Norwegian bishop Erik Varden urges Christians to rediscover Lent through the liturgy and Christ’s wounds as paths to healing and grace.
Newsroom (19/02/2026 Gaudium Press ) When Bishop Erik Varden, the Norwegian Trappist monk now leading the Diocese of Trondheim, began preaching the Spiritual Exercises to Pope Francis and the Roman Curia this Sunday, his message set a contemplative tone for Lent. His appeal was neither intellectual nor moralistic, but profoundly liturgical: the road to Easter runs through the sacred rhythms of the Church’s prayer.
“If we let the liturgy speak and don’t turn it into something banal and boring, the mystery of Lent will be revealed to us,” Varden told Ecclesia magazine.
The Wounds That Speak of Redemption
The occasion also marks the Spanish publication of his latest book, Wounds That Heal (Encounter), in which Varden invites believers to contemplate the wounds of Christ as mirrors of humanity’s own suffering. Beginning with the medieval Cistercian poem Rythmica Oratio, attributed to Arnulf of Louvain, the bishop traces how the marks of the Crucified can become signs of transformation rather than despair.
The path is paradoxical: wounds exist and cannot be dismissed, yet they are not final. Varden contrasts this Christian realism with today’s cultural extremes—either denying vulnerability or turning it into an identity badge. Christianity, he insists, offers another horizon: the human person is wounded, but not defined by those wounds. The grace of the Passion, he writes, is that even scars can become openings for divine mercy.
Contemplating the crucified Christ means facing the consequences of human sin, he adds. “The wounds of the crucified Christ are wounds I inflicted.” And yet the Cross, for Varden, is not an endpoint. The Risen Christ still bears his wounds, not as shame but as glory. Transformation, not erasure, is God’s response to pain.
Lent: A Time to Awaken the Heart
The bishop describes Lent as an invitation to examine the sensitivity of one’s heart. In an age of constant images, tragedies, and data streams, he warns that conscience risks growing numb. The challenge is not to shoulder every burden of the world but to keep one’s heart from hardening—to remain open both to human suffering and to the sacrificial love revealed on the Cross.
“The Lenten gaze,” he suggests, “is a gaze that sees Almighty God accepting fragility, allowing Himself to be wounded out of love.” To recover this gaze, art, music, and literature can serve as allies, restoring the silent wonder that routine or cynicism so easily dulls.
The Church’s Liturgy: A Pedagogy of Faith
Asked how believers might deepen their experience of Lent, Varden’s answer is unwavering: turn to the liturgy. To him, it is the Church’s great teacher—its gestures, silences, and words acting as a pedagogy of the soul.
When treated lightly, the liturgy risks losing its power to form hearts and renew faith. But embraced with humility and attention, it becomes a gateway to mystery, preparing the faithful not only to witness the resurrection but to be transformed by it. For Varden, this is also a key to authentic evangelization: the liturgy itself proclaims the living presence of Christ.
From Custom to Conversion
As Lent begins, Varden’s counsel sounds both ancient and urgent. The season is not a private exercise in self-discipline nor a moral reset; it is a journey of contemplation that culminates at Easter.
If the liturgy speaks and the Christian listens, the mystery unfolds—and Lent ceases to be a calendar obligation. It becomes a pilgrimage of renewal, a school of the heart, and, ultimately, a revelation of the love that heals the world.
- Raju Hasmukh with files from Infovaticana
