As a Catholic living in a predominantly Christian but non-Catholic area of the country, I’ve discovered that there are three or four “fun facts” (slash stereotypes, and often incorrect ones at that!) about Catholicism that tend to stand out to non-Catholics. 1) Nuns are strict. 2) Guilt is big. 3) We eat fish on Fridays. 4) You’re supposed to give up chocolate for Lent. 

It will probably come as no surprise that I cringe at all of these, maybe with the exception of number three, and while I usually try to steer clear of crowding my conversation partner with a lengthy lecture, I do try to offer an alternate perspective. 

“You’ve heard that nuns are strict? That may be true sometimes, but some of the kindest and most hilarious women I know are religious sisters.” 

“Catholic guilt does have a bit of a reputation, doesn’t it? I tend to feel guilty at what I think are appropriate times, but my overarching theology as a Catholic reminds me that God is all-loving and all-forgiving, and has called creation good. So overall, I don’t feel guilty so much as I feel loved by a God who delights in me and wants me to be the best possible version of myself.” 

“Many Catholics do give up chocolate for Lent, but we’re by now means required to do so. The three pilars of Lent are prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, and each of these practices has the potential to deepen our connection to God and our fellow human beings. For some people, this looks like giving up chocolate, but it looks entirely different for others.” 

Like most stereotypes, I think that “giving up chocolate for Lent” is one that has been come by honestly. For starters, for many of us as kids, giving up chocolate felt like the only option. We just went with the flow of what most people around us were doing, and that was saying no to candy for the forty days leading up to Easter. And even as adults, a lot of people do fast from sweets during Lent, because for most of us, it is a legitimate sacrifice. Refraining from dessert — for me at least — requires denying my cravings, reminds me of what it feels like to want for something, and nudges me towards prayer. Giving up chocolate is a solid Lenten practice because it captures all of the purposes of fasting. 

That said, so do a lot of practices! 

If giving up chocolate isn’t for you, and you’re interested in discerning a Lenten practice that moves you beyond what you always did as a kid, consider these ideas:

Pay attention to what distracts you from connection with God and neighbor

I read an article in a magazine years ago in which the editors asked for submissions answering the question, “If you had an extra twenty minutes each day, what would you do?” Readers wrote in with answers ranging from crocheting to reading to writing snail mail letters to spending time with loved ones. While I don’t disagree that all of these are valuable ways to spend time, I found myself perplexed by the wistful tone of many of the submissions. People weren’t implying that they’d add an extra twenty minutes of reading onto the hour that they already spent in front of a book, or include an additional letter on the stack of mail previously written. No; the notes suggested that these are supplemental activities that people currently didn’t have time to complete, but would introduce into their lives if only they had an extra twenty minutes. 

Forgive me for being judgmental, but my thought when reading this article was “who doesn’t have an extra twenty minutes that they aren’t currently wasting time on something or another?” I know I certainly do! Scrolling social media, pressing the snooze button, watching mindless TV, shopping online for things I have no intention of buying — I probably spend at least an hour a day on activities that distract me from the pursuits on which I actually want to be spending my time. 

Considering that Lent is a season during which we are called to connect in a deeper way with God and neighbor, it’s a great time to think about how your time is currently occupied, and which activities distract you from these higher callings. If you’re looking to give something up, this is a great way to decide that which you’ll go without for forty days. 

Notice where you’re moved with compassion 

I have a good friend with whom I can barely get through a conversation without him tearing up. This isn’t because he’s depressed or grieving, but because he is emotionally moved quite easily. He pokes fun at himself, but I think it’s a lovely mark of his sensitivity and the openness of his heart. 

My guess is that most of us don’t cry with the frequency of my friend, but if we pay attention, we might notice that there are patterns to that which brings tears to our eyes or a tug to our hearts. Maybe it’s seeing a person experiencing homelessness as you exit the highway; maybe it’s reading news articles about war and violence; maybe it’s hearing your child talk about their classmate whose parent is chronically ill. What moves you may be an invitation for your Lenten almsgiving. Notice where your heart feels drawn and find an international NGO, a faith based non-profit, a local organization, or an individual where you can give a little bit more generously throughout the season of Lent. 

Reflect on where and when you feel closest to God

There’s a concept in Celtic spirituality called “thin spaces,” which refers to the places or experiences where the barrier between the physical world and the spiritual realm feels more permeable than usual. These spaces can be specific locations — such as a spot in nature or a sanctuary — or moments in time when one feels a profound sense of connection to the divine. Thin spaces are characterized by a sense of wonder and awe, as well as a heightened awareness of the presence of God. 

Every now and then I’ll catch myself in a thin space, and I’ll relish in the peace and connection that I feel to God. But more often than not, while I move on throughout my day feeling a greater sense of union with God than I did before, I don’t necessarily try to recreate the moment. While there’s no re-creating exact moments of encounter, I do think that we can strive to create the circumstances in our lives that help us to feel closer to God. For instance, if listening to a certain Gregorian chant led to a “thin space” experience, I can certainly integrate more chanting into my life. Or, if taking walks around the local pond fills me with wonder and awe, I can make this a regular excursion for myself. 

Being in a thin space is being in a place of prayer. This Lent, notice where and what feel like thin spaces to you, and consider going out of your way to pray in these places. 

This Lent, as you consider the concepts of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, remember that there are infinite more options for meaningful practices than giving up chocolate. Discernment and reflecting on a few concepts can help you find the right one for you.