Carbon Fast for Lent

Laudato Si reflection, Week 5

In Laudato Si Pope Francis noted that human consumption of fossil fuels (which are carbon-based) has made a significant contribution to global warming, which in turn is damaging our planet (Laudato si', 23), and he asserted that “there is an urgent need to reduce carbon emissions” (LS, 165). He called this not only a scientific necessity, but also a “moral and spiritual responsibility.” (LS, 172-175). 

This week we are asking you to consider, as part of your Lenten fasting, joining us in finding ways to reduce our carbon footprint – that is, the amount of carbon dioxide put into the atmosphere through the consumption choices we make. 

Doing so can be a meaningful spiritual discipline. Far from being a merely political or lifestyle choice, caring for creation during Lent becomes a way of loving God and neighbor more intentionally. In the Christian story, the natural world is not incidental; it is declared “very good” in the opening chapter of the Book of Genesis. Humanity is given the vocation to “till and keep” the garden—a phrase that suggests stewardship rather than domination. 

When I consider my daily habits—driving short distances, overconsuming goods, wasting food—I am forced to confront how easily convenience overrides care. Lent invites me to examine these patterns honestly. Just as I might fast from sweets or social media, I can fast from unnecessary consumption, asking what truly sustains me and what merely distracts or numbs. Choosing to walk or bike instead of drive, eating simpler meals with less meat, lowering the thermostat, or resisting impulse purchases all create a small wilderness in my life. There is discomfort in these choices, and that discomfort reveals my attachments. I discover how accustomed I am to speed, abundance, and control. In relinquishing some of these comforts, I make space for gratitude. I notice the crisp air on a walk, the taste of a humble meal, the sufficiency of what I already have.

These choices can also be viewed as a form of almsgiving. The consequences of climate change fall disproportionately on the poor and vulnerable—those with the fewest resources to adapt. When I reduce energy use or support sustainable practices, I am, in a small but tangible way, standing in solidarity with communities who suffer from environmental degradation. Pope Francis calls this an “integral ecology,” where care for the earth and care for the poor are inseparable. Seeing my carbon footprint through this lens transforms abstract environmental data into a moral and spiritual concern.

Finally, these choices can become opportunities for prayer. When I pay attention to my impact on the planet, I become more attentive to the presence of God in creation. Sunlight, water, soil, and breath are no longer background elements but gifts. Gratitude arises naturally, and with it, humility. I remember that I am a creature among creatures, dependent and finite. This humility counters the illusion that my desires are limitless or that the earth exists solely for my consumption.

Lent ultimately leads to hope—the hope of resurrection. Reducing my carbon footprint will not singlehandedly solve the climate crisis. Yet spiritual practices are rarely about immediate, measurable success. They are about conversion of heart. Each small act of restraint and reverence reshapes my imagination, aligning it more closely with God’s vision of restored creation. In this way, living more lightly on the earth during Lent becomes a quiet act of trust: that even small sacrifices, offered in love, participate in a larger redemption that embraces the whole world.

Dan Sullivan, member of Laudato Si’ Circle at St. Ignatius Parish