MSI Press Blog

  (drawing by Uliana Yanovich) What is Lent? One of the duties during Lent is to go to confession (reconciliation). Lent is one of two times in the Catholic Church when the Sacrament of Reconciliation is required. Can you guess the other? Yep, it is Christmas. I like to sit with people in the church as they take turns going to one of the priests—our Mission often brings in several priests on one evening during Lent to make it easy for people to go to confession. I notice that when they come back—maybe the priest has given them a penance of a prayer or something like that—they sometimes pray beside me. They always seem happy! That is why I think the Sacrament of Reconciliation is a good thing! Sometimes people seem nervous at first, but if anyone is willing to take advice from a cat, I say “go for it; don’t pass up any opportunity for reconciliation.” The Mission, like every Catholic church makes the opportunity for confession available at any time. Usually a few hours each week ...

  This year, something rare and quietly beautiful is happening: Ramadan and Lent fall at the same time . For Muslims and Christians alike, it creates a moment of parallel devotion—two ancient traditions, two different calendars, one shared season of reflection. They don’t usually coincide. Ramadan follows a lunar calendar , moving earlier by about 10–11 days each year. Lent follows a solar‑based liturgical calendar , anchored to Easter. So their overlap is cyclical but infrequent, like two migrating birds whose paths cross only occasionally. Yet when they do meet, the resonance is unmistakable. Shared Themes: Why These Seasons Feel Spiritually Related Even though Ramadan and Lent arise from different theologies and histories, they share a deep moral and emotional vocabulary. 1. Fasting as a Path to Compassion Both traditions use fasting not as punishment, but as a way to sharpen empathy. Ramadan: Fasting from dawn to sunset is a way of sharing, in a small embodied way,...

  I’ve stopped straightening the pictures on my walls. I used to try. Every few days I’d walk through the house, nudging frames back into alignment, restoring some sense of order. But living at the intersection of three faults means the earth has its own opinions. With nearly a small earthquake every day, the walls shift, the nails tilt, and the pictures lean again — each at its own angle, as if hung by a distracted curator. Eventually I surrendered. My walls are a gallery of slightly crooked memories, always in motion. On Sunday I noticed the same thing at the Mission. The Stations of the Cross — high up, heavy, and reverent — are also hanging at their own quiet angles. Not wildly askew, just… unsettled. A degree here, a tilt there. The kind of thing you only notice if you’ve lived long enough in a place where the ground never fully rests. No one bothers to straighten them. Why would they? The next tremor will undo the effort. The earth will have the last word. And somehow, t...

  Last year, I decided to “do something meaningful” for Lent. I gave up red meat—simple enough, I thought. A small sacrifice, a gesture of discipline, and certainly nothing dramatic. Except it was dramatic. Red meat also happens to be the most absorbable form of iron, something my 75‑year‑old body apparently relies on more than I realized. My iron levels had been excellent— very excellent—just a few weeks earlier at my annual checkup. Then Lent arrived, I dutifully avoided red meat, and by Easter I was seriously anemic. It took six months of iron pills to climb back to normal. When I told my doctor what I had done, he didn’t prescribe a new medication or order a battery of tests. He simply said, with the kind of dry understatement only a seasoned physician can deliver: “Try commonsense.” And honestly, that may be the best Lenten advice I’ve ever received. Lent isn’t supposed to break us. It isn’t a contest in self‑punishment or a test of how cleverly we can deprive oursel...