1st Sunday of Lent

February 22, 2026

When the temptation comes to mistrust God and God’s promises, how do we react?

Matthew 4:1-11

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was hungry. The tempter approached and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.” He said in reply: “It is written: ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.’” Then the devil took him to the holy city, and made him stand on the parapet of the temple, and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down. For it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you’ and ‘with their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone.’” Jesus answered him, “Again it is written, ‘You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.’” Then the devil took him up to a very high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in their magnificence, and he said to him, “All these I shall give to you, if you will prostrate yourself and worship me.” 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.

REFLECTIONS ON THE GOSPEL

First Impressions by Jude Siciliano, OP

Genesis 2: 7-9; 3: 1-7;  Psalm 51; Romans 5: 12-19;  Matthew 4: 1-11

Ash Wednesday was a sobering reminder—those ugly ashes smeared on our foreheads, dusted our jackets and sweaters.  We quickly brushed them off our chests. Maybe the ones on our foreheads lasted a bit longer. What a bleak reminder they were about our frailty; to put it bluntly, we all face a death sentence. We were born and we will have an end. There is no running away from our creatureliness. As we survey our successes, achievements and dominance, whether as individuals or a nation, we know they are ultimately limited. The grim reaper will come along and take us away and also those we love and all our projects. After a while our names will be forgotten. Not a cheery way to being a Sunday reflection! Those are morbid thoughts, aren’t they? But we must face the truth about who we are so that we can live our lives with perspective, in other words, live our true lives. Genesis reminds us that if we acknowledge we are creatures of dust, we can also express our belief that the Eternal One has placed a life-giving breath in us. (“God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life....”) This breath orients us to God and calls us to follow God’s ways. If we haven’t been doing that, Lent is an opportunity to make necessary adjustments; in other words,  to “reform.” The gospel reminds us that during Lent we can look death, or anything that threatens our vocation to follow God, in the face and not be afraid, because Jesus has entered our desert experience and come out triumphant. He has preceded us into the place of temptation, the desert, and can help us get through our own deserts, the places where, like the Israelites, we wandered from the path. We do not have to be afraid, we are not alone and today at this Eucharist Jesus will feed us himself, the desert bread that gives us life. There is consolation for us this Lent, even as we cast a sober glance over our lives, because we have been given hope that Jesus has looked into our darkness, seen us there and has come to pull us out. As God rescued the Israelites in their wanderings, so God comes again searching us out, bringing us home. John Kavanagh, SJ says that Lent is our Christian Yom Kippur, our time of critical self-evaluation. It is a time to think things over, to reconsider and to be more aware of our limitations, our mortality and our need. It is a time, in other words, to remember that our lives need to be and can be, transformed by grace. Once more, through Christ, God breathes into us a life-giving Spirit. This dust we are has its origins and destiny in God. We have forty days ahead of us to make some choices. It is “focus time”—it’s like going for an eye exam and the optometrist places those adjustable lens over your eyes and keeps asking, “Is it clearer now? How about now?” We have forty days to choose more positive ways of looking and acting. The scriptures will be like the lens the optometrist places before our eyes. We didn’t think we had impaired vision, but then we were given a better lens and the blurred letters cleared up. So, it will be this Lent, as we listen to the scriptures and take them to heart, we will get our vision cleared.  We will learn what Jesus taught us from the desert, “One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” God wants to breathe new life into us again through the life-giving Word. Baseball players are starting Spring training.  They need this time to get ready for the opening of the season and the long season of games that will take them into the Fall and possibly into World Series contention.  Without this preparation time they will get off to a poor start and not make it successfully through the season. Like these athletes, each year, year after year, we need Lent. We need a time to refocus. We need a time to renew our baptismal vows, our commitment to Christ and our profession of faith. We notice our sinfulness and our tepid responses to the gospel; but more, we look to the one who saves us. We are reminded during Lent that we can break away from sin by the enabling grace of God. The reform in Lent is both for the individual and the community. Together, especially at these liturgies, we are called to a more attentive listening to and acting on the Word. As we listen, we become more deeply unified, we hear our family story and claim it as the one we want to believe in and live by. We could make it our Lenten practice then to be more attentive to these readings and even to prepare for liturgy by reading and reflecting on them in advance. (Most parishes list next Sunday’s readings in the bulletin—the preacher might refer to this.) The readings will discourage, even expose, our sin. But this not to laden us with guilt, as much as to denounce sin and proclaim God’s mercy. Thus, Lent is a joyful time when we become more deeply aware of God’s saving grace for us. Be careful in the Genesis reading not to make too much of Eve’s first eating the fruit.  Women have too long been portrayed in religion, literature and world cultures as the temptresses. The “Fall” from grace is our human story, not the fault of a first woman or man. In the Genesis account we are not hearing a factual “you-are-there” historical retelling. But we are hearing the truth – human beings have turned away from God. In the Genesis narrative we observe God lovingly creating humans, “by hand,” breathing the divine life into them and planting a lovely garden for them to enjoy. But they turned away from God – the human story to this day. No one needed to tell us that, we know the personal and social effects of sin on humans, institutions and God’s own lovely garden—the natural world. We can’t blame Adam and Eve for something they did “back then”—rather, we must claim responsibility in our own time and place for the choices we make. “The devil made me do it,” is a lame excuse for what we have done or neglected to do. Like Adam and Eve we have a porous wall of resistance to sin’s allures, glamor and false promises. Thankfully we have not been left on our own.  The gospel shows us that Jesus had more power than sin. With him we can overcome what we have not been able to on our own. Jesus resists the temptation to take care of his hungers by multiplying bread. He also resists the temptation to draw crowds by spectacular wonders and miracles. God will provide him and us the food we really need, when we need it—our “daily bread.” Jesus also resists the temptation to go through life on an easy ride; expecting no pain or harm to befall him.  As the “beloved” shouldn’t he expect God to protect him? And, if we are loved by God, why must we suffer? Jesus doesn’t doubt God’s love for him, even when he “falls” into the hands of those who hate him and reject his message. Jesus could have possessed the world with all its power and splendor. That would certainly have attracted multitudes to his message.  But Jesus kept his eyes fixed on his God and would not sway from his calling as a servant, to become an earthly ruler.  Through his strength we are made strong. Because of his clear-eyed vision we can see the difference between what is alluring—but passing and what has lasting value—and offers life. Let’s come to the Eucharist today aware of our deep-down hunger for God, who gives us Jesus’ life for strength and his Spirit for guidance for our own particular wilderness struggle.

