Tomorrow my clothing choice expands. That’s because I’ve been wearing only black clothing for the last forty-something days. I’ve been doing that on purpose, wearing the modern equivalent of sackcloth, as a sign of penitence, joining with other bishops in the Church of England during Lent in prayer and fasting for our church and nation.

Lent is the period from Ash Wednesday through to Easter Sunday when many traditions of the church encourage people to take time to reflect and repent, to pause and pray. Being penitential is at the heart of Lent, recognising not only our weakness but our sinfulness, and asking God for forgiveness and freedom. After all, this is why Jesus went to the cross. I’ve been praying penitentially with particular intent this Lent, echoing the words of the Lord’s Prayer which Jesus taught his followers to pray: ‘Forgive us our sin, as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.’ I’ve sought forgiveness for my own selfish thoughts, words and deeds, as well as those of the church of which I am part. I have recognised my own failings and those of others in leadership, especially in safeguarding, and together with others, I am deeply sorry. 

Saying sorry really is so simple. Yet it’s often hard, involving an honest vulnerability about our lives and our past. But it needs to be done. This is why fasting is so helpful, because when we fast we make our bodies intentionally weak through hunger. When we do this, we soon come face-to-face with our intrinsic frailty and our dependency on God and others. Fasting also helps our prayers become embodied, as with hungry bodies we ask God to feed us: nourishing us by word, Spirit and sacrament. Disciples of Jesus in the church in U.K. need to re-learn the lost art of fasting, which is why as well as seeking to practice it more, I’ve also written a book about it coming out soon. Fasting is something that Anglican bishops have been doing during Lent, with at least one bishop praying and fasting each day, asking the Lord to have mercy on his church. I have joined with them, not eating until lunch each day of Lent, and taking one day each week to not eat from sundown to sunset.

In these days of targets and outcomes, which are mainly helpful and good, prayer and fasting stand out as things that can’t be properly measured, at least not in terms of their effects. We can record what we do, but we don’t know the results. Sometimes we see some signs, and I think I’ve seen a number during Lent, including a step-up in people professing faith in Christ, as well as more people being healed. In fact, most weeks during Lent I’ve seen people testifying to healing. Just yesterday a Vicar emailed me to say that someone I prayed for a few days ago wanted me to know that having not slept well for many months due to a damaged shoulder, she was now delighted to have slept soundly every night since receiving prayer. Hearing these kind of stories is always encouraging, but of course we can’t prove that those things wouldn’t have happened anyway, and given that much of fasting prayer is for the sake of long-term culture change not only in me but in church and community, we won’t always see immediate results. This is one reason why some find prayer and fasting difficult. You need to be committed for the long-haul. It’s part of the slow work of discipleship.

Tomorrow I will wear colour. It is Easter and Christ is risen. Death could never hold him, for he is the sinless Saviour who has defeated sin, death and hell and is alive forever. He is present and powerful, real and relational, and invites us to participate in his resurrection life and invite others to do the same. This is the gloriously good news of Jesus. It’s the vibrant, colourful gospel, that the Lord longs for all to experience so our world might be transformed. It’s the message the church has carried for two thousand years, and it needs to be declared again, this year, in 2025. When we neglect and fail to live this gospel, we are at best monochrome; when we celebrate it and share it, life becomes wonderfully colourful.