Lent Fasting Done Right – Soul Food, Creative Penances, Sundays as Feast Days

Welcome to Spes at Gaudium, Episode 6: Breakfast and Lent – Fasting for the Soul.

This Lent, Moses takes us beyond intermittent fasting for the body and straight into the ancient, soul-nourishing kind that draws us closer to Christ. We explore why the Church calls us to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving these 40 days; why Sundays are always solemnities—Little Easters celebrating the resurrection; and how creative personal penances can build lasting habits of holiness long after the alleluias return.

Moses opens up with real, gritty stories: the sunrise-to-sunset fast he adopted after witnessing Ramadan during his Afghanistan deployment; the daily Lauds challenge sparked by Father Scott Sperry’s birthday call (rest in peace); the Ezekiel-bread-only Lent that tested him at Disneyland; and last year’s sunrise-to-sunset silence fast—complete with family vetoes, broken sign language, pharmacy patience, and the unexpected gift of deeper listening and inner quiet.

He grounds it all in Church teaching—straight from Canon 1251 on Friday penance and Ash Wednesday and Good Friday obligations—and Scripture: Matthew 6 on treasure and heart, the bridegroom’s words in Matthew 9, the early Church breaking bread on the Lord’s Day in Acts 20:7. Lent isn’t punishment; it’s preparation. Metanoia. True conversion of heart.

The episode ends with practical, positive “additive” penances you can start today: say something genuinely good about every person you encounter, wash the dishes when it’s not your turn, let others go first in line or traffic, silently bless strangers as you pass, listen without interrupting, and more—small yeses to love that echo almsgiving and charity.

Whether you’re all-in on your Lenten promises or simply curious about this uniquely Christian season, this is your invitation to let fasting become food for your soul.

Prayer intention: For everyone observing Lent worldwide to draw nearer to God through heart, not just habit.

Subscribe, share your own Lenten story or penance @SanchezMoses, and keep walking the pilgrimage with us. Gaudium et spes.

#Lent #Christianity #Fasting #Penance #Prayer #Metanoia

Transcript

Welcome to Spes et Gaudium, a podcast pilgrimage. I'm Moses, and I'm glad you've joined me today.

In our last episode, we explored the radical, counter-cultural theme of obedience and its role in both our spiritual and material lives. Today we continue with another counter-cultural idea: fasting.

No, not the intermittent fasting fitness trend that's great for losing weight—but the kind of fasting that's good for your soul. We're in the heart of Lent, and the Church really leans into prayer, fasting, and almsgiving on a level that's anything but ordinary. (Pun intended—I crack myself up.)

Like all our episodes, this one has three segments: the prayer intention, excerpts from the article we're discussing, and a reflection on it.

The article comes from my blog at moses-sanchez.com. Today's prayer intention is for everyone around the world observing Lent to draw closer to God.

Prayer Intention

So let us pray.

Lord, Lent is upon us. Help us fast with heart, feast with joy, and detach from the visible and invisible things that distract us and separate us from You. Remind us of Your own words in Matthew's Gospel: "For where your treasure is, there your heart will also be." Amen.

(That's from the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 6:5–21, where Jesus teaches on prayer and fasting.)

Excerpts from the Blog Post

The post begins with a story. My wife and I were at a Vegas Nights-themed fundraiser during Lent 2023. We'd given up alcohol for Lent, and a friend suggested we break the fast for one night of fun. I explained: only on Sundays and solemnities.

The piece goes on to explain our obligations during Lent. The Church lays it out clearly: we must observe penance on Fridays year-round, plus Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.

"Abstinence from meat is to be observed on all Fridays, unless a solemnity should fall on a Friday. Abstinence and fasting are to be observed on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday."

Sundays are solemnities—feast days, every one celebrating the resurrection.

Lent is for reflection, repentance, and self-denial: fasting, prayer, and almsgiving to draw closer to God. Divine Law gives us flexibility in penance, so I've added creative practices over the years.

The first serious one I remember was a sunrise-to-sunset fast in 2012. The post explains different types of creative penance—powerful, but not strict obligations.

It also covers why Sundays are different: they're the Lord's Day, mini-Easters. Early Christians gathered for the Eucharist on the first day of the week (Acts 20:7: "On the first day of the week we came together to break bread"), marking the New Covenant and victory over death.

