Monday of the First Week of Lent

The Grace to Become Sheep

"He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom." - Matthew 25:33-24

Not a shepherd myself, it wasn’t immediately clear why Jesus would choose sheep and goats to describe who would inherit the kingdom. But the desire for Heaven made me curious enough to research how I could be more sheep-like. I learned that sheep are docile, stay close to the herd while grazing low on grass, and rarely test boundaries or wander off. Goats, however, are much more independent and curious, like escape artists who break free from fences, and prefer food that is more elevated. Which of the two do you personally identify more with? Me? I’m team goat, and not in the GOAT sense either.

I have a history of being hard to wrangle, resisting authority, hating being told what to do, breaking free from rules and doing things MY way - in a word prideful. I would look down on Catholics, thinking how weak they were for obeying rules and not having the guts to hop the fence.

In today’s gospel, Jesus teaches of great rewards and harsh consequences tied to either caring for or neglecting Him present in the “least of these.” Hearing Jesus identify so deeply with the suffering of the most forgotten so clearly reveals His heart. The Good Shepherd who laid down His life, He also proves His trustworthiness. By His grace, I now see that ‘the law of the LORD is perfect, refreshing the soul.” I desire to be closer to Him and His flock, and much lower to the ground. While I don’t hindkick at His laws anymore, I still desperately need His help to carry them out.

Martin Vitorino

First Sunday of Lent

Weathered Storms

"At this, Jesus said to him, “Get away, Satan! It is written: The Lord, your God, shall you worship and him alone shall you serve.” Then the devil left him and, behold, angels came and ministered to him. -Matthew 4:10-11"

As my children have gotten older, there are more and more instances where I feel powerless to shield them from life‘s unfairness and inevitable pain: a teacher who doesn’t understand them, a former friend treating them unkindly or disappointment when a beloved extracurricular no longer feels life-giving. I can offer words of encouragement and support, but I cannot fight their battles for them, or shield them from discomfort.

The continuum of grace as a response to our sinfulness plays out in today’s readings. God cares for Adam and Eve in the aftermath of their expulsion from the garden of Eden. I resist the urge to assume the sins of Eve and resign myself to the inevitability of failure. By my own shortcomings, have I doomed my children to repeat the same patterns of self-doubt? Today’s scriptures reveal God’s faithfulness and mercy to each one of us when we inevitably fall short on our journey with him. I am imperfect, but even in the face of my imperfections God has not abandoned me, just as he has not abandoned Adam and Eve after their expulsion from the Garden of Eden.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus sits under the attacks of the false spirit: tempting him to power, greatness, and self-preservation. As Jesus resists, Satan grows bolder and more insistent. I imagine myself sitting with Jesus receiving the attacks of the false spirit. The words Satan hurls are attacks on the people I love most, while challenging my own ability and shortcomings.

Who are you to fight against these demons? You make so many mistakes, you fall into the same cycles as self-doubt. Who are you to help them overcome it?

Together, Jesus and I accept all my fears and reject the demons that drag me down as well. Jesus does not just reject the temptation that Satan throws at Him; He also encourages me and gives me the strength to do the same. I am tempted not by greatness, but by security. Rather than riches, I long for peace in my own heart and in the world around me.

I allow myself to relish the image of Jesus sitting alongside me, weathering the attacks, and storms that life places in my path. The pain and sadness do not disappear, but I rest in the confidence that I do not face them alone. I pray that my children also sense and feel that I am with them, even when I cannot solve or fix their problems for them.

Jen Coito

Saturday after Ash Wednesday

Light

"Then light shall rise for you in the darkness. ~Isaiah 58:9b-14"

What will be my Lenten practice for this season? What do I take for granted? I have been in the dark all these years even though I have eyes that can see. I discovered that I took light for granted. Light is the source that gives meaning to what we see. Light and darkness are neither good nor bad. One helps to inform the other. The way I find the light is by looking at the shadows.

It is through the medium of photography that I learned about light. Did you know that the word photography literally means light writing? “Photo” comes from the word photon (a particle of light) and “-graphy” means writing. Light gives us color, texture, and shape in what we see. Those of us who can see with our eyes are continuously bombarded by images. How do we decide what information to take in? Can a photograph tell the whole story?

My interest in photography began while I was a child. Currently, I am a student of light and dedicated photographer since 2020. Light interests me as how it interacts with darkness. Light can tell a story by the way it shapes this world. Light, as in natural light, is free.

Since last year, I have decided to put my camera down more in order to pay attention to the light surrounding me. This Lenten season, I choose to marvel at God’s given gift of light and to continue this journey of intentional sharing with God about the things that I see. For me, even though the human eye is better than a camera, God’s eyes are magnanimous.

Is there anything you have taken for granted? What has light revealed? What is kept in the dark?

Tram Nguyen

Friday after Ash Wednesday

Fasting As Healing Wounds

When we think of the word “fasting” during Lent, we typically think of food. But the original meaning is “to hold, guard or observe” a religious commitment. Throughout history, since eating food is one of the most basic human needs, disrupting the normalcy of meal times makes us feel our hunger, and coupling that with a spiritual meditation on one’s hunger for God can be a source of contemplation. But for us today, we’re often so busy between work and other activities that we eat without paying attention, a meal becomes an afterthought.

I’ve guided my theology students through a few meditations this year and many have reflected on how unusual and difficult it is for them to be in stillness and silence. Perhaps we, too, avoid stillness because we fear what will come up when we let ourselves simply be, such as hurt feelings or anxiety about the pain and suffering in our world? But what if that isn’t where we stay? 

In today’s reading from the prophet Isaiah, we get a clear sense of what God wishes our fasting would look like. Instead of “sackcloths and ashes” God longs for us to free the oppressed, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the unhoused, and God promises that when we do this, our “wound shall be quickly healed.” Maybe our fasting could look like this: Breaking the status quo by creating space to notice and listen to God’s voice in the cries of the marginalized, and then responding. When we hold fast to healing the wounds of Christ in the poor and oppressed, we also heal ourselves. 

What is one small thing with great love you can do to create space to listen to God’s voice in the marginalized? How are you invited to respond? 

Jessica Gerhardt

Thursday after Ash Wednesday

How does it mean to follow jesus?

In today’s gospel, we hear Jesus say, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” My initial reaction upon reading this gospel was to change the language so it reflects women as well as men. That aside, the funeral of a friend that took place this week came to mind. There is no doubt she followed Jesus. She heard his call to love one another, and she lived it.

She is remembered in her parish for creating the Angel Tag outreach, which, under her leadership for 28 years, gave more than 30,000 gifts to families in need at Christmastime. However, her understanding of what it meant to love one another is best seen in her open heart with her children. One of her sons spoke at her funeral about the unconditional love he received from his mother throughout his life and cited the night he came out as a gay man. He thanked her for the gift of her acceptance of who he was. His courage to share this story of his mother’s love at a critical time in his life, and her continued love and support, was moving. She would have been proud.

The homilist reminded us that this woman did not seek the spotlight. She was instead a steady light always available to lend a hand. She was quiet but strong, advocating for people who needed help or were going through an illness or tough time.

The call of Jesus to follow him is different for each of us. There is not one way, but many.

As we begin this Lenten season, I struggle to identify a path forward for these 40 days. What will I do or not do that can bring me closer to Jesus? Today, I will pray for courage, a kind heart, and awareness of others' needs, as my friend did. Tomorrow and all the subsequent days of Lent, I will look to the readings of the day for the voice of the Spirit and do my best to follow that voice.

What is your plan to elevate awareness of following Jesus this Lent?

Anne Hansen