When Light Converges
In 7 BCE, astronomers observed a rare conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn. Some scholars speculate that this may have been the “Star of Bethlehem.” In the Middle Ages, such celestial alignments were often read as signs of a new era.
And now, on 18 February 2026, two cycles converge again—our religious calendars, both shaped by the movements of sun and moon. On this day, Christians and Muslims begin their fasting periods together.
That is exceptional. Not because the heavens themselves exert a mysterious influence, but because it is almost unheard‑of that both calendars align so precisely.
And this coincidence is not merely a single moment. It opens a month‑long window in which millions of people simultaneously seek inner reflection, purification, and reorientation toward God.
The Triple Light of Easter
The Christian fast begins forty days before Easter. Easter itself—historically linked to Jewish Pesach—is celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox.
This means:
- always on a Sunday (day of light),
- at the time of a full moon (fullness of reflected light),
- after the moment when day and night are equal and daylight begins to increase again.
The tradition thus chose the fullest expression of light to celebrate the Resurrection: not superstition, but a powerful metaphor—light overcoming darkness.
From that Easter Sunday, Christians count back forty fasting days (excluding Sundays), arriving at Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent.
The Lunar Cycle of Ramadan
Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar. A lunar year is roughly eleven days shorter than the solar year, so Ramadan shifts earlier each year by about ten or eleven days. In roughly thirty‑three years, it passes through all seasons and returns to approximately the same date.
This year, Ramadan begins on the evening of 18 February; the first day of fasting is 19 February according to astronomical calculation (Turkey), while in some countries it may vary by a day depending on the local sighting of the new crescent.
But what does it mean?
That both fasting periods now begin almost simultaneously is an exceedingly rare event. Our calendars run parallel for an entire month.
But what does it mean?
To see that, we have to look beyond the surface.
Under the Hood of Fasting: What Actually Aligns
From the outside, the differences are obvious. Rules differ, customs differ, the calculation of dates differs. If you remain at the level of visible practice, you mostly see what separates us.
But under the hood, in the inner movements of the human soul, something quite different comes into view.
1. Fasting does not begin with the body but with inwardness
Fasting expresses itself outwardly in abstaining from food, drink, comfort, or harmful habits. But its real beginning lies in self‑examination:
- Am I living well?
- What drives me?
- What is my life built upon?
- Where am I too attached to comfort, status, or possessions?
- What must change if I want to draw nearer to God?
In Islam, this movement is called tawba (return, turning back);
in Judaism, teshuva (return);
in Christianity, metanoia (a change of heart and mind).
Different languages—one movement.
2. Turning back is a shift from the ego toward the Other
Once inwardness deepens, something shifts:
- away from ego,
- away from the desire for control,
- away from lower impulses and appetites,
toward receptivity,
toward attention,
toward the needs of one’s neighbour,
toward God.
In Islam, this ripens into taqwā: an awareness of God, a clarity of heart.
In Christianity, this corresponds to laying aside the “old self” and growing into inner renewal.
In the Chassidic tradition, something parallel happens in deveikut: aligning one’s will with God’s will.
The vocabulary differs; the direction is the same.
3. The fruits: moral, spiritual, social
Whoever truly fasts—during Lent or Ramadan—undergoes a similar transformation:
Morally:
Greater truthfulness, justice, gentleness; less harshness and reactivity.
Spiritually:
Purified intentions; deeper attention to prayer, silence, and reflection; growth in trust.
Interpersonally:
Less aggression, more empathy, patience, and understanding.
Socially:
Generosity, almsgiving, renewed sensitivity to the poor; mending what was broken.
Sahih al‑Bukhari expresses this in the prophetic tradition (Hadith 1903) as follows:
“Whoever does not give up lying and harmful actions—God has no need of their leaving food and drink.”
In other words: fasting without inner transformation is empty.
And the Qur’an makes its goal explicit:
Fasting seeks to cultivate taqwā—God‑awareness and ethical clarity.
4. Once you see this, you see more than coinciding calendars
Jews, Christians, and Muslims follow different traditions, rhythms, and rules. But beneath those differences lies the movement of the human soul toward the same horizon:
- from distraction to attention,
- from ego to Other,
- from material dependence to spiritual clarity,
- from fear to trust,
- from inner narrowness to inner spaciousness.
Whoever comes closer to God often comes closer to others who are walking toward God.
Not because differences disappear.
Not because religions become the same.
But because the heart expands—and becomes large enough to carry the other.
5. A word for this inner spaciousness: Wusʿa
There is an Arabic word that captures this inner shift beautifully: wusʿa—spaciousness, wideness, capacity, openness.
- Within the soul: it is the inner space where God can enter because the ego becomes quieter.
- Between people: it is the space where the other can enter without threat or rivalry.
When fasting leads to inwardness, turning back, and taqwā, wusʿa grows.
And when this happens simultaneously in multiple traditions—as it does this month—there arises a wusʿa between us: a shared space where we begin not with our differences, but with our shared movement toward the good.
For that reason, we are considering using this word—Wusʿa—as the name for the dialogue‑ and learning‑platform now in development.
Not as a place for syncretism or a merging of traditions,
but as a marketplace‑space, an in‑between place,
where we can learn together from our sources, with humility, care, and love of truth.
Conclusion
The rare convergence of Ash Wednesday and the first day of Ramadan is not a cosmic curiosity. It is an invitation: a shared moment in which millions turn inward—seeking reflection, transformation, God‑awareness, justice, generosity, and renewal.
Whenever people turn toward God—in inwardness, turning back, and purification—they often come closer to one another.
Not because differences vanish, but because their hearts become wide enough to carry the other.
That is the promise of Wusʿa.
And that is the path we hope to walk together.
RP, 19/02/2026