LENTEN POETRY COMPANION—AN INVITATION INTO THE WILDERNESS

Ash Wednesday, Thursday, Friday

but for sorrow by Rob Suarez
I might never have asked
what could be
but for sorrow.
I might never have opened
to the terrible
vulnerability of love
but for tears.
I might never have begun
this treacherous path to
God
but for emptiness.
Source: “but for sorrow” by Rob Suarez from America Magazine, Vol. 184 No. 10 (3/26/2001)

Opening Words by Denise Levertov
I believe the earth
exists, and
in each minim mote
of its dust the holy
glow of thy candle.
Thou
unknown I know,
thou spirit,
giver,
lover of making, of the
wrought letter,
wrought flower,
iron, deed, dream.
Dust of the earth,
help thou my
unbelief. Drift
gray become gold, in the beam of
vision. I believe with
doubt. I doubt and
interrupt my doubt with belief. Be,
beloved, threatened world.
Each minim
mote.
Not the poisonous
luminescence forced
out of its privacy,
The sacred lock of its cell
broken. No,
the ordinary glow
of common dust in ancient sunlight.
Be, that I may believe. Amen.

Saturday

Late Results by Scott Cairns
We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers.
—Milosz
And the few willing to listen demanded that we confess on television.
So we kept our sins to ourselves, and they became less troubling.
The halt and the lame arranged to have their hips replaced.
Lepers coated their sores with a neutral foundation, avoided strong
light.
The hungry ate at grand buffets and grew huge, though they remained
hungry.
Prisoners became indistinguishable from the few who visited them.
Widows remarried and became strangers to their kin.
The orphans finally grew up and learned to fend for themselves.
Even the prophets suspected they were mad, and kept their mouths
shut.
Only the poor—who are with us always—only they continued in the
hope.
Source: “Late Results” from Philokalia: New and Selected Poems, by Scott Cairns. Lincoln, Nebraska: Zoo Press, 2002

