This year for Lent, rather than give up ice cream (that’s not REALLY a difficult fast anymore), or add a virtue like being kinder to people (NAH, that never goes well), or attempt Exodus 90 (THAT never goes well either), I’m going to try to be intentionally aware of my daily practice of Catholicism.
What led to this was truly an unrelated incident. I recently heard from someone traveling in our nation’s capital who crossed the bridge spanning the Potomac River named the Arland D. Williams Jr. Memorial Bridge. Do you remember who Arland Williams was? He was a hero. On January 13, 1982, after Air Florida Flight 90 crashed into the 14th Street Bridge, 74 passengers and 5 crew members faced horrific deaths in the icy waters. Arland deliberately helped save at least five people before he himself drowned. He intentionally put himself last. Today, many cross that bridge with little awareness of what happened there.
I found myself thinking about Arland Williams at Mass while listening to the names in the Eucharistic Prayer. I realized I know very little about many of them. Of course, I recognize Mary, Joseph, and the Apostles. I know that Linus, Cletus, and Clement were the first three Popes after St. Peter. But what about the others? Sixtus II and Cornelius were third-century Popes who were martyred. Cyprian was the Bishop of Carthage and a major theologian, also martyred. St. Lawrence, a Roman deacon devoted to the poor, was executed by being roasted alive. Chrysogonus was a Roman martyr and teacher. John and Paul were brothers and imperial officers martyred under Emperor Julian. Cosmas and Damian were twin physicians who treated the sick without charge and died for their faith.
Every one of them was a hero. Each is remembered by name throughout history. But do we pass them by as easily and mindlessly as drivers cross that bridge? This Lent, I want to learn more about them. I want that knowledge to enrich my experience of the Mass, deepen my engagement, and broaden my encounter with the Communion of Saints. And not only the names in the litanies — I want to explore more deeply the prayers, gestures, symbols, and signs of the Mass itself.
I was also reminded of a Washington Post story from years ago. One Friday morning, world-renowned violinist Joshua Bell played a 45-minute concert in a Washington, D.C., Metro station. His instrument, crafted in 1713 by Antonio Stradivari and worth more than three million dollars, usually fills the world’s great concert halls. That morning, more than 1,000 commuters rushed past. Only seven people paused. Twenty-seven dropped change into his case, totaling less than $33.
How often are we like those commuters — unaware of something extraordinary right before us? Do we truly grasp the beauty and depth of what we have as Catholics? Two thousand years of theological brilliance, Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition, sacred art and music, heroic charity toward the poor and suffering — and above all, the Sacraments and the Real Presence.
So this Lent, I plan to dig deeper. When a saint’s name arises that I do not recognize, I will learn about that person. When a phrase or gesture at Mass puzzles me, I will seek understanding. When I pray, I will intentionally pray the prayers. Thoughtful, intentional, aware, and engaged — that is my Lenten plan for 2026.
Later in the Easter Season, our Faith Formation Team will offer a four-part Walk Thru the Mass on Wednesday evenings. I look forward to sharing some of the insights gained during this Lenten journey.