Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Luke 4:1–13
For most of my life, Lent meant praying the stations of the cross, giving something up, and throwing loose change in a box for the poor. All good things, yet nothing more than outward gestures that produced little interior transformation. They were checked boxes that failed to prepare me for battle.
Did you know that on this first Sunday of Lent, you are called into battle?
“On this day, which is the real beginning of Lent, the Church invites us to the great combat, the struggle against sin which will bring us to the Easter resurrection.”[1] The great combat. Struggle against sin. Something tells me we need to do more than give up our Friday latte.
We have entered the desert, the interior fight, where we are called to resist the demands of the flesh, world, and devil. We will be challenged. We will feel uncomfortable. And that’s good. Lent is supposed to be hard. In fact, if Lent is not drastically different from the rest of the season, we are doing something wrong. But fear not. A new Lenten season is here, and the Lord Himself shows us how to fight this battle and win.
“Filled with the holy Spirit, Jesus returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days, to be tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and when they were over he was hungry” (Luke 4:1–2).
How did Jesus fight? Jesus fasted. “Not for His own needs but to serve as an example for us.”[2]
I admit that as soon as I think about fasting, I want to eat—a lot. All I can think about is how hungry I am and that if I don’t eat something, I will probably die. But last year, everything changed after receiving a text from a friend with a link to “The Great Fast,”[3] a Lenten journey into the desert with the Norbertines at St. Michael’s Abbey. “I think I want to do this,” she wrote. I clicked on the website and was all in when my eyes landed on this:
“The Norbertines invite you to take up the discipline of daily fasting, a sacred tradition that Holy Mother Church and her saints have practiced through the centuries. Through this practice, you will draw closer to Christ, strengthen your spirit, and find renewal in holiness.”[4]
I smiled wide as I pressed the “join us” button enthusiastically. After all, how hard could it be?
(insert maniacal laughter)
There were all kinds of fasts in the early Church through the fifth century. The weekly fast, the Advent fast, and the Assumption fast,[5] to name a few. But the Great Fast (or Great Lent) is the strictest fasting period of the year for all Christians.[6] This was no “I’ll give up chocolate” Lent, my friends. This was a “bread and water for forty days” kind of Lent. This was WHAT THE HECK DID WE SIGN UP FOR texts to my friend Lent. This was a suffering Lent.
And this was the greatest Lent ever.
I’m not implying I did the program perfectly. I lost the fight to a bag of tortilla chips on more than one occasion and devoured more sourdough than a human should. And that’s okay. Every fall permitted was an invitation to humility. Every suffering was a reminder of our Lord’s suffering. Each day I denied what my flesh demanded, I grew a little bit stronger. I prayed more. I relied on God often. I was drawn to spiritual things, especially the Eucharist, which never tasted so good.
The Great Fast got me digging into the tradition of fasting in biblical times.
I discovered that “the very first Commandment of God to Adam and Eve was one of fasting from the fruits of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:16–17), and their failure to fast brought sin and disorder to all of creation.”[7] Both Elijah and Moses fasted for forty days before seeing God. As we read in Sunday’s gospel, Jesus fasted and prayed for forty days before combatting the devil.
As we enter the desert to prepare for the resurrection, what better way to align our will with God than to imitate Jesus?
So friend, how will you prepare?
Will you go through the exterior motions, or will you do the harder thing and go after interior transformation?
Once again, I’ve joined the Norbertines in the Great Fast. Not because I love fasting but because I love God and need the reminder that I am weak and utterly dependent on Him. Fasting is not about going down a dress size or pretending I am some spiritual dynamo; it is about conforming myself to Christ. It’s about acknowledging the great combat and showing up prepared.
If you desire to recapture this beautiful ancient tradition, please join me. After all, all great saints run in packs, and in the words of Father Ambrose, “It will change your life.”[8]
Food for thought or journaling …
Fasting prepares us for the battle by helping us die to ourselves for the sake of another. It reminds us of our dependence on God and intensifies our prayer life. What will you fast from this holy Lenten season? How can you resist a Lent of exterior motions and embrace a Lent of interior transformation?
Holy Spirit, as You guide me into the desert, awaken me to the battle of temptation, and fill me with the strength to fast from everything that does not lead me to You. I want this Lent to be different. I am tired of going through the motions and waking up on Easter morning the way I began. Help me to prepare well so that I can feast well. Lord, let me hunger for You alone. Amen.
[1] Father Gabriel of Mary Magdalene, Divine Intimacy (Baronius Press, 2008), 278.
[2] Matthew R. Plese, The Definitive Guide to Catholic Fasting and Abstinence Second Edition (Our Lady of Victory Press, 2024), 14.
[3] Fr. Ambrose, How to Have Your Best Lent Yet, St. Michael’s Abbey (accessed March 2025), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBphCvos5So.
[4] St. Michael’s Abbey, The Great Fast (accessed March 2025), https://theabbotscircle.com/the-great-fast-join.
[5] The Definitive Guide to Catholic Fasting and Abstinence Second Edition, 18-21.
[6] Ibid., 23.
[7] Ibid., 14.
[8] What Catholics MUST Do To Prepare for Great Lent with Fr. Ambrose Criste, Voice of Reason (accessed March 2025), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YT0sA8T1AlU.