Prayer: A Progression by Jessica Powers
You came by night, harsh with the need of grace,
into the dubious presence of your Maker.
You combed a small and pre-elected acre
for some bright word of Him, or any trace.
Past the great judgment growths of thistle and thorn
and past the thicket of self you bore your yearning
till lo, you saw a pure white blossom burning
in glimmer, then, light, then unimpeded more!
Now the flower God-is-love gives ceaseless glow;
now all your thoughts feast on its mystery,
but when love mounts through knowledge and goes free,
then will the sated thinker arise and go
and brave the deserts of the soul to give
the flower he found to the contemplative.
Source: “Prayer: A Progression” from The Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers, edited by Regina Siegfried, ASC, and Robert F. Morneau. Kansas City, MO: Sheed & Ward, 1989

Prayer of One Who Feels Lost by Joyce Rupp
Dear God,
why do I keep fighting you off?
One part of me wants you desparately,
another part of me unknowingly
pushes you back and runs away.
What is there in me that
so contradicts my desire for you?
These transition days, these passage ways,
are calling me to let go of old securities,
to give myself over into your hands.
Like Jesus who struggled with the pain
I, too, fight the “let it all be done.”
Loneliness, lostness, non-belonging,
all these hurts strike out at me,
leaving me pained with this present goodbye.
I want to be more but I fight the growing.
I want to be new but I hang unto the old.
I want to live but I won’t face the dying.
I want to be whole but cannot bear
to gather up the pieces into one.
Is it that I refuse to be out of control,
to let the tears take their humbling journey,
to allow my spirit to feel its depression,
to stay with the insecurity of “no home”?
Now is the time. You call to me,
begging me to let you have my life,
inviting me to taste the darkness
so I can be filled with the light,
allowing me to lose my direction
so that I will find my way home to you.
Source: “Prayer of One Who Feels Lost” from Praying Our Goodbyes, by Joyce Rupp. South Bend, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1988

Week One: An Invitation to Be Bread for Others
Sunday
Journaling:

Monday

Possible Answers to Prayer by Scott Cairns
Your petitions—though they continue to bear
just the one signature—have been duly recorded.
Your anxieties—despite their constant,
relatively narrow scope and inadvertent
entertainment value—nonetheless serve
to bring your person vividly to mind.
Your repentance—all but obscured beneath
a burgeoning, yellow fog of frankly more
conspicuous resentment—is sufficient.
Your intermittent concern for the sick,
the suffering, the needy poor is sometimes
recognizable to me, if not to them.
Your angers, your zeal, your lipsmackingly
righteous indignation toward the many
whose habits and sympathies offend you—
these must burn away before you’ll apprehend
how near I am, with what fervor I adore
precisely these, the several who rouse your passions.
Source: “Possible Answers to Prayer” from Philokalia: New and Selected Poems, by Scott Cairns. Lincoln, Nebraska: Zoo Press, 2002

Tuesday

Beginners by Denise Levertov
(Dedicated to the memory of Karen Silkwood and Eliot Gralla)
”From too much love of living, Hope and desire set free,
Even the weariest river winds somewhere to the sea—“
But we have only begun
To love the earth.
We have only begun
To imagine the fullness of life.
How could we tire of hope?
—so much is in bud.
How can desire fail?
—we have only begun
to imagine justice and mercy,
only begun to envision
how it might be
to live as siblings with beast and flower,
not as oppressors.
Surely our river
cannot already be hastening
into the sea of nonbeing?
Surely it cannot
drag, in the silt,
all that is innocent?
Not yet, not yet—
there is too much broken
that must be mended,
too much hurt we have done to each other
that cannot yet be forgiven.
We have only begun to know
the power that is in us if we would join
our solitudes in the communion of struggle.
So much is unfolding that must
complete its gesture,
so much is in bud.
Source: “Beginners” from Candles in Babylon, by Denise Levertov. New York: New Directions, 1982

Wednesday

We Wear the Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
Source: “We Wear the Mask” from The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1913

