Lent is one of those seasons when the “Both/And” nature of the Catholic Church really asserts itself.
The practices and purposes of Lent are ancient, timeless, universal. It’s a season when we’re invited to step into an ancient, continuous tradition of fasting, praying, self-denial that would not be completely foreign to Catholics who lived centuries ago.
It’s also a time when we’re supposed to ask ourselves, “What am I in particular, in this specific year, at this specific time in my life, supposed to do so that I can come closer to God?”
I have some ideas. Here are my suggestions for how to spend Lent in the year 2025.
Refuse to dehumanise
Not even a little bit. Undeniably, there are evil people in the world doing evil things.
These people are our brothers and sisters in Christ, with no exceptions at all. They are not trash, not termites, not scum, not excrement, not parasites, not a waste of skin.
Dehumanisation paves the way to oppression, every time. We must not participate, even for the sake of rhetoric, or our hearts will follow the lead of our lips.
It is becoming more and more socially acceptable to refer to our opponents as less than human, because we see them behaving so abominably, and because they’re calling us even worse names. But as Christians, this should impel us to work harder to recall their humanity, not to give in. Christ did not despise us, and we’re obligated to pass that mercy on.
Refuse to enjoy being angry
There’s a lot to be angry about. But when we’re angry at another human being, we should steel ourselves against relishing that rage and delighting in our disgust.
We can follow the example of Mr Dimble in the final pages of That Hideous Strength, who has just discovered how thoroughly Mark Studdock has given himself over to evil:
“He seemed to Mark to be looking at him not with anger or contempt but with that degree of loathing which produces in those who feel it a kind of embarrassment—as if he were an obscenity which decent people are forced, for very shame, to pretend that they have not noticed.
“In this Mark was quite mistaken. In reality his presence was acting on Dimble as a summons to rigid self-control. Dimble was simply trying very hard not to hate, not to despise, above all not to enjoy hating and despising, and he had no idea of the fixed severity which this effort gave to his face.”
Give up, or at least cast a critical eye on, doing things that will score us points with our crowd
That’s one of the worst and most perilous reasons to do or believe something: For applause. Our foundational ideas can so easily shift along with the crowd without us even realising it, and the crowd tends to demand more and more debasement.
Times like these are a wonderful opportunity to halt, assess what our core values are, and ask ourselves: Why am I doing this? Why am I saying this? Why am I speaking to or about this person this way? Just check in and see if anything has shifted in your heart since last year, or since a few years ago; and, if it has, consider whether our new personal standards make us a better witness to the Gospel, or worse.
Swear off hate-socialising
If there is someone on social media you haven’t thought about for a long time, and their name pops into your mind, and you think, “Let’s see what stupid thing THIS creep is up to” . . . don’t.
Don’t go there. Maybe you forgot about them because God had mercy on you. Don’t undo his work!
When we see something bad, do something good. Translate frustration into useful action. If we can take some pertinent, related measures, that’s great—for instance, if I hear about someone suffering injustice, I can make a donation to a food bank. But it’s also okay if there’s no obvious connection, and we’re just doing what we can to counter evil by shoring up what is good.
Evil has a tendency to snowball, growing as it gathers speed. But we can make a conscious effort to interrupt it, and take another course. It could be something as small as deciding to modulate our tone and speak especially warmly to the next person we encounter.
Just remember that we can’t control the evil that surrounds us, but we can always control what we, ourselves, do next.
Make quiet or even silence an inalienable part of every single day
This is the noisiest year I can ever remember, in so many ways. Just getting a simple update of current events feels like opening the front door and getting swept away by a riot.
So it’s a good time to set up a little shelter in your day—a car ride with no radio; a few hours in the evening with no screen; 10 minutes of wake-up in the morning before you fetch your phone—where the world cannot intrude, and the Holy Spirit can get a word in edgewise.
Read the story of a saint who lived through similarly trying times
Seek out authentic biographies or autobiographies: not sanitised fairy tales where no one is ever tempted and everyone’s path is clear, but actual accounts of the specific obstacles, troubles, and confusions holy men and women faced as they tried to live the Gospel in terrible times.
He Leadeth Me or The Hiding Place would be good choices. It’s incredibly helpful to remember that, in trying times, we don’t have to make this up as we go along. There is a cloud of witnesses out there who have followed the Lord through much thornier paths than we’re on right now. There is a way, and now is the time to actively seek it, so we know how to act.
Pray daily for our enemies
Committing to an instant quick prayer is the best way to stick with this resolve: Every time we find ourselves thinking ugly thoughts about someone, say, “God, be good to So-and-so,” and then move along.
Or offer Mass for them by name. Or devote a whole rosary to them. It’s a super crazy, unnatural thing to do. It’s very hard. But Jesus made it pretty clear that it’s mandatory, so let’s do this.