Lent, But Fabulous

2026-02-09 - 12:16

Next Monday, Great Lent begins in the Armenian Apostolic tradition and across much of the Eastern Christian world. It’s meant to commemorate the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness, fasting and confronting temptation before stepping into the work that would come to define his life. It carries us all the way to Easter Sunday and is traditionally observed by giving up animal products, alcohol and cigarettes, and by recommitting to prayer and church. My family wasn’t particularly religious, so, even though we celebrated Easter, we didn’t grow up observing Lent, and I didn’t really know anyone who did. But in Armenia, Lent is palpable. Restaurants adjust, offering vegan menus. Friends decide what they’re going to give up – drinking, smoking, meat, sugar, even sex, whatever feels hardest. They quit stuff they love, they do it together, and for once, those who abstain are not the odd ones out. Every year since moving to Armenia, I’ve admired it from a distance and resolved a few times to join in. But I have to confess that I’ve never actually managed to see it through, despite secretly wanting to. It’s admittedly a bit of an anomaly for someone who regularly preaches virtues like discipline and self-sovereignty in this column. Part of the reason is that, quite frankly, most people around me who took on Lent made it look like the least fun thing in the world. They complained about how hard it was, how joyless life felt without this or that, counting the days until they could smoke, drink, eat meat and cheese again, or reclaim whatever it was they’d put on hold. It basically looked like it sucked. And I don’t like to do things that suck, so I bowed out early and told myself it wasn’t for me. This year, I’m stepping back in. And this time, instead of looking at how most people do it, I’m looking at how Jesus did it. I obviously don’t mean disappearing into the desert for 40 days without food, although every year there are stories of religious fanatics attempting to replicate the fast to the letter, and dying for it. That’s not the point. But there is now far too much literature and science out there that I can no longer ignore, touting the benefits of intermittent fasting, or even occasional longer fasts that fall well short of 40 days. Jesus didn’t give up just steaks and wine. He gave up everything, for a defined period of time. I, on the other hand, am a master grazer. My favorite hobby is constant, low-level snacking. A handful of nuts here, a piece of fruit there, maybe a square of chocolate or a coffee with something small beside it. I rarely let myself feel real hunger, and I usually eat standing, on the go. I also rarely have a big meal – usually just some eggs for breakfast, a soup or salad for lunch and dinner, and all the little treats in between. Calorically, this isn’t a problem, and I don’t need to lose weight. But apparently, my eating habits are not ideal for metabolic health, cognitive function, or longevity. To be clear, this is not a competition. Lent is personal. If giving up meat or wine or Instagram for a season is what speaks to you, then by all means do that. I’m not here to out-Lent anyone. I’m just noticing that for me, the real challenge isn’t cheese. It’s impulse control and the micro-indulgent reflex to pop something into my mouth because I’m bored, restless, stressed, mildly hungry, or just in need of a tiny dopamine hit. And because I’ve never really sustained a proper fast or gone more than a night’s sleep without a small snack, I’ve never given my body or my mind the chance to adapt. I start, then complain, and give up. So, the question is: if we’re going to do this, how do we make it fun? How do we observe Lent without whining and dragging ourselves towards Easter like it’s a finish line or a prison release date? Because here’s something else Jesus didn’t do while fasting: he didn’t complain. At least, not as far as we’re told. Maybe that’s because he didn’t treat it like a burden to endure. The Gospels say the Spirit led him into the wilderness. That doesn’t sound like coercion or an obligation. It sounds like a calling. And he didn’t fast to suffer for suffering’s sake. He did it to prepare and emerge on the other side ready to lead his ministry. He also made it look good. When the temptations came, he didn’t moan or hesitate. When he was hungry, the Devil tempted him to turn stones into bread. His answer: “Man shall not live by bread alone.” Which, in my case, sounds like: why settle for a handful of almonds now when, if you wait just a little longer, you can sit down to a delicious meal you’re going to love so much more? Then Jesus was taken to the top of the temple and told to jump, to prove that if he really was who he claimed to be, the angels would catch him. His answer: “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” Which, to me, translates to refusing to perform for external validation. And finally, the Devil offered him all the power and glory of the world if he would bow down and worship him. His answer: “You shall worship the Lord your God and serve him only.” He could have had the crown handed to him on a silver platter. He chose to take the long road, with integrity, instead. Dude kept his composure with ice-cold discipline in front of the actual Devil at all times. That’s pretty gangster. So, if we’re going to do Lent, can we do it like that? And can we maybe stop choosing to give up stuff we can’t wait to take up again? Why not choose something we might actually want to leave behind for good? And while we’re at it, why not consider adding something we’ve been meaning to take up instead? I don’t see Lent as intentional suffering anymore. I see it as a communal opportunity to grow, an invitation to transform. And this time, I’m accepting. If you’re also in, tell me what you’re giving up. Or what you’re taking on. Let’s do this together. Let’s make it fun. Fabulous. Maybe even stylish. It’s just 40 days. Well, technically 48, but who’s counting? Let’s see what happens. Let’s see who we might become on the other side. See all [Unleashed] articles here Comment Listen to Sheila’s personal reading of “Lent, But Fabulous”. Your browser does not support the audio element. Sheila Paylan is an international human rights lawyer and former legal advisor to the United Nations. Now based in Yerevan, she regularly consults for a variety of international organizations, NGOs, think tanks, and governments.