The Rev. Dr. Elizabeth Kaeton is an Episcopal priest and scholar who has served congregations in Kent and Sussex counties. Irfan Patel is the interfaith chair for the Islamic Society of Delaware. Ormand L. O’Neal Sr. is a representative of the Baha’i faith and an advocate for racial unity. Rabbi Michael Beals is the leader of Temple Beth El in Newark.
As the winter chill begins to thaw into the first hints of a Delaware spring, four of the world’s ancient spiritual rhythms will beat in unison. In the coming weeks, the Christian season of Lent, the Islamic holy month of Ramadan, the Baha’i 19-day fast and the Jewish holiday of Purim will overlap in a rare and powerful convergence.
To the casual observer, this might seem like a mere coincidence of calendars. But, for those of us who lead faith communities in the First State, we see it as an invitation. At a time when our national discourse is often fractured, the 2026 calendar offers a physical and spiritual blueprint for how Delawareans can move toward one another.
The common ground of sacrifice
While our specific traditions differ, the tools of fasting and reflection are a shared language. Whether it is the 40-day Lenten journey of “giving up” comforts, the total abstinence from food and water during Ramadan or the Baha’i period of spiritual recuperation from March 1-20, the intent is the same: prioritizing the soul over the ego.
On March 3, our Jewish neighbors celebrate Purim, honoring the bravery of Queen Esther. Like the other traditions observing their fasts, Purim — and the subsequent preparation for Passover — emphasizes that spiritual celebration is incomplete without looking outward to the needs of others.
The root of righteousness
The most striking bridge between our traditions this March is the call to give. In Judaism, the holiday of Purim requires matanot la’evyonim — gifts to the poor. This spirit of “righteous giving” continues through Passover to ensure that every family can afford a Seder meal.
There is a beautiful linguistic truth that underscores our unity: The Hebrew word for charity, tsedaka, and the Arabic word, sadaqah, share the same ancient Semitic root. They both describe not just “charity” in the sense of a voluntary gift but “righteousness” or “justice.”
When the church, the mosque, the synagogue and the Baha’i assembly are all focused on the vulnerable at the same time, our capacity for impact multiplies. Our shared hunger and shared history call us to ensure that none of our neighbors in Wilmington, Dover or Georgetown go without.
A message of solidarity
We invite our congregants — and all people of goodwill — to see this overlap not as a competition of faiths but as a chorus of devotion. Let us use this time to learn about one another. Let us stand in solidarity during the quiet reflections of Lent, join in the community spirit of an iftar, embrace the Baha’i vision of a unified world and celebrate the joy of Purim.
By practicing our faiths together, we learn that we are not so different. By giving together, we find that our hopes for peace and justice are one and the same. This spring, let our shared sacrifice be the soil in which a deeper, more lasting understanding grows across the First State.
Reader reactions, pro or con, are welcomed at civiltalk@iniusa.org.
