The teachings of the Catholic Church on the liturgical year might be summarized in the following points:
This website, now archived, has a wealth of information on the liturgical year. Explore!
The liturgical year involves times of fasting and feasting. Here's one helpful article on fasting
And also SimplyCatholic's Guide to Lent has lots of information.
Prayer, fasting, and giving out of your surplus (or almsgiving) are the three primary practices we use in Lent to prepare ourselves for Easter renewal.
Prayer
Prayer, for Jesus, was time and space given exclusively to God. During his prayers, Jesus paid attention to God, and brought every aspect of his life into God’s presence. This time was fueled by gratitude and confidence. Jesus could recharge in God’s presence. He was free to be completely and utterly what God wanted him to be, and he could love God just for being God.
What does this mean for us? It means that when we pray, we stand, or sit, or kneel with Jesus, praying to his Father and our Father, to his God and our God. It means that when God looks at us, God sees Jesus with us. It means that Jesus’ own confidence in God can be our confidence, that Jesus’ gratitude can be our gratitude, and that Jesus’ relationship with his Father can be our relationship with God.
How can you spend more time (in quality or quantity) in prayer this Lent?
Fasting
Fasting means willingly going without specific comforts. Following Jesus is about deepening our enjoyment of life by learning how to enjoy God. At one point, when Jesus’ disciples approach him with food, he says, “My food is to do the will of the one who sent me” (John 4:34). Jesus lives in radical dependence on what his Father provides. His food is to do God’s will.
Most of us are still learning how to trust God with our lives. We’re still trying to figure out exactly what our purpose is. And so smaller acts of fasting – of giving up comforts – can teach us how to be satisfied by God’s will. Indeed, Jesus seems to expect his followers to practice specific periods of fasting – but he commands us to adopt these practices without grimness, with light hearts and bright faces (Matthew 6:17-18). When we fast, we take our place on the road with Jesus, enduring times of hunger and joyfully receiving the gifts of others’ generosity. Fasting teaches us courage and gratitude.
Have you ever gone without certain comforts for the sake of something greater? What good things are you regularly asked to give up in your life and work? What kinds of things make it easier to bear these fasts without grimness, with a light heart and a bright face?
Giving Alms
Interestingly, we are never told that Jesus personally gave money to the poor. Of course, we aren’t told that he didn’t give things away. We honestly don’t know exactly how Jesus and his disciples used their cash. But if we look more closely, we see that Jesus was constantly giving -- giving himself.
In fact, the word “alms” doesn’t mean cash. Originally, the old English word that sounds like our word “alms” came from a Latin word that, reflecting its Greek origins, sounded more like elee-mo-sina. And this came from the Greek ele-os, closely related to the word eleison. In many parishes, instead of praying in English “Lord, have mercy,” we pray in Greek: “Kyrie eleison.” So we have a direct connection between the word “alms,” which we usually connect with money, and the word that the Mass translates into “mercy,” a word that suggests consistent and open hearted acts of healing and love.
Jesus’ power to do miracles, all of his acts of mercy, exist so that who see Jesus might see the Father and give thanks. When Jesus heals, he gives a greater gift than physical healing. When he comforts, he gives more than momentary relief. The gift behind Jesus’ almsgiving is his most precious possession: his relationship with his Father, a relationship of love and gratitude for life itself. For Jesus, giving is the best way to demonstrate the endless thankfulness he shares with God, for the wonders of creation, and for the goodness of God in Godself.
When we reflect on our practice of almsgiving, it’s common to begin beating ourselves up for all of the ways we might give and don’t, for all of the opportunities that we ignore or overlook. Or we can attempt to compare the value of what we do give to what we don’t, calculating our moral margins to determine our net status before God and neighbor. Exactly how good am I?
So rather than focusing on what we are giving or should giving, take some time to reflect on what you have received. What emotional, social, material, and spiritual resources have come into your life?
What did you receive growing up? From your parents? Other family members? From friends? From teachers? From religious leaders?