We sometimes think of Lent as a time for intense spiritual athleticism, for bold ascetic endeavors in self-mortification, for proving to ourselves and God just how holy and pious we are. At least, I know that I do. This way of thinking about Lent can lead us to thinking that our acts of penitence really do something good for God, something that deserves or merits his favor, perhaps even something necessary for enjoying divine pleasure and goodwill. For those of us who like to think that we earn our place in the world and in the lives of our loved ones by dutiful hard work, this thought can be almost irresistible. And if taken to heart, it can result in a Lent of rapid alterations between self-satisfaction when we think we’re practicing piety well and utter despair when we slip up. On the other hand, for those who come to Lent already exhausted and overwhelmed by the chaos of the world or their own lives, there’s a temptation to cede Lent to those advanced in piety, to put it off for another year when things are feeling more settled and secure. Lent, according to this understanding, isn’t for the weak and weary in spirit, and can happily be skipped in the name of self-care.

A well-worn daily prayer can remind us of the real meaning of Lent.