The first article I ever published was about Lent. I sent it in with what I thought was a great title: “Lent, Beautiful Old Friend.” But (as usually happens!) the original title did not stick. The publisher sensibly renamed the piece “Welcome, Lent.”
I remember this every year when Lent rolls around. Because I do think of Lent as my beautiful old friend. Lent is familiar and reliable but, like any good friend, still able to inspire and spark something new in us. Lent offers us the gift of limits—a set amount of time to focus and encounter the sacred. There are some things I may not be able to sustain forever, but I can do them for 40 days!
This year, within the beautiful limits of these 40 days, I’m determined to find silence. Like yours, my life is full of noise. Most of that noise is good: voices of loved ones and friends, the sound of news and music, family activity at home, generative activity at work. But some noise is just extra. It’s filler. There’s nothing wrong with it, but we don’t need it.
When I talk to people about silence, I see longing on their faces. We want it. But it’s almost like we’re yearning for something that we don’t expect to achieve. We give up before we even start. We desire silence, but we keep choosing noise.
Lent is the perfect time to carve out time and space for this silence that we crave. There are many ways to do this. Can you commit to 15–20 minutes of silence per day? I’m doing this by making my commute to work a silent one—no radio, no podcasts, no phone calls. Sometimes I’m bored. But sometimes I’m praying for someone or thinking about something special or important. My mind is resting, and my soul feels refreshed. It’s a sacrifice of sorts, but it’s the best kind of sacrifice—the kind that comes back to you as abundance.
If committing to this kind of silence feels like too much, think about the little pools of silence that naturally punctuate your day: when you’re getting dressed, walking through parking lots, rinsing dishes. Being intentional about these 2–3 minute “pools” can be restorative. Use these mini-silences in the way that feels most natural to you. Perhaps this means offering a dedicated prayer during that time, or perhaps it just means cherishing the silence, letting it wash over you, and gently turning your heart toward the God who dwells in us with love.
As someone who loves to pray the Stations of the Cross during Lent, I’m often struck by where this prayer journey takes us: right into the tomb of Jesus. This is a place of total silence—but it isn’t dead silence. It’s living and pulsing and brimming with potential. Go right in and immerse yourself in this silence! It may not feel like it when you first arrive and gaze upon the body of Jesus, but this silence is full of life—seeping into our bones, restoring our souls, and strengthening us for what comes next.
Welcome, Lent—our beautiful old friend!
If you’d like to think a bit more about prayer and silence, you can listen to my recent conversation with Fr. Ricardo da Silva, SJ, on the “Preach” podcast from America Media by clicking here or on the YouTube link below. Blessings!