Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ,
Grace and peace to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, who walks with us through every wilderness and leads us faithfully toward resurrection life.
As we enter the season of Lent once again, we find ourselves invited into a familiar rhythm of prayer, repentance, fasting, and self-examination. For many of us, Lent is associated with giving something up, observing silence, withdrawing a little more from the noise of the world, or embracing solitude as a spiritual discipline. These practices have deep value and long tradition in the life of the Church. Yet every generation is also called to rediscover Lent afresh, to hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church in our own time, and to allow ancient practices to be infused with renewed meaning.
This year, I invite you to reflect on Lent not only as a season of subtraction, but also as a season of transformation. Lent is not merely about what we refrain from doing; it is equally about what we intentionally choose to do in response to God’s grace. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that God is less interested in empty rituals and more concerned with lives that reflect justice, mercy, and compassion. True repentance reshapes how we relate to God and to one another.
In that spirit, I would like to share a way of approaching Lent that shifts our focus from private discipline alone to public, relational, and life-giving practices. These reflections are offered not as replacements for traditional Lenten observances, but as invitations to deepen and embody them more fully in our daily lives.
First, Lent can be a season of hospitality rather than fasting alone. Fasting has long been understood as a way of disciplining our desires and creating space for God. Yet Scripture consistently reminds us that a fast pleasing to God does not end with personal restraint but flows outward into generosity and welcome. Isaiah’s prophetic words challenge us directly: is not the fast that God chooses to share bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into our house? In a world marked by displacement, migration, and deep social divisions, hospitality becomes a radical spiritual practice. Opening our tables, our homes, and our hearts to others becomes an act of worship. This hospitality need not be grand or costly. It may take the form of inviting someone who lives alone for a simple meal, offering tea and conversation to a neighbour, or making space for someone who feels unseen. When we practise hospitality during Lent, we proclaim that God’s grace is abundant and meant to be shared, not hoarded.
Second, Lent can invite us to encouragement rather than silence alone. Silence has an important place in Christian spirituality. Jesus himself withdrew to lonely places to pray, and the Psalms speak of waiting quietly before God. Yet there is also a holy calling to speak, especially when silence becomes a cover for indifference or fear. We live in a time when many people carry heavy burdens of anxiety, grief, self-doubt, and exhaustion. Words of encouragement, spoken thoughtfully and prayerfully, can become instruments of healing. The apostle Paul urges the Church to let no harmful talk come out of our mouths, but only what builds up and gives grace to those who hear. During Lent, we might choose to fast from careless, harsh, or cynical speech and instead practise intentional encouragement. A message of appreciation, a word of affirmation, or a sincere expression of gratitude can become a quiet act of love. In this way, our speech participates in God’s work of restoration.
Third, Lent can be lived as companionship rather than loneliness alone. Solitude has its place in the spiritual life, and many of us value moments of being alone with God. Yet the journey of faith is never meant to be walked in isolation. Jesus called disciples to follow him together. Even on the road to the cross, he shared his path with others. After the resurrection, he walked alongside the discouraged disciples on the road to Emmaus, listening to their confusion and opening the Scriptures to them. Lent invites us to be attentive to those who walk alone, whether because of age, illness, grief, migration, or social marginalisation. Companionship can be as simple as walking with someone, listening without judgment, or being present without trying to fix what cannot be fixed. When we choose companionship, we reflect the God who promises never to leave or forsake us. We also acknowledge our own need for others, resisting the illusion that faith is a solitary achievement.
Fourth, Lent can become a season of generosity rather than self-denial alone. Self-denial has often been understood as giving up pleasures or comforts as a way of sharing in Christ’s suffering. Yet the gospel consistently links self-giving love with generosity. Jesus speaks often about giving, not as a burden, but as a source of joy and freedom. When generosity becomes part of our Lenten practice, it shifts our attention from what we lack to what we have been entrusted with. Generosity may involve financial giving, but it also includes generosity of time, attention, skills, and compassion. In a culture shaped by scarcity and competition, generosity becomes a countercultural witness. It proclaims trust in a God whose grace is sufficient and whose abundance overflows. As the apostle Paul reminds us, God loves a cheerful giver, not because giving earns favour, but because it reflects the very character of God.
Finally, Lent invites us into justice in action rather than piety in private alone. Personal devotion is essential, yet it finds its true meaning when it leads to concrete acts of justice and mercy. The prophet Micah distils God’s desire into a simple yet demanding call: to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God. Lent provides an opportunity to examine not only our individual habits but also the systems and structures that shape our common life. This may involve learning about issues of injustice, advocating for those whose voices are silenced, or supporting initiatives that promote dignity and peace. Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew remind us that service to the hungry, the stranger, the sick, and the imprisoned is service to Christ himself. When our Lenten practices extend into public acts of compassion, they become signs of God’s kingdom breaking into the world.
Taken together, these ways of observing Lent remind us that the season is not about becoming smaller, more withdrawn, or more self-focused. Rather, it is about being reshaped into a people who love more deeply, listen more attentively, give more freely, and walk more faithfully with one another. Lent prepares us for Easter not by dimming life, but by clarifying it. It strips away what is false so that what is true may shine more brightly.
As a chaplain, I am deeply aware of the many journeys represented in our community. Some are walking through grief, others through transition, uncertainty, or quiet faithfulness that goes unnoticed. Lent does not ask us to pretend that life is simple or that suffering can be easily explained. Instead, it invites us to bring our whole selves before God and to discover that Christ meets us precisely where we are. The practices we choose during this season are not tests of spiritual endurance but pathways into grace.
I encourage you, therefore, to enter this Lenten season with gentleness toward yourself and attentiveness toward others. Ask not only what you will give up, but also what you are being called to give. Ask not only how you will pray, but also how your prayer will shape the way you live. Trust that even small acts of hospitality, encouragement, companionship, generosity, and justice can become places where God’s love is made visible.
May this Lent be for each of us a time of deepened faith, renewed hope, and embodied love. And may we walk this journey together, confident that the One who calls us is faithful and that the road through the wilderness leads, by God’s grace, to resurrection.
With prayer and every blessing,
Vinod Victor
February 01. 2026
Freiburg Anglican Church 
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