Jesus spoke of times to fast and times to feast: "How can the guests of the bridegroom mourn while he is with them? The time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; then they will fast." (Matthew 9:15)

Sunday is tied to the resurrection—called the Lord's Day in Scripture (Revelation 1:10: "I was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day"). Once I grasped that Sundays are solemnities, not penance days, I started breaking my fast. It honors the spirit of Lent without overriding the weekly joy of the resurrection.

Reflection

This post reminds me why I've grown to love Lent: it's preparation, not punishment. My penances—like no alcohol or daily prayer—have built habits that stuck.

Lent begins on Ash Wednesday and culminates through the Triduum, a structured 40-day period (Sundays not counted) of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving leading to Easter. It's rooted in Jesus' own 40 days in the wilderness and observed across Christianity:

• Catholics: Most familiar—Ash Wednesday start, emphasis on prayer, limited food on key days, generous giving.
• Eastern Orthodox: Great Lent (or Great Fast), 40 days plus Holy Week to their Easter.
• Protestants (especially liturgical ones—Anglicans, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Methodists, some Presbyterians, certain Baptists/non-denominational): Many practice 40-day self-denial before Easter, though not all formally.

The classic three pillars—prayer (to grow closer to God), fasting (for self-discipline and detachment), almsgiving (to help the needy)—shine brightest in Catholic and Orthodox traditions but echo elsewhere.

No major non-Christian faith has an exact match: a 40-day season with those precise three elements tied to Easter prep. That package is uniquely Christian.

That said, parallels exist: Islam's Ramadan, Judaism's Yom Kippur and Fast of Esther, some Hindu/Buddhist longer fasts for purification, meditation, and ethics—though without the exact timeframe or trio.

Bottom line: Lent is solidly Christian—Catholic, Orthodox, and many Protestant flavors.

My Personal Fasting Journey

I first took Lent seriously after returning from Afghanistan deployment in early 2012. I'd been immersed in Ramadan—watching Muslims fast sunrise to sunset gave me a deep appreciation for disconnecting from earthly desires.

Lent was starting, so I committed to sunrise-to-sunset food fasting like Ramadan. My wife (nearly 10 years together then) was shocked. She asked our pastor, Father Horman: "My husband wants to fast sunrise to sunset for Lent—is this a Catholic thing?" He looked at me and said, "That's a great idea."

That sparked my creative fasting challenges to grow closer to God.

Fast-forward to 2021: real changes began. Instead of just giving things up, I added practices—like a daily Rosary.

In 2022, Father Scott Sperry (rest in peace) called on my birthday (February 3). No priest had ever done that. I asked for Lent ideas. He suggested the Liturgy of the Hours. Priests pray it seven times a day—I pushed back, saying seven was too much. He laughed and recommended morning prayer: Lauds (spelled L-A-U-D-S), about 15 minutes, using the iBreviary app. Challenge accepted.

I still pray Lauds every morning with my wife. Highly recommend Sing the Hours with Paul Rose on YouTube or Spotify.

In 2024, we ate only bread for Lent—Ezekiel bread as our staple. Brutal during our Disneyland weekend right after Ash Wednesday. We still eat some now—it's nutrient-rich and meant for fasting.

Last year: I gave up talking. The talker! Originally planned 24/7 silence (breaking on Sundays), but my wife vetoed for relationship health and sanity. We compromised: no talking sunrise to sunset.

It wasn't a social experiment—I was committed. Silence amplified active listening: more attention to gestures, lips, eyes, my own thoughts, inner voice. I talked to God more than expected. People treated me differently.

Outside my inner circle, the community was overwhelmingly positive. I always explained I wasn't speaking for Lent—people were gracious, helping at pharmacies, restaurants, concerts, travel centers, even Zoom sales calls via chat.

Family and close friends? Less patient: "Come on, man—what do you mean you're not talking? Say something! Is God really going to be mad?" Or "Stand in the corner and wait 12 more minutes." I used broken sign language, notebooks, pens, enlarged phone texts.

Sometimes it was a buzzkill (happy hour: "You can't talk—why come out?"). But I never asked for special treatment. It felt good to be included and seen.

I learned to notice conversation fillers and small talk, embrace awkward silence, pray silently for those present. Patience ruled; hurrying vanished; I could observe and literally hear myself think.

This Lent (2026): sober, no TV/movies, and daily adoration.

