For the first time in twenty years, Lent slipped past me. I didn’t give anything up. I didn’t attend Mass regularly. And yet, a week before Easter, I found myself longing for it—the reflection, the discipline, the stillness. I had the weird feeling of not being able to turn the dial back and having but a week to focus on what it is all about. But what is it that Lent is about for me?
Spirituality was uncool
As I grew up, it was not that cool to be religious. I grew up in a catholic school, but somehow I survived the not-unusual reaction of staying as far from it as possible by the time it was over. In high school and through University, going to Mass became a valued habit rather than something I had to do. I was mostly the odd one out, especially as I drove back home at 7 am after clubbing to attend the noon Mass with my Mum. Yes, it was something I did with my Mum, but I was also really into going.
At that point, the priest celebrating the Mass was different from any other one I had heard before. He brought the readings into the modern world, and suddenly it all made sense. He was controversial and paved the way for many others to follow. For me, Frei Bento changed my vision of all of it. He gave it a meaning and a place. I was moved by faith and spirituality, regardless of how it looked on the outside. I did not care if it was cool or not; it mattered to me, and it was not until another 20 years that I truly understood why.
A pillar of happiness – spirituality
In Arthur Brooks and Oprah Winfrey’s book on “Building the Life You Want”, they identify faith and spirituality as one of the four pillars of happiness. Spirituality does not come in a religious sense, and it can mean different things to different people, depending on whether you have a religion, faith or belief. More than anything, spirituality is a commitment to something bigger than ourselves.
“Happiness is not about self-satisfaction. It is about self-transcendence.”
Whether through religion, meditation, philosophy, or service, spirituality is about connecting with something larger—God, nature, humanity, or a moral framework. It’s this perspective that helps us endure suffering and find deeper purpose. I believe faith helped me stay connected with this bigger meaning. It gave me perspective at a time when I needed it most. And it gave me a time and place to go inside myself, even if just for a few minutes, every week. My own early days meditation.
A (questionable) structure
A religion provides more than a chance to reflect. It also provides a structure that, for many people, is one of the few structures they have in their lives. It creates a community with a moral compass, rituals, and frameworks. No doubt, we can question different religions for the type of structures or demands they have on their followers (and flaws). And no doubt we are quicker to judge the ones we know less about or where we don’t belong. But it is unquestionable the foundation that it can provide for its people and for society in general. With all its perils and imperfections, it is a “known-known“, a variable we can count on, even when we don’t agree or pursue it.
It is interesting that as I scroll through my Instagram this week (yes, I do that too), I am seeing references to Pope Francis left, right and centre. From religious and non-religious people. From Catholics and non-Catholics. From people in the West or in the East. The Pope has always represented a certain structure. And I guess this one provided not only structure but also brought a lot of reality to Catholics (and not) around the world. In a world in need of grounding, his presence felt like an anchor we very much needed.
Back to Lent
On Palm Sunday, I attended my first mass in quite some weeks. And that is when it hit me that I had wasted a good opportunity for renewal. You see, for Lent, I give myself an opportunity to transition and transform. Whilst I could do this at any time of the year, it is always better to do it following some meaningful calendar. We were skiing when Lent started, my back was killing me (as it does after a few days skiing) and then Baby S had a ski accident that looked bad (luckily, a few days later we concluded it was not as bad). This set the stage for a good set of excuses for me. I chose not to fast on anything for the first time in a long time. I usually choose a luxury that gives me real pleasure, but that in reality is not that necessary, like wine, Coke, and my beloved French Fries. And no meat on Fridays, which is a killer for my Friday steak date nights.
I know, first world problems. But precisely in our first world life, I find it important to deprive ourselves of some of it and make space for some change. Does giving up on French Fries make any real difference in my life or the world? It may seem like not very much at first glance. But each time I am stopping myself from ordering them or from stealing some from the kids’ plates, I am automatically reminded of why I am doing it. And for 40 days, this gives me a chance to reprogram and focus on the matter at hand. Allow myself some cleansing and some space, and embrace Easter as a real opportunity to relive. Like another chance.
Never too late
So was I too late for Lent? The saying goes that it is never too late. Did I make the best use of it? Not fully. Lent, with its calls to fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, is an ideal reflection time, an ideal opportunity to detach from the mundane. In other times, I might have gotten stuck on how I missed it, on how I should have acted differently, on how I failed. This year, I was happy to have realised how important this time was for me. Maybe that was all there was this year in the cards for me. To stop a year to realise how I don’t want to miss it again.
In 2004, the first year I ever really fasted, I was living in Mozambique, and I was living with the nuns. That made Lent even more special and meaningful. And that is probably why it stuck for so long without questioning it. We all need to question our beliefs sometimes. That is healthy and essential in today’s day and age. We are too quick to get stuck on our habits and frameworks to even wonder what they mean.
I now know how Lent gives me the opportunity to go inwards, to reduce the extras and to make way for new beams of light to come into my life.
You don’t need religion to be spiritual. According to Arthur Brooks and Oprah Winfrey, what matters is intentional space for stillness, reflection and connection to a greater purpose other than oneself. I happen to be religious, and I happen to have faith. But more than anything, I have a deep belief in the greater purpose of the world (even in dark times).
I empathise! Having a deep belief in the greatest purpose and religious FAITH brings inner PEACE
Ghandi would say : be the change you wish to see in the world 🌍 and each God conscious soul does fulfil the great commission purpose
as God has a plan and a purpose for all of us ! X