season of Lent.

It is time for some spiritual renovation.

We will begin with the dabbing of dust on our foreheads – the penitent’s mark of Cain, ashes. We will give up something – chocolate, candy, television (maybe even “Extreme Makeover”?) We will sacrifice of ourselves and give money to the poor and work over these next several weeks to renew, replenish, rebuild. We will revisit the Stations of the Cross, and sing “Stabet Mater” and light candles and pray, somehow, for grace.

And the whole point is virtually the same as what those volunteers do every Sunday night on TV: to tear down and reconstruct and start over. We dig deep into ourselves and pull apart the things that are decaying, moldy, badly in need of new wiring or plaster. And we work, methodically, to replace what is worn out with what is new.

If we’ve wandered away, we revisit the confessional, and the sacrament of reconciliation. That is the underlying great work of these 40 days: to reconcile ourselves with God – all in preparation (and reparation) for the greatest feast of the Christian year, Easter.

So break out the hammers and the shovels. Take some time to inspect your spirit and evaluate your heart. Peel away the chipped paint and see what is underneath. And then, bit by bit, day by day, repair what is broken, and shore up what is decayed. Each of us can accomplish our own “Extreme Makeover” during Lent, and create something wonderful and new for ourselves, and for God.

Who knows? You may surprise yourself. We often rise to challenges we never imagined, in ways we never dreamed.

In the end, you won’t be moving a bus, or getting a bear hug from Ty Pennington. But your life and spirit will have received a makeover that may well be, in the best sense, extreme.

And, lest we forget: with just a little upkeep, the renovations can last a lifetime.