For non-Catholics: An adoration chapel (or Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament) is a quiet space near a Catholic church where the Eucharist—Jesus' real presence (Body, Blood, Soul, Divinity)—is displayed in a monstrance (Latin for "demonstration," sun-ray design to focus on it). People sit, pray, reflect anytime outside Mass. Non-Catholics are welcome to visit respectfully—many find it deeply peaceful.

My parish has Arizona's only 24/7 unlocked adoration chapel—no keys, no security. Just walk in—He's there. Parishioners sign up for hourly slots to keep it open.

I knew St. John Paul II and St. Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) loved adoration, but after the September 2025 canonizations of St. Pier Giorgio Frassati (died at 25) and St. Carlo Acutis (died at 15), I learned both spent much time there. That sealed it: daily adoration for Lent 2026.

Church Obligations During Lent

After sharing personal stories and Sunday breaks, let's remember the Church's actual requirements for laypeople. This isn't rules for rules' sake—it's the foundation so our penances bear fruit.

From the 1983 Code of Canon Law, Canon 1251:

"Abstinence from meat or from some other food, as determined by the Episcopal Conference, is to be observed on all Fridays, unless a solemnity should fall on a Friday. Abstinence and fasting are to be observed on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday."

In the Latin Rite (U.S.):

• Every Friday year-round: day of penance (traditionally no meat; bishops allow other forms like prayer/charity outside Lent).
• Ash Wednesday & Good Friday: full fast (one full meal + two smaller ones that don't equal a full meal, no meat) for ages 18–59 in good health.
• All Lent Fridays: abstinence from meat (age 14+).

Non-negotiables under Church law. Notice: no mention of Sundays, no mention of chocolate/sweets/no-talking. Sundays are solemnities—celebrations of the resurrection. Personal fasts can pause there without contradicting the rhythm.

Historically, Lent evolved from early apostolic traditions. It's metanoia (Greek for repentance/true conversion), echoing Joel 2:12–13:

"Return to me with your whole heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning. Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment."

Jesus' words remind us: there are times for fasting when the bridegroom is taken away. Beyond minimums, it's solidarity with Christ's passion through self-denial, prayer, almsgiving, charity.

Closing Thoughts

As we wrap up, friends: Lent isn't grinding through rules or proving toughness. It's preparation—preparing our hearts for Christ's resurrection victory. That 40-day journey mirrors Jesus in the wilderness, teaching detachment from distractions, leaning into prayer, giving generously (time, treasure, talent), and fasting to free us to love God and neighbor more fully.

Whether sticking to the Church's minimums (Ash Wednesday/Good Friday fasts, Friday abstinence) or going deeper with creative penances—like sunrise-to-sunset fasting, daily Lauds with your spouse, bread-only weeks, or silence—it's all about metanoia: true conversion. Rend your heart, not just garments, as Joel says.

Don't forget: Sundays are Little Easters. Break the fast, feast with joy, celebrate the Bridegroom's presence. That's not cheating—it's honoring God's rhythm.

I've shared some brutal, beautiful stories because fasting changed me. Here are positive, additive practices others have tried—pick one or two for these remaining weeks leading to Easter:

• Find something genuinely positive to say about every person you encounter.
• Clean up after others during or after dinner without being asked.
• Voluntarily wash the dishes even when it's not your turn.
• Compliment or encourage one specific person each day.
• Let others go first in traffic, checkout lines, conversations, or parking spots.
• Perform one unnoticed act of service daily.
• Silently pray a quick blessing over every person you pass.
• Give away something useful each day.
• Listen actively without interrupting.
• Park in the back of the lot and pray as you walk.
• Smile and make real eye contact with everyone.
• Write or text one thank-you or gratitude note each day.
• Take the stairs instead of the elevator or escalator.
• Host or invite someone for a simple meal or coffee.

Questions to Ponder

A few questions to reflect on:

• In a noisy, always-on world, where do you find moments of real quiet or inner peace? Could a short "fast" from something create space for that?
• What does spiritual growth—or getting closer to something bigger (whether God or otherwise)—look like for you?
• How might practices like prayerful reflection, generosity, or mindful restraint play a role?

Closing Prayer

Finally, we end with a prayer I learned from Hallow—Mother Olga's prayer, perfect for Lent.

Let us pray:

Lord, we ask that You 

Empty me, fill me, use me.
Empty me, fill me, use me.
Empty me, fill me, use me.
Amen.