Packing for Pascha: What to Carry, What to Drop, & Why the Hardest Part of Lent Isn’t the Burger

Fr. Mark Leondis on why the Great Fast is less about the menu and more about the map

There is a specific, low-grade panic that sets in for many Orthodox Christians right around the time the “Cheesefare” Sunday Gospel is read. If you miss it during Liturgy, you can see it in the eyes of the parishioners at coffee hour. We are mentally scanning our pantries, perhaps wondering if we have enough almond milk to survive the nuclear winter of a dairy-free existence, or if we need to make a frantic Costco run to hoard shrimp like we’re preparing for a hurricane.

We tend to treat Great Lent like a spiritual obstacle course—a forty-day endurance test where the goal is to cross the finish line without accidentally eating a cheeseburger or strangling a coworker. (Some of us even try to vote people off the lenten island!)

But this week, listening to Fr. Mark Leondis preach at Saint Mark Greek Orthodox Church in Boca Raton (video link at bottom of post), I was struck by a much saner image. He didn’t talk about Lent as a punishment, a chance to flex our ascetic muscles, or even a diet. Rather, he described it as a pilgrimage.

“Think of yourself as a pilgrim stepping onto holy ground,” he said. “Lent is not merely a date on the church calendar. It is an invitation. It is a refocusing of the whole person—heart, mind, body, and soul.”

If we are going on a pilgrimage, we don’t need a survival kit; we need a map. And conveniently, the Church provides one in Sunday’s Gospel, taken from the Gospel of Matthew 6:14-21.

As Fr. Mark points out, Christ gives us three specific coordinates to navigate the road to the Resurrection: Forgiveness, Fasting, and Treasure. So, before we start hyperventilating about the ingredients in our non-dairy creamer, let’s look at the map.

Forgiveness: Check Your Baggage

The first coordinate is arguably the most annoying because it requires the most heavy lifting. It’s how we kick off Great Lent—with forgiveness.

In the Orthodox tradition, we begin Lent with “Forgiveness Sunday.” For the uninitiated, this is a day set aside to ask forgiveness of others, and sometimes in practice you literally ask forgiveness of every person in the parish who came to Liturgy that day. It is beautiful, yes, but for those of us who are socially anxious or holding onto a particularly cozy grudge, it can be terrifying.

It forces us to realize that we can’t walk a long road while dragging a steamer trunk of resentment behind.

Fr. Mark put it bluntly: “Before we fast from food, we must fast from resentment. Before we abstain from meat and dairy, we must abstain from bitterness and pride.”

This is where the rubber meets the road. It is infinitely easier to give up a hamburger than it is to give up the right to be angry at your brother-in-law for his political posts. But Christ is clear: If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

Fr. Mark calls forgiveness “the doorway into the Kingdom of God.” It’s not a sign of weakness; it’s spiritual strength. If we start the journey carrying the dead weight of anger, we aren’t going to make it to the empty tomb. We’ll just be hungry and angry (”hangry”), which is a terrible combination for spiritual growth.

“Before we fast from food, we must fast from resentment. Before we abstain from meat and dairy, we must abstain from bitterness and pride.” - Fr. Mark Leondis

Fasting: Don’t Outmonk the Monks

The second coordinate is Fasting. This is usually where we get hung up on the technicalities.

• Can I have olive oil on Tuesday?

  • Does lobster count as a fish?

    • Is Impossible Meat cheating?

But Fr. Mark points out a linguistic detail in Matthew that we often gloss over. Jesus says, “When you fast...” He does not say, “If you fast.”

“Fasting is assumed,” Fr. Mark notes. “It is normal. It is expected.”

For the early Christians (and for the Orthodox today), fasting wasn’t a mark of being a spiritual Navy SEAL. It was just what Christians did. However, there is a caveat: It’s not supposed to be theatrical. We aren’t supposed to walk around looking miserable, sighing loudly about our lack of cheese, hoping someone at the office asks us about our extreme piety.

“Lent is not about appearing spiritual,” Fr. Mark reminds us. “It is about becoming spiritual.” We use the physical discipline to wake up the soul, not to impress the neighbors. It’s a tool, not a performance art.

If your fasting makes you proud, or if you find yourself side-eying someone else’s plate, you might be in danger of missing the point. Like I said a few weeks ago—don’t try to outmonk the monks. Keep your eyes on your own plate (and your own heart).

Treasure: The Hunt

The final coordinate on our Lenten map is Treasure. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Our efforts in Lent are designed to make us uncomfortable—Lent reveals what we actually love. When the comfort foods, the excess entertainment, and the worldly distractions are stripped away, what do we miss? What do we crave? Do we miss prayer, or do we miss scrolling Instagram until our eyes glaze over?

“Do we treasure comfort? Do we treasure control, convenience, or do we treasure Christ?” Fr. Mark asks. To switch metaphors slightly, this is the diagnostic check-engine light of our souls.

We live in an economy of distraction. We are pulled apart by “noise, screens, reels, schedules, opinions, anxiety.” Lent is the Church’s way of tapping on the brakes. It’s a season of metania—a Greek word we translate as “repentance,” but which literally means a “change of mind” or a turning around.

It’s a reorientation—it’s a checking of the compass and getting back on track with true North. It’s realizing that we’ve been treasuring the wrong things—hoarding comfort and convenience—and adjusting our course back toward the Father.

The Buddy System

Here is the best news about this pilgrimage: It’s a group trip. One of the most dangerous myths about spiritual life is that it’s a solo sport—just you and Jesus in a private room, white-knuckling your way to holiness. But Orthodoxy is relentlessly communal. We fast together. We pray together. We struggle together.

“The enemy wants isolation,” Fr. Mark warns. “The Church offers communion.” There is a immense comfort in standing in a darkened church during Pre-Sanctified Liturgy, hungrier than you’d like to be, and realizing everyone else is in the same boat. You aren’t the only one fighting the urge to check your phone or impatiently respond to your kid.

“When you wake up and choose prayer instead of scrolling, someone else in the parish is doing the same,” Fr. Mark says. “When you choose forgiveness instead of resentment, grace not only flows into your heart, but into the life of the community.”

We are strengthening the “spiritual fabric” of the body of Christ. We are carrying each other’s baggage. So when you stumble—and you will—you have a whole line of pilgrims walking beside you to help you up.

Packing for the Resurrection

So, what is the point of all this? Why the struggle? Why the forty days of veggies and so many extra services?

It’s not self-improvement. If you just want to lose weight or be more mindful, there are apps for that. The goal of Lent is not so much “a better you”; rather, it’s a prepared you.

“Every year,” Fr. Mark says, “we rehearse what it means to stand before the empty tomb.”

We are practicing for the end of our lives. We are learning to let go of earthly things so that when we stand before Christ, we aren’t strangers. We are packing our bags for the Kingdom of Heaven, and it turns out, we can’t take the resentment or the pride with us.

If we drift through these forty days casually, eating our shrimp but keeping our grudges, we will arrive at Pascha unchanged. We’ll just be the same people, only slightly more irritable.

But if we engage? If we use the tools? “We will arrive at Pascha lighter, clearer, softer, and stronger in our faith,” says Fr. Mark.

The road is open. The map is laid out. The challenge is simple, though not easy: forgive, fast, and find your treasure.

As Fr. Mark invites us: “Let us refocus. Let us return. Let us prepare.” The pilgrimage has begun. Let’s walk.

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For the full sermon and to hear Fr. Mark’s specific “St. Mark Lenten Challenge,” you can watch the video here: