During the introductory rites of Mass this morning, Fr. Maximus Okonkwo described Lent, which began today, as “the sacred season of Lent.” Indeed, that is precisely what it is. Ash Wednesday is more than just a liturgical day; it is a deeply symbolic moment. By marking the beginning of Lent with the imposition of ashes, the Church reminds all believers, regardless of status, of human mortality and the need for repentance. In essence, Ash Wednesday serves as the threshold from indulgence to self-restraint, a reminder of the transient nature of life and the spiritual duties owed to God.
In his sermon, Fr. Maximus referred to Lent as “the holy season of Lent” and elaborated on its three pillars: fasting, prayer, and almsgiving. It is worth noting the remarkable coincidence that today also marks the beginning of Ramadan for our Muslim brothers and sisters.
Are you aware of the historical connections among the three great Abrahamic religions? Judaism gave birth to Christianity and greatly influenced it, while Islam, which came later, was shaped by both Judaism and Christianity. This is why the “Qibla” originally faced Jerusalem before being changed to Mecca – a reminder of the shared roots of the Abrahamic faiths. Similarly, both Lent and Ramadan are seasons defined by prayer, fasting, and reflection, uniting believers in spiritual discipline.
Fr. Maximus also spoke insightfully about the inner disposition required during Lent. Referencing Prophet Joel’s words about “tearing our hearts and not our garments,” he emphasized that Lent is a personal journey. It is not for show. It is not an opportunity to boast or to let others see our piety. Many can recall those who, during Lent, are quick to announce, “I am fasting!”
On sacrifice, Fr. Maximus was direct: “We must sacrifice something that will help us reconcile ourselves with God and with one another. It is a period in which we show humility before God.” He described metanoia as central to this process. What is metanoia? It is true conversion, a profound inner transformation that realigns our hearts, minds, and actions toward God. In his words, “It is only the truly converted – metanoic – who will accompany Jesus into the joy of the resurrection.”
Following the homily, the blessing and imposition of ashes took place. This placement is deliberate: in the Mass, whenever a sacrament or liturgical rite is added, it usually follows the homily, where the priest may catechize the congregation about the sacrament to ensure full understanding and participation.
Who has read “Fides et Ratio”? This encyclical by Pope St. John Paul II is a remarkable work on the compatibility of faith and reason in Christianity, guiding the faithful toward understanding ultimate truth. Many theologians, such as St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas have also explored the relationship between faith and reason, and the Church continues to employ this principle to explain doctrine, morality, and the deeper meaning of its practices.
For example, fasting is an important part of Lenten observance, but the Church balances devotion with reason and care for human well-being. Children, the elderly, the sick, pregnant or nursing women, and anyone whose health could be harmed by fasting are not required to observe it. In certain situations, pastors or bishops may allow substitutions or dispensations. These provisions ensure that the spiritual discipline of Lent is both meaningful and safe, reflecting the Church’s understanding that true devotion engages both faith and reason.
As I was returning from Mass, I noticed our brothers and sisters of the Anglican Communion leaving their Ash Wednesday service. This sight stirred reflections on ecumenism – the shared faith that unites Christians across denominational lines. It is a reminder that, despite differences in practice or emphasis, Christianity as a whole should remain respectful and thankful to the Catholic Church for preserving and transmitting the rich traditions of the faith. Even when other denominations choose to reinterpret or modify certain practices, they owe a reflection of gratitude for this custodianship.
And so, was Fr. Maximus confused? Some may have noticed that he first described Lent as “sacred” and later as “holy.” This question, however, is largely unnecessary. Both words convey nearly the same meaning; the variation is stylistic, not substantive. Even if one were to claim he was confused, he could be defended. I recall one of my teachers, Fr. Collins Okeke, a lively philosopher who inspired my love for philosophy. When someone suggested a student was confused, Fr. Okeke would say, “Confusion is not essentially a negative phenomenon. Sometimes, one may even be happy to get confused in the happiness.”
Fr. Maximus’s words, his careful explanation of Lent, the shared beginning of Lent and Ramadan, and the thoughtful application of fasting laws remind us that the spiritual life is both deeply personal and transformative. Let this season of fasting, prayer, and metanoia guide us toward humility, charity, and reconciliation – not only with God, but with one another.
