THE SPIRITUAL WEIGHT OF LENT IN A WORLD THAT OFTEN LOOKS AWAY

Lent is one of the most ancient and solemn seasons in the Christian tradition. For nearly two thousand years, believers have entered these forty days with humility, repentance, and a desire for spiritual renewal. Beginning on Ash Wednesday, Lent calls Christians to confront their own mortality, acknowledge their need for grace, and prepare their hearts for the mystery of Easter.

The ashes placed on the forehead — accompanied by the words “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” — are not meant to shame, but to awaken. They remind believers of the fragility of life and the enduring hope found in Christ. Through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, Lent invites Christians to return to God with sincerity, humility, and purpose.

Across denominations — Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Lutheran, Methodist, and many others — Lent remains a sacred time of spiritual discipline. It is a season that asks believers to slow down, look inward, and rediscover the depth of God’s love.

Yet in today’s digital world, this sacred season often passes with little acknowledgment. While other global traditions receive visible recognition on major platforms, Lent — the doorway to the holiest days of the Christian year — is frequently met with silence. For many believers, this silence is not merely an oversight. It feels like a dismissal of a faith that has shaped civilizations, cultures, and communities for centuries.

The Digital Disconnect in not recognizing Lent

In recent years, major technology platforms have made a visible effort to highlight a wide range of global cultural and religious observances. Ramadan, Diwali, Lunar New Year, and Pride Month often receive prominent placement in search bars, home screens, and curated content. These efforts are usually intended to promote inclusivity and cultural awareness.

Yet this same visibility is rarely extended to Christian observances — even the most significant ones. On Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent and one of the most sacred days in the Christian calendar, many believers opened their devices to find no acknowledgment of the day at all. Instead, some were met with tips about how to talk to people about Ramadan, a holiday that had not yet begun.

This contrast is not inherently malicious, but it is deeply disorienting. When a platform recognizes other traditions while overlooking Christianity — the largest faith tradition in the United States and one of the oldest in the world — it creates a sense of imbalance. For Christians, especially those who take Lent seriously, the silence feels personal. It feels like a dismissal of a faith that has shaped their lives, their communities, and their spiritual identity.

And Christians are not the only ones who feel this absence. Jewish holy days, too, often pass without acknowledgment on the same platforms that highlight other global observances. For communities whose traditions are ancient, sacred, and deeply woven into the fabric of Western history, this silence can feel like erasure.

Recognition is not about elevating one tradition over another. It is about acknowledging the spiritual reality of millions of people. When Christian and Jewish holy days pass without notice, while other observances receive prominent attention, it reinforces a painful message: that some traditions are celebrated, while others are quietly set aside.

THE GLOBAL SUFFERING OF CHRISTIANS: A SILENCE THAT CUTS DEEPER

As Christians in places like Louisiana, Italy, Brazil, and the Philippines gather for Ash Wednesday services, millions of believers in other parts of the world cannot practice their faith openly. In regions of Africa, the Middle East, and Asia, Christians face severe persecution at the hands of violent extremist groups who target them for their beliefs.

These extremists do not represent entire religions or communities. They are radical Islamic factions whose ideology is rejected by the vast majority of people — including Muslims, who themselves are often victims of the same violence.

But the suffering of Christians is real:

• Churches burned

• Families displaced

• Believers imprisoned

• Communities attacked

• Lives lost

For many Christians, Lent is not only a season of reflection — it is a reminder of the suffering of the Body of Christ around the world. And when this suffering is met with global silence, it deepens the wound.

The lack of acknowledgment is not just a media gap. It is a spiritual ache.

WHY RECOGNITION MATTERS

Christians are not asking for special treatment.

They are asking for visibility.

When sacred days like Ash Wednesday pass unnoticed by major platforms, it reinforces a painful message: that the faith of billions is too ordinary to acknowledge, even as believers elsewhere face violence for professing it.

Recognition is not about power.

It is not about politics.

It is not about diminishing anyone else’s tradition.

It is about honoring the spiritual lives of millions of people who enter Lent with sincerity, devotion, and hope.

It is about acknowledging a faith that has endured persecution, division, and hardship — and still calls its followers to forgiveness, compassion, and love.

It is about seeing Christians — and Jews — not as cultural defaults, but as living, breathing communities whose sacred days deserve the same respect afforded to others.

A CALL TO SEE WHAT HAS BEEN OVERLOOKED

Lent is a season of returning — returning to God, returning to truth, returning to the heart of faith. It is also a season of remembering: remembering Christ’s suffering, remembering our own need for grace, and remembering those who cannot worship freely.

In a world filled with noise, distraction, and division, the silence surrounding Christian observances and Christian suffering is more than an oversight. It is a call to awareness.

A call to compassion.

A call to recognition.

A call to see what has been overlooked.

Christians do not ask for privilege.

They ask to be seen.

And in a season defined by humility and sacrifice, that simple acknowledgment carries profound meaning.