Thursday

Night Thoughts by William F. Bell
It is our emptiness and lowliness that God needs, and not our
plenitude. —Mother Teresa
Somehow by day, no matter what,
I patch myself together whole,
But all my effort can’t offset
The nightly nakedness of soul
When angels in a dark descent
Strip off my integument.
I am a cornered rebel pinched
Between night’s armies and my lack,
And when inside the bedclothes hunched
I feel the force of their attack,
I hardly know what I can do,
Exposed to God at half-past two.
I once believed my being full,
But night thoughts prove that it is not.
Waking scared and miserable,
I scrape the bottom of the pot
And then must bow down and confess
Totality of emptiness.
Kings once ventured, it is said,
To offer gold and frankincense,
But I send nothing from my bed
Except a tattered penitence,
So very little has accrued
From years of doubtful plenitude.
God who tear away my cover,
Oh, pour your Spirit into me
Until my emptiness runs over
With golden superfluity,
And I bow down and offer up
Yourself within my earthen cup.
Source: “Night Thoughts” by William Bell from America Magazine, Vol. 187 No. 18 (12/2/2002).

Friday

The Uses of Sorrow by Mary Oliver
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.
Source: “The Uses of Sorrow” from Thirst, by Mary Oliver. Boston: Beacon Press, 2006.

Saturday

What I Pray For by Dennis O’Donnell
Sacks of rocks
I have gathered from the beach,
some of which I used to toss
my own I Ching, stones representing
fire, water, wind, and the rest,
some of them with strange,
man-like markings, like circles,
probably formed by little pools of sea water,
dried by the sun, leaving behind
a round stain of salt.
Stacks of poems, sacks of rocks,
milk crates full of books
full of baloney:
I can’t let them go, not yet,
but I lie in bed and plead with God
to empty out my past, all of it,
at least all of the bad,
set me free, flush out
all the shame and rage and heartache,
but please, not the finger-paints,
not baseball and my best friends.
Deal, He says,
but all the rocks must go.
No tarot cards, and no metaphysical bull.
Fine, I say.
I have a look at my bookcase.
I see Rumi, Suzuki, Lao Tzu,
and two Bibles. So:
who will throw the first stone?
Source: “What I Pray For” by Dennis O’Donnell from America Magazine, Vol. 190 No. 6 (2/23/2004)

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

Presence of God: Jesus, As I come to you today, fill my heart, my whole being, with the wonder of your sacred presence. Help me to become more aware of your presence in my life, and more receptive to that presence. I desire to love you as you love me. May nothing ever separate me from you. ( 1-2 minutes of silence)

Freedom: Jesus, Grant me the grace to have freedom of spirit. Keep me from being bound by desires and actions that are not good for me or others. Cleanse my heart and soul that I may live joyously in your love. ( 1-2 minutes of silence)

Consciousness: Where am I with God? With others in my life? What am I grateful for? Is there something I am sorry for, words or actions that have hurt others, and which I now regret? I take a moment to ask forgiveness of God and of those whom I have hurt. God, I give you thanks for your constant love and care for me. Keep me always aware of your presence in my life. (2-3 minutes of silence)

OPENING PRAYER

Lord, you know my weaknesses and vulnerabilities; you know what might convince me to stray from trust in your care, or take the easy way out of a situation that is uncomfortable. Help me to understand that, just as metal is tested and forged in fore, my mettle is tested and strengthened when I face my weaknesses head on and do not give in to them. Keep me strong in faith and hope in your goodness.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY

