Lent Feels Different This Year—And I Need It To

by Zachary Bryant

Christ in the Wilderness - Ivan Kramskoy

Lent feels really important to me this year. Not just in the traditional, liturgical sense, but in the deep, aching way that my soul seems to be leaning toward it—like a weary traveler drawn to an oasis.

We live in a politically hostile time. The air is thick with division. The news feels like a constant loop of outrage, injustice, and heartbreak. It can be so easy to slip into despair, to let cynicism settle into the cracks of my heart like hardened cement.

But then I remember: Jesus was born into a politically hostile time too.

His ministry unfolded under the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire—an empire that crushed dissent, that taxed the poor into deeper poverty, that executed people in the most brutal ways possible to keep the peace through fear.

The people of Jesus’ time had plenty of opinions about this. Some chose assimilation, cozying up to Rome in exchange for power or comfort. Others chose compromise, trying to navigate the tension between faithfulness to God and survival under empire. Still others chose violent resistance, believing that if they could just fight hard enough, God would bless their uprising.

And in the midst of all this, Jesus stood up and said, “The kingdom of God is at hand.”

Not "soon." Not "when the right party is in power." Not "when everything is safe and comfortable." Right now.

That truth shakes me. Because if it was true in Jesus’ day, when crucifixions lined the roads, when oppression was tangible and brutal, then it’s true in ours too.

God’s kingdom is here, even now.

Even in the middle of hostility, fear, and uncertainty. Even when the world seems like it’s unraveling. The darkness of our times does not negate the reality of God’s presence. It does not cancel out the invitation Jesus offers.

But how do we experience it?
How do we live in it?
How do we step into it when everything around us feels like it’s pulling us toward despair?

We follow Jesus.

We follow him not just in theory, but in practice. We follow him to the cross. Not with swords or power-grabs or tribalism. But with faith, hope, and love.

That’s what Lent is for.

Lent is a practice of resistance. It’s an intentional refusal to be shaped by the anxiety, the fear, and the self-preservation instinct that dominates the world. It’s a way to step into Jesus’ way of faithfulness—a way that doesn’t make sense to empire, to the algorithms, or to our own survival instincts.

Lent teaches us to let go. To release our grip on control, on comfort, on certainty. To trust that when we follow Jesus into the wilderness, into surrender, into dying to ourselves—God will be there.

And that’s why I need Lent this year.

Not because I want to check a religious box. Not because I want to prove something to God. But because I need to practice hope. I need to remind myself that resurrection is real—not just as an event, but as a way of life.

So this year, I’m stepping into Lent with a new intentionality. I’m choosing to fast, to pray, to strip away distractions—not out of obligation, but out of a desperate desire to follow Jesus more fully.

Because in a world that wants me to despair, I want to live like the kingdom of God is actually at hand.

Even now.

Especially now.

If Lent feels especially important to you this year too—if you’re longing for a way to step deeper into hope, surrender, and renewal—you’re not alone. That’s exactly why I’m leaning into this season with more intention.

If you’re looking for some guidance along the way, the Eremos Lent Guide offers a simple framework for prayer, fasting, and reflection. No pressure, just an invitation to slow down and walk this road with Jesus.

📖 You can check it out here: https://www.eremosnashville.com/store/p/the-eremos-lent-guide

Wherever this season leads, may we have the courage to follow.