Cheesefare Week is the final week before Great Lent begins. It’s called “Cheesefare” because you’re saying goodbye to cheese and all dairy products, this is the last week you can eat eggs, milk, butter, and cheese before the Lenten fast starts.
Meat is already off the table during Cheesefare Week. You gave that up the week before, during Meatfare Week. But dairy is still allowed every day of Cheesefare Week, right up until Sunday evening. Then it’s done. Clean Monday arrives and Great Lent begins in earnest.
The week serves as a bridge. You’re easing into the fast rather than jumping straight from burgers and ice cream into strict fasting. The Church knows we’re not spiritual athletes. We need a runway.
Forgiveness Sunday
Cheesefare Sunday has another name: Forgiveness Sunday. It’s the most important day of the week, and not just because it’s your last chance to eat that omelet.
On Forgiveness Sunday evening, we serve Vespers with a special rite. After the service, we ask forgiveness from one another. Everyone. The priest asks forgiveness from the altar servers. Parishioners ask forgiveness from each other. You bow, you say something like “Forgive me, a sinner,” and the other person responds, “God forgives, and I forgive.” Then you exchange the kiss of peace.
It’s awkward the first time you do it. Especially if you’re from Southeast Texas where we’re friendly but not necessarily that direct about our failings. But there’s something powerful about starting Lent with a clean slate, having actually said the words out loud to the people you’ve wronged or annoyed or ignored.
You can’t fast properly if you’re nursing grudges. The spiritual discipline of giving up food means nothing if you’re still feeding your anger or your pride. So the Church makes us deal with it before Lent even starts.
Why This Matters
Some folks coming from Protestant backgrounds wonder why we make such a big deal about what we eat. Didn’t Jesus say it’s not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person?
He did. But He also fasted for forty days in the wilderness. The Apostles fasted. The early Church fasted. We’re not earning salvation by skipping cheese, that would be the worst kind of legalism. We’re training our bodies to obey our spirits instead of the other way around.
Fasting is medicine, not law. If you can’t say no to cheese, how will you say no to gossip? If you can’t give up meat, how will you give up resentment? The physical fast teaches us discipline that spills over into everything else.
Cheesefare Week is the warm-up. You’re learning what it feels like to abstain from something, to feel that little pang of wanting and choosing not to have. By the time Great Lent arrives, you’re ready for the longer haul.
What Actually Happens
During the week itself, the services start incorporating texts from the Triodion, the special liturgical book for Lent. The hymns shift. You’ll hear more about repentance, mortality, the coming Passion. The tone changes.
Some parishes have pancake breakfasts or potluck dinners during Cheesefare Week, last chance to use up all those eggs and that butter. In Slavic countries they call it Maslenitsa and make blini. The point isn’t to gorge yourself (though let’s be honest, that happens). The point is to enjoy God’s good gifts one last time before you fast from them.
Then Sunday evening comes. Forgiveness Vespers. The mutual forgiveness. And when you wake up Monday morning, Lent has begun. No more dairy. No more meat. No more wine except on weekends. Seven weeks of fasting, prayer, almsgiving, and hopefully some actual spiritual growth.
But it all starts here, in this transitional week when we’re still eating cheese but already preparing our hearts. The Church is wise about these things. She knows we need time to turn our ships around. Cheesefare Week gives us that time.
If you’ve never experienced this rhythm before, it might seem strange. Give it a chance. Come to Forgiveness Vespers even if you’re just inquiring. Watch what happens when a whole community asks forgiveness from one another and then steps together into the fast. You’ll understand why we Orthodox make such a fuss about the calendar. It’s not just about rules. It’s about a whole way of life that takes seriously both our bodies and our souls, both our failures and God’s mercy.