From Living Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits

In all three litlurgical cycles, the Gospel of today’s Mass always features the temptations of Jesus in the desert. It clearly links with the Lenten themes of fasting, penance and reconciliation with God and with our brothers and sisters. In the First Reading, there is a striking contrast between Jesus in the Gospel, and our First Parents in the Garden of Eden. The Second Reading connects the two events: it was the sin of our First Parents which brought about the coming of Jesus to restore our relationship with God. “Oh happy fault!” (O felix culpa!) as the liturgy of the Easter Vigil says of that first sin. The weakness of our First Parents brought about the coming of Jesus and all that he means to us for our lives. It is an example of how even behind unpleasant and, in fact, evil happenings God’s love can be found at work. It is not necessary for us to understand either the Garden of Eden story or Jesus’s experience with Satan as being strictly historical. These stories are primarily vehicles to communicate important truths to us. Today’s Gospel story follows immediately on Jesus’ baptism and endorsement by his Father as his “Beloved Son” to whom we are to listen. Note that Jesus is led into the desert by the Spirit of God. The purpose clearly is not to lead him to do evil, but as a testing of his fitness for his coming mission. Will he fail like our First Parents or like the Israelites of old? Or will be prove himself worthy of the mission he has been given? The testing will be done not by God directly, but by the Evil One, the Tempter. It is pictured as taking place in a barren region between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. Jesus, like Moses before him, had fasted for 40 days. He is alone in the wilderness without food. He is hungry, weak and vulnerable. Now is the time for the Tempter to move in.

Who is Jesus?
Each of the three temptations touches on Jesus’ identity as the Son of God, which had been revealed during his baptism.  “This is my Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” The Tempter then begins, “If you are the Son of God, why not use your divine powers to turn these large, flat stones at your feet into bread?” God fed the Israelites with manna in the desert.  Surely he will feed his own Son? Why have powers and not use them? Why not take this opportunity to prove that you really are the Son of God? It is important to realize that all temptations—and these tests are no exception—come to us under the guise of some kind of goodness. No sane person chooses the purely evil unless some positive benefit is seen to come from it.  In each of the three tests today, Jesus is being led to do something which would seem to enhance his mission as Lord and Savior. In responding to the Tempter, Jesus will not just use his own words, but each time quote a saying from the Hebrew Testament.  In this first test, Jesus rejects the offer by saying that “it is not on bread alone that we live”. True happiness does not consist in satisfying material wants, in having many things, but in identifying ourselves fully with the vision of life which God gives us through Jesus. Further, for Jesus to have changed the stones into bread would have been to show a lack of trust in the providential care of his Father, who will see that he has all he needs for his life and mission.

Testing
Satan’s next approach is to bring Jesus to the highest point of the Temple in Jerusalem. This is God’s very dwelling place.  Surely here he will take care of his Son. “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.” Jesus has just shown his trust in God by not changing the stones into bread. Now here is a chance really to prove that trust. Two things would happen. First, God will not allow Jesus to be hurt. Now it is the Tempter himself who cleverly quotes Scripture: “He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” God promises his providential care in the normal course of our lives, but he never promises supernatural intervention, when we do something unreasonable. “God takes care of those who take care of themselves.” St. Ignatius of Loyola is said to have advised: “Do things as if everything depended on God and nothing on oneself and, at the same time, as if everything depended on oneself and nothing on God”. Second, if Jesus jumps and is miraculously saved, everyone will know his divine origin and will believe in him! Jesus quotes the Scripture back again, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” Real faith is total trust; it is not, as Scripture scholar William Barclay says, “doubt looking for proof”.

Showdown
After the failure of the first two attempts, Satan now drops all pretense.  He brings Jesus to a high mountain and shows him all the kingdoms of the world. All this can be Jesus’, if he falls down and worships the Tempter. Is not this what Jesus wants: to bring all the kingdoms of the world into his own Kingdom? Is that not the purpose of his whole life? It is, of course, an impossible bargain. It would make no sense for the whole world to submit itself to Jesus as Lord, and then for Jesus himself to submit to the Evil One. Yet, it is a bargain we constantly try to make: to belong to God and to go to any lengths to get the things we want: material wealth, success, a recognised standing in the eyes of others, etc. Jesus will put it differently later on: What does it profit someone to gain the whole world and lose their real life? What can one give in exchange for the deep relationship with God for which we were born? Jesus absolutely rejects the offer: “Away from me, Satan!” It reminds one of the words said to Peter who tried to deflect Jesus from the way he had to go and was told: “Get behind me, Satan!”

