Pastoral Letter: A Greener Lent

Dear Sisters and Brothers –

Truth be told, I use my annual Lenten fast as much to be able to fit back into my pants as I do for any spiritual gain. Probably more. Oh, sure, I feel the pinch of not having wine when I am a guest at someone’s table or when out to dinner. And I miss a Manhattan or a Negroni when I’m gathered with my Jesuit brothers for social between Community Mass and dinner together. So, yes, my mind does draw an analogy between my small longing for something I enjoy with an existential hunger for God, or it will imagine some minor solidarity with those who experience real hunger. And, in fact, I do send the savings from those fasts to Catholic Relief Services through their Lenten Rice Bowl collection. But again, truth be told, the conversion of my heart has been minimal.

This Lent, however, I’m feeling called to something more. Actually, I’ve been feeling that for a while. It’s partially because of the slow drip-drip-drip of our parishioners who have for the past three and a half years been our Laudato Si’ Circle and have met so faithfully nearly every Sunday. Their com/passionate and patient convictions that I’ve been indistinctly aware of have been softening my heart. It’s also because of a few articles about climate change and diet that I’ve read in the past year that I cannot unknow; they have lodged in my brain and have continued to niggle. And I suspect that they want to lodge in my heart. Truth be told, I think God wants to lodge them in my heart. Which brings me to this Lent.

Fasting is the second of the three Lenten disciplines. (Prayer and almsgiving are the other two.) It’s an ancient discipline that has an honored place in the spiritual practices of most faith and religious traditions, including the three Abrahamic religions of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. There are many reasons for fasting, including to seek God’s guidance (Judges 20:26), to humble ourselves before God (1 Kings 21:27-29), to strengthen our prayer (Ezra 8:23), to minister to the needs of others (Isaiah 58:3-7), to express repentance and make a return to God (Joel 2:12-13, which we heard on Ash Wednesday), to express love for God (Luke 2:37), and for guidance and help in making important decisions (Acts 13.2). Jesus himself fasted in the desert for 40 days before he began his public ministry, in order to overcome temptation, to gain spiritual strength, and to dedicate himself to God (Matthew 4:1-11). And, in fact, Jesus expects that we will fast, as we heard on Ash Wednesday (Matthew 6:16-18).

All of these are good and even compelling reasons for people of faith to fast. I’m confident that all of us have fasted for one or more of these reasons, as well as for other not-listed reasons. For myself, the fasting I will do this Lent is for a particular reason because I’m feeling an invitation to a particular conversion, one that feels inarguably essential. Those articles I mentioned above that I cannot unknow? They seem to me to be part of a “voice” that is getting louder and more urgent in my ears and heart, a voice that seems to be asking (demanding?) something from me, a voice in the deepest parts of my soul that feels too true to ignore, a voice that if I stopped and turned to listen wholeheartedly, I think I would recognize as God’s. And, truth be told, it’s a bit uncomfortable, and it feels mighty inconvenient.

The first article, the one that pierced my armor and allowed the others to enter, was “Devouring the Rainforest,” in the Washington Post last April. In a nutshell, the authors made the cogent and forceful case that the rapid and rapidly increasing deforestation of the Amazon rainforest has a primary cause – to feed the North American appetite for beef. The other article that stuck with me posited that the seemingly insignificant action of giving up meat once or twice a week is actually efficacious. (I could not find that article, but here’s one that posits the same, from StanfordReport.) Together, with other things I’ve read and conversations I’ve had, those articles have given rise to this – God’s – voice calling me to my Lenten fast this year.

So, yes, I will be giving up cocktails and wine, and observing meatless Fridays during Lent. But I will also be fasting from beef, lamb, and pork the other six days of the week throughout Lent. (From what an article in Bloomberg indicated, I’ll be a Reducetarian.) And it’s not in order to fit back into my pants. Rather, I’m hoping to learn something. Actually, I’m hoping for some conversion of my heart. The niggling that those articles have been doing in my brain – I want that to take root in my heart. I want to feel more acutely the invitation to live my life in a way that more deeply and concretely cares for the earth and for the poor who are and will be most disproportionately affected by climate change. Well, those are my hopes, anyway. God may have something different in mind. But I am clear that this is the fast that God is asking of me this year because it has the potential to render my mind and heart open to whatever it is that God wants to give me or to do within me.

Truth be told, I’d love some company on this journey, so I’m throwing out an invitation to anyone who might want to join me these next six weeks for a “Greener Lent.” To make it easier to join me in this fast – in whatever way makes sense for you –, each week we will be providing some resources to help us consider the effects on the environment of how we live. These resources will include some suggestions for spiritual reflection, links to articles and websites for our further education and understanding, and a couple of recipes for plant-based eating.

Of course, all of this is offered in the Ignatian spirit of tantum quantum. Tantum quantum is a Latin phrase which means “in so far as” or “in as much as.” So, use the materials we will provide you each week “in so far as” they are helpful to you and your Lenten journey. If they’re not helpful, ignore them!

One more thing. The third discipline of Lent is almsgiving. Again this year, we are providing you with the Catholic Relief Services (CRS) Rice Bowls. As you know, the idea of the Rice Bowls is to collect the savings from your fasting over the course of Lent, which we then send to CRS to support their ministries. This Lent, the CRS Stories of Hope will take us to Honduras, Kenya, and the Philippines, where we’ll learn how people are overcoming the causes of hunger and adapting to climate change.

Lent is not an arbitrary forty days. Noah and his family were inside the ark for forty days and forty nights, and that experience changed them. Moses led the Israelites from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land; the journey through the desert lasted forty years, and that experience changed them. Jesus was led by the Spirit, after his baptism, into the desert where he fasted for forty days and then was tested; Jesus’ experience changed him. Our Lenten journey is forty days; it is intended to be an experience that changes us in ways that are important and life-giving. And that’s what we most deeply want, isn’t it, truth be told?

Oremus pro invicem, throughout this Lenten journey.

Fr. Greg