Do you realize Lent starts THIS Wednesday?!
It feels like we just packed away the Christmas tree.
The lights barely came down. The last ornament only just found its way back into the box. And suddenly the Church looks up and says, very calmly, “Ash Wednesday.”
Lent is on the earlier side this year. Close enough to Christmas that many people haven’t even registered it yet. It sneaks up on us like a quiet tap on the shoulder… and then BOOM… a thumb full of ashes headed straight for your forehead.
Already?
Yes. Already.
And right about now, the annual question begins circling:
“What am I giving up?”
Everyone knows about giving up chocolate. But let’s be honest for a moment. How much chocolate were you actually eating?
If you have one square of dark chocolate after dinner twice a week, abstaining from it is not exactly forty days in the desert.
Some people give up alcohol. And that can be a deeply meaningful sacrifice. It’s often wise. It’s often clarifying.
But then we start hearing things like:
“Well… except for St. Patrick’s Day.”
Well, okay. One small carve-out isn’t the end of the world.
But I suspect the real St. Patrick might thump you over the head with his crozier.
Lent isn’t about technical compliance. It’s about sincerity. If we’re already negotiating with ourselves before Ash Wednesday arrives, it may be worth asking what we’re protecting.
Lastly, there is the modern variation of Lent:
“I’m not giving anything up. I’m going to do something instead.”
Now, doing something good during Lent is beautiful. Adding prayer. Serving the poor. Reading Scripture. All of that matters.
But if we never practice detachment, we miss something essential.
The ancient Church did not embrace fasting because God enjoys watching us suffer. The desert fathers did not strip down their lives because they hated joy. The catechumens preparing for baptism did not fast to impress anyone.
They fasted because desire needs reordering.
Jesus Himself fasted in the wilderness. Not because bread is evil. Not because hunger is holy. But because temptation always reveals what has power over us.
When Christ says, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21), He is not speaking poetically. He is diagnosing us.
What has your heart?
That is where your Lenten sacrifice lives.
Not in what sounds dramatic.
Not in what looks impressive.
Not in what everyone else is doing.
But in what quietly has leverage over your interior life.
Maybe it is alcohol.
Maybe it is sugar.
Maybe it is news.
Maybe it is scrolling.
Maybe it is the need to win every argument.
Maybe it is the comfort of constant distraction.
The question is not: What would look spiritual?
The question is: What would make me freer?
The early Christians understood something we forget in a digital age.
We are always being formed by what we consume.
If the news cycle dictates your emotional temperature, that might be the fast.
If social media stirs anger you cannot shake, that might be the fast.
If nightly wine has become less about celebration and more about anesthesia, that might be the fast.
If constant noise prevents you from hearing God at all, silence might be the fast.
Lent is not punishment. It is recalibration.
It is forty days to practice saying, “This does not own me.”
So how do you choose wisely?
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Choose something that actually has power over you. If giving it up costs nothing, it will change nothing.
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Make it measurable. Vague sacrifices fade by week two.
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Avoid loopholes. If you are already planning exceptions, reconsider the choice.
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Pair subtraction with addition. If you fast from news, fill that space with Scripture. If you fast from social media, use that time for prayer.
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Keep it between you and God. Lent is not performance art.
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Let it hurt just enough to wake you up, but not so much that it becomes theatrical.
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Remember that the goal is not suffering. The goal is freedom.
This Lent comes quickly. That may be grace.
We do not need months of buildup to begin again. We just need willingness.
The ancient Church calls us, once more, into the desert.
Not to deprive us.
But to free us.
If you have not yet received our Lenten Guide, it outlines the full journey ahead, including the theology of the season and the digital worship opportunities we will share together. It is a gift for walking these forty days intentionally. (There’s no cost and no additional sign-ups or anything, don’t worry ~Fr. Rich)
So, now is the time to choose your fast.
Not impulsively.
Not dramatically.
But honestly.
What owns you?
That is where Christ is waiting.
May God Bless You, Now and Always.
Let Us Pray
Lord Jesus Christ,
You who fasted in the wilderness and faced temptation without fear,
look gently upon us as we prepare to enter Lent once more.
We confess that our desires are often scattered.
Our attention divided.
Our hearts tethered to comforts we barely notice.
Give us clarity to see what holds power over us.
Give us courage to loosen our grip.
Give us humility to begin again without performance or pride.
Teach us that fasting is not about proving strength,
but about discovering freedom.
Strip away what distracts us.
Quiet what agitates us.
Reorder what has become disordered.
May these forty days make us lighter,
steadier,
and more attentive to Your voice.
Lead us into the desert,
and bring us home renewed.
Amen.
Before someone shows up with that thumb full of ashes…
What are you fasting from this year?
Chocolate? News? Social media?
Something more interior?
Drop it in the comments. Sometimes naming it makes it real.