Experiments in Catholicism
By Emily E Long
Contributing writer
On the Tuesday before Lent, as I was stuffing my face with chips and dip, an informal office Fat Tuesday tradition, I asked, “Is it weird that I’m a little excited for Lent?” My coworkers looked at me like I had lost my mind and responded with a resounding “Yes!”
I was excited for all that the season would hold and the spiritual practices that I was planning to take on. My plan was crystal-clear: on the morning of Ash Wednesday, I would delete social media from my phone, deny myself my daily caffeine intake, and pray my Rosary every day. When the people from the Vatican’s Discastery for the Causes of Saints called upon my death, people would note that Lent 2026 was the period in which I became consumed by my love for Jesus, and I’d be on the fast track to sainthood.
Okay … I guess it’s a bit harder to become a saint than I thought because Lent 2026 was bumpy. When I woke up on Ash Wednesday, I mourned the iced coffee I wouldn’t get to drink for the next 40 days. I looked wistfully at my phone, itching to know what memes my friends had sent me. When the evening came, I picked up my Rosary begrudgingly, treating it more like something to check off my to-do list than to grow my relationship with Christ.
While I’ve always admired the Blessed Mother, I’ll admit that I’ve never fully understood her role in the Church. To an outsider, they might think that Catholics actually worship Mary. With her statue in every Catholic church, the prayer “Hail Mary”, and so many churches named in her honor, I can understand why they might come to this conclusion. For me, it looked like two separate deities, and I didn’t understand how one would lead to another. I just didn’t understand how Mary leads us to Jesus.
Just before Lent started, I went with some girlfriends to a retreat hosted by parish visitors of Mary Immaculate in Monroe, NY, on the topic of growing in holiness while discerning your vocation. The talks by the Sisters were all so interesting, illustrating different ways to grow in our faith. Mary was an always-present path to holiness, yet I wasn’t ready to embark on that trail. During a break, I spoke to another young woman on the retreat and confessed that I didn’t really “get” Mary. She told me that the way she looked at it, Mary is always pointing you back towards her son. If we look to Mary in our times of need, then she will point us towards Jesus. Although I was skeptical about how she’d do it, I decided to try praying the Rosary every day during Lent to see what would happen.
So, as Lent began, I picked up my pink cord Rosary and began to pray. As I used this Rosary, I was reminded of the climbing rope in elementary school. Our gymnasium had two — one with knots and one without. As my fingers moved along the cord, I imagined climbing up this rope. How much easier would it be with the little knots? The little places for your foot to find balance and regain your strength, places for your hands to clasp onto something slightly more accessible than the bare rope. That’s when it started to make sense. The prayers of the Rosary are little footholds on the way to heaven. Mary is saying that the path to holiness isn’t one we can just climb up without any support. We need her help to keep climbing upward. At the end of our five decades of prayers, we don’t get to the top of the rope and ring the bell for Mary; we end up back at the cross. Mary is here to help steady our climb on the way up to Jesus.
My daily Rosary ended up being the only thing I really stuck with this Lenten season. I logged back on to social media a week or so in and never logged back out. I’m still trying to quit caffeine, but so far, attempts have been futile. I kept sticking with the Rosary, and my relationship with Mary grew, but not more than my relationship with Jesus. At the end of Lent, what really matters is your relationship with Jesus and that you grow closer to Him every day. His mother is offering a helping hand when growing closer to her Son. The question now is — will you take her hand?
Experiment of the Week: When was the last time you prayed the Rosary? Is it a decoration on
your bedframe or a climbing rope to heaven? Try taking Mary’s hand by praying the Rosary and
see how she can steady your climb towards Jesus.