Symbols of real tests
In fact, these three tests are really symbols of real tests that we find in the life of Jesus. Jesus did produce large quantities of bread on two occasions, but not for himself but rather to feed the hungry. He rejected calls from his opponents to prove who he was by performing some striking signs. He said the only sign would be his own death and resurrection. After one of the feedings (as told in John’s gospel), he had the crowd at his feet and they wanted to make him king. Instead, he fled to the mountains to pray to his Father and packed his ambitious disciples off in a boat and into a storm which gave them something else to think about—survival! Jesus passes all three tests and will continue to do so all during his life right up to the moment of his death.  In the garden of Gethsemane, he will beg to be spared the horrors of his Passion, but will then put aside his own fears of suffering and death and accept his Father’s way. On the cross he will make the despairing cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”, and soon after, in total submission, say: “Into your hands I surrender my life.” The way of the Father is the only way that will lead him – and us – to the life that never ends and when all tears will be wiped away.

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today;s reading and discussion? Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow.

Reflection Questions

The Latin word used in the first verse is “tentaretur”, which is literally translated “test”.
What, for you, is the difference between temptation and test?
In what way does “testing” help us understand our strength and weaknesses and help us to grow?
What would be the benefit of “testing” for a very human Jesus as he was starting his mission in life?

Do I see the devil as my inner voice calling me to be other than I know God wants me to be because I am seduced by comfort, impressed by power and unwilling to believe in God’s care and forgiveness?

If not “bread”, what do you hunger for?

Was there ever an incident/time in your life when you sort of asked God to PROVE His love for you?

Jesus’ time in the desert was meant to be a retreat from all the noise and distractions around him as he prepared for His mission.
What things or persons, in my life, are a distraction from following Jesus more fully?
What would help me return to following Jesus more fully?

Jesus’ temptations looked like good things for him to accept, both for himself and for us. Have I ever experienced the pull to do or achieve something that is good for myself or others even though there was a cost, in moral terms?
Have I ever been tempted to do the wrong thing for the right reasons?

Do you think Jesus had to deal with real temptation in his life?
If yes, what kind of temptation?

What do you think Jesus learned about himself from his experience in the desert?
Have there ever been a time in my life when the experience of being tempted/tested taught me something about myself?

In general, does society expect people to use their position for their well-being?
Do you know people who make an effort not to use their position for their own benefit?
How do you sort out the path of virtue here in your own life?

What are some common temptations that we might be prey to?

Are you aware of an area of your life where you seem to experience temptation or struggle?
Are you also aware of sources of grace or support that God has places around you to help you deal with those temptations/struggles?
What have you learned about how God is present to you through your area of temptation/struggle?

How many of Jesus’ temptations were identity temptations? (if you are the son of God, if you are the Messiah)
How many of my temptations are identity temptations?

Are you aware of signs God places in your life that let you know that God is trying to speak to you? If not, have you ever thought of looking for some?
Are you open to that possibility?
What form might they take?

Do our problems or struggles stir up feelings of God being close to us or distant from us?
At moments like these does reflecting on Jesus’ own suffering and death strengthen us?

From Sacred Space: a service of the Irish Jesuits:
Jesus was tempted by the devil to put three values above the love of God: pleasure (bread standing for food, money, other such comforts), power (all the kingdoms of the world), and security (presuming on God to work miracles for him.). What are my temptations, the indulgences that pull me from God?

Is the power of evil real?
Where do you encounter it?

CLOSING PRAYER

Don’t forget to provide some prayer time at the beginning and at the end of the session (or both), allowing time to offer prayers for anyone you wish to pray for.

Sometimes it is so hard, God, not to be tempted by the values of this world and the needs of those around me. It is very hard not to put my needs first when I am tired, lonely, discouraged and upset. It is also hard to think of my mission as serving others, not always serving myself. How do I learn balance? How do I learn peace? How do I learn to place my trust in you?

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

Weekly Memorization
(Taken from the gospel for today’s session)
“Get away, Satan! It is written: ‘The Lord, your God, shall you worship and him alone shall you serve.’”

