Ah, Lent.

That “ah” may look a bit funny — not funny ha ha, but funny out of place.

For those of you professing Christian faith, Lent is traditionally, literally, a time for personal sacrifice and faith inventory in observation of Christ’s 40 days alone in the wilderness battling Satan’s temptations.

Heavy, heady stuff.

What to Order: Fish Pudding at the Lenten Waffle Shop

So where does that “ah” come in? If I look forward to Lent, if my time in the wilderness is more about relaxation than sacrifice, more like time alone by the pool with a gin and tonic than time with the prince of darkness in the next lounge chair, am I — as my Evangelical friends have long suspected — going straight to hell?

For me, Lent is a time for reflection. The journey so far, the journey at present, and the journey to come. That’s what I feel called to do these 40 days.

Since I’m an Episcopalian, whatever I’m called to do is fine, so long as others aren’t harmed in the process, and I clean up my own mess.

The Bible is a guide, like a map, and no more literal today than any map drawn thousands of years ago. The guidelines remain, and the guide is identified. The destination is clear, but the details of the journey must be updated.

When the late, great — and certifiable — Robin Williams wrote the “Top 10 Reasons To Be An Episcopalian,” he made this No. 1: “No matter what you believe, there’s bound to be at least one other Episcopalian who agrees with you.”

There you go.

If you want to skip the rest of this column, I’ve included the rest of Robin’s list at the end. I’ve added my Nos. 11 and 12.

Warning: If you skip to the end, you’ll miss lunch. You won’t go straight to hell, but you’ll miss a bit of heaven.

I’m called to empty churches during Lent, and empty theaters. These are spaces where people come to be inspired, to be informed, to be entertained — to be transformed in some cases — to be fed in all cases.

In there all alone, except for those I call in memory, except for those I call in guidance, the whole of the space is filled, the cast defined.

And during this time, I’m called with many others to one church for lunch.

Conaway: Calvary’s Waffle Shop is how Memphis does Lent

Calvary Episcopal Church in Downtown Memphis serves lunch during Lent.

Celebrated speakers of all denominations from across the land, in some cases the ocean, fill the pews and minds in the church nave above, and celebrated recipes fill stomachs and spirits in the Waffle Shop below.

The oldest public building in Memphis is above, and a brand-new, reimagined, light-filled space is below for a Lenten tradition since 1928.

Professional preaching above from the pulpit, amateur preaching below at the tables, flavors rich and varied.

Chicken salad. And mayonnaise. Tomato aspic. And mayonnaise. Chicken salad, tomato aspic, shrimp mousse, pear and cottage cheese. And mayonnaise. Fish pudding, spaghetti, corned beef and cabbage. Seafood gumbo, spring vegetable soup and chicken noodle soup. Turnip greens. Pork belly. And cornbread.

The Lord be with you.

Waffles. Chicken hash on waffles. Sausage and waffles. Waffles and waffles.

And also with you.

Boston cream pie, Tennessee bourbon pie, chocolate bourbon cake, peanut butter pie and strawberry schaum torte.

Amen.

Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays through April 11.

Thanks be to God.

Here’s all “Top 10 Reasons To Be An Episcopalian” from Robin Williams:

1. No matter what you believe, there’s bound to be at least one other Episcopalian who agrees with you.
2. You don’t have to know how to swim to get baptized.
3. All of the pageantry — none of the guilt.
4. Free wine on Sunday.
5. Church year is color-coded.
6. Pew aerobics.
7. You don’t have to check your brains at the door.
8. Male and female God created them; male and female we ordain them.
9. You can believe in dinosaurs.
10. No snake handling.

And my No. 11: Love who you love. Be who you are. Marry each other. God bless you.

My No. 12: In Memphis, there’s homemade mayonnaise during Lent.

I’m a Memphian, and, ah, Lent.