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions: Sometimes we read this story of Jesus temptation in the desert as if it were a one-time thing, that the lure to evil was vanquished once and for all. But upon reflection we realize that there were several other times in his life when Jesus was tempted to back down, or to take the easy way out. Here are just a few:

• When His family was embarrassed by his teaching and preaching

• When people clamored for more and more healings, more and more miracles

• When Lazarus was dying and He had to finish His mission where he was

• When Peter begged him not to go to Jerusalem that last time

• When He was seized in the garden

• When He stood before the leaders or Pilate after his arrest

• When He was dying on the cross

So with us, the same old temptations keep coming back to haunt us and torment us, even when we have said “no” in the past. Can you think of any recurring temptations that crop up again and again? How did you deal with them? If you succumbed to a temptation, did this cause you to give up on yourself, or did you hit the “restart” button and resolve to handle things better the next time? Do you believe, in the deepest part of your heart, that God understands when we fail? Do I understand when others around me fail? If not, what is forgiveness all about?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination/Consideration: Read Matthew 4: 1-11 (The testing in the desert). Forty days in a desert. Just imagine it. What does it look like? How hot is it during the day? What sounds are there? Does it smell? Are there any animals? Are you hungry? What do you do all day? Night in the desert: the lonely sounds of an animal in the distance. Are you cold? Afraid? Lonely? Bored? This is the time when Jesus was most vulnerable, and so He was tempted. Jesus was tempted to use his talents to provide for his own needs; He was tempted to test God’s love; and finally, He was tempted to forsake his trust in God in return for earthly power. How did he react? Are these temptations at all like our human temptations? Have you ever been so tempted? Have you been able to turn to God in these times of temptation? Has God been a source of strength and comfort? Close with a personal prayer thanking God for the strength you have been given to trust during the dark times. (By Anne Greenfield, from Songs of Life: Psalm Meditations from the Catholic Community at Stanford)

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Raising Questions: Let us never forget that the ordinary way to contemplation lies through a desert without trees and without beauty and without water. The spirit enters a wilderness and travels blindly in directions that seem to lead away from vision, away from God, away from fulfillment and joy. It may be almost impossible to believe that this road goes anywhere at all except to a desolation full of dry bones—the ruin of all our hopes and good intentions. (Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, p. 235). What desert are you experiencing at this time in your life--love, creativity. Friendship, family, compulsions, insecurities? How is this wilderness experience inviting you to place your trust in God? Do you trust in the Spirit enough to give yourself totally to God? What have you held back? What are you afraid of? Speak to Jesus, who has been there too, and ask for his strength and his faith in the Father’s care. (Adapted from Songs of Life: Psalm Meditations from the Catholic Community at Stanford, by Anne Greenfield)

POETIC REFLECTIONS

Read these words by Thomas Merton and the meditation questions that follow. Can we imagine that Jesus may have had some of the same thoughts during those long 30 days in the desert?

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore, will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

In his book Thoughts in Solitude Merton reveals that he is unsure about the journey, that he cannot see clearly ahead, that he does not know for certain where the journey will end or who he himself is. When Merton wrote these words he had lived through seventeen years of monastic discipline and contemplative prayer as a Cistercian. It is helpful for us to reflect that if such a man could be confused or insecure, there is little reason to blame ourselves for our own perplexity.

Pause now and in silence consider these points:

• To know the outcome of the journey is to trust God less.

• If the Spirit leads us, the journey is not ours alone.

• A journey of clarity and ease cannot reach a God of mystery and love.

• The experience of uncertainty brings us closer to our companions on the journey.

• No matter how unsettling the journey may be at times, God will not permit us to be lost.

from A Retreat with Thomas Merton by Anthony Padovano, p.10

The next poem is one we might pray when we are too enmeshed in what we want or need in this world:

A story that will save us
Tell us a story that will save us
(and that will have been enough):
all the great songs have been prayed
save only one
Tell us a story that will save us:
Go down Lord
& bring us home.
May our promises free us
not chain us
May what we desire fill us
not entrap us
May those persons we love finish us
not bind us
Go down Lord
& bring us home.
You are our history, Lord,
We neither begin nor end
outside you
May you be for us not weapon,
not answer, but cause of peace
May our questions show us not division
but the smallness of human answers
Go down Lord
& bring us home.
May our words create
not destroy
May our hands nurture
not break
May our dreams lead and encourage us
not trap us in despair
Go down Lord
& bring us home.
We are anxious about many things
We are lost in many ways
Go down Lord
& bring us home.
—by Fr. Ed Ingebretzen, from Psalms of the Still Country