Lenten Reflections
LENTEN REFLECTIONS FOR 2026
Each year, Campus Ministry collects Lenten reflections from students, faculty, staff, alumni, and friends of the University and shares them with the campus community. Please enjoy, be inspired, and share with your friends.
Lenten Reflections, February 18 – 21
Wednesday, February 18 (Ash Wednesday)
Matthew 6: 1-6,16-18
Ashes. Dust. Death.
Is that a dramatic enough beginning?
And yet, Ash Wednesday is very dramatic. We Christians who participate in this significant liturgical day aren’t just reminding ourselves about our mortality and finitude, but our dusty foreheads quietly witness to others that we should all, as the minister often says during the imposition of ashes, “repent, and believe in the Gospel.”
On the other hand, Ash Wednesday is rather boring. Apart from the reception of ashes and the fasting from food, Christians are still heading to class, going to work, practicing sports or hobbies, getting the groceries, folding the laundry, and completing other pedestrian tasks. Some folks may even disregard the day (and the ensuing season of Lent) altogether.
In each of these extremes, I see a danger. For the former, we can be tempted to put more spiritual stock into this day than we do any other day. We might rearrange our schedule to get to church on Ash Wednesday so that we can have ashes on our faces, but when the following Sunday rolls around, we don’t exert that same effort; this might be the modern equivalent of the hypocrites Jesus mentions in the Gospel who want to look like they’re fasting without having an interior conversion of heart.
Similarly, if we see Ash Wednesday just like every other day, we might also run the risk of going through Lent – and by extension, approaching the celebration of the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ at Easter – without again having that aforementioned conversion of heart.
This conversion of heart, or metanoia, is what Lent is all about, and that’s what we hear in the First Reading: “return to me with your whole heart.” This begs the question, then, “am I only giving God part of my heart?” Put another way, “Am I following God half-heartedly?”
This is where the Church in her wisdom presents us with a time-tested and Biblical solution, often called the three pillars of Lent: almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. Jesus himself says in today’s Gospel of Matthew, “When you give alms… when you pray… when you fast….” In addition to being an imperative from Jesus, practicing these pillars serves as the perfect antidote for our half-heartedness, selfishness, and sin; because we are inconveniencing ourselves, they helpfully wake us up out of our routine habits and vices so that we can be “reconciled to God” as St. Paul reminds us in the Second Reading.
What exactly does this reconciliation to God look like? If I could define it via negativa – by way of negation – if you’re spiritually the same person on Easter Sunday as you are today on Ash Wednesday, even if you’re a few pounds lighter from skipping dessert, you’ve missed the point. Worse, if you’re the same person as when we started Lent last year (or the years before), it might be time to cry out with the Psalmist, “Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.”
Is that a dramatic enough beginning to Lent?
Joel Kelley
Director
Campus Ministry & Mission
Thursday, February 19
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Choices! Choices! Choices! We are constantly being bombarded by choices.
I was shopping in Walgreens last week to pick up a prescription, and when I entered the candy aisle, I was amazed by the two long rows of Valentine candy and other Valentine merchandise waiting to be purchased for that special person in one’s life. I’ll bet I spent ten minutes looking at the various red, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and various toys. So many choices! So many from which to choose! But too many choices slow down the decision process.
Most of the choices we make are rather simple and routine – when to get up in the morning, what to wear, what to have for breakfast, etc. But there are other choices that were more serious and harder to make, like choosing a college, choosing a major, taking certain courses, and working for a degree completion. For seniors, the choice might be – what will I do after CBU? Will it be attending grad school? Getting a job? Taking some time off? Choices! Choices!
Moses, in Deuteronomy, gives some advice: Choose the Lord, our God. Choose life! “If you obey the commandments of the Lord… love him and walk in his ways… You will live and grow numerous.” Good decisions are made from evaluating the choices. In addition to Our Lord, seek advice from friends and people who know you.
During this Lenten season, spend some extra time in prayer, asking Our Lord to guide you in your decisions. He’s always there to listen, guide, and advise. But we must be open to listening to him and ACT! Examine the choices, make a decision, and go with it! Remember, he is always with you!
Br. Tom Sullivan, FSC
Director of CBU Brothers Community & Adjunct Professor
Department of Biology
Friday, February 20
Isaiah 58: 2-7
As we journey through Lent, Isaiah 58:2-7 calls us to examine the substance of our faith. The prophet’s words challenge us to look beyond outward rituals and consider the deeper alignment between our daily actions and the heart of God. Lent is a season for honest reflection—an invitation to ask whether our vocation, career, and family life are truly rooted in justice, compassion, and an authentic relationship with Christ.
Vocation: Reflecting Christ’s Character in Daily Work
True vocation is more than a job or a title; it is a calling to embody Christ’s character wherever we are placed. Isaiah’s call to “loose the chains of injustice” and “set the oppressed free” reminds us that our work should not only fulfill us but also serve others. Whether in the classroom, the boardroom, or the home, we are invited to approach our tasks with humility, kindness, and a desire to reflect Christ’s love in all we do.
Career: Rooting Success in Justice and Ethics
Success in our professional lives is empty if it is not grounded in integrity. Isaiah’s vision of true worship centers on justice—sharing bread with the hungry, providing shelter, and clothing the vulnerable. Our ambitions and achievements find their deepest meaning when they are shaped by ethical choices and a commitment to fairness. During Lent, let us reassess our goals, ensuring that our pursuit of career advancement never comes at the expense of our values or the well-being of others.
Family: Nurturing Connection and Spiritual Alignment
Family relationships are a sacred trust and a central part of our spiritual journey. Isaiah emphasizes the importance of not turning away from our own flesh and blood. In the busyness of life, it is easy to lose sight of those closest to us. Lent offers a chance to slow down, be present, and prioritize meaningful connection at home. When our families are places of grace, forgiveness, and encouragement, they become a living witness to God’s love.
Conclusion: Practical Steps Toward Spiritual Alignment
This Lenten season, let us examine our daily routines, professional ambitions, and family priorities in light of Isaiah’s prophetic call. Are we practicing justice and mercy? Are our careers marked by honesty and compassion? Are we truly present with our loved ones? May we seek alignment in every area of life, trusting that as we do, we will draw closer to the heart of Christ and become agents of His transforming love.
Marianne Ogutu
Director of Student Engagement
Student Affairs
Saturday, February 21
Luke 5 27-32
I was struggling to write this reflection and, somewhat unexpectedly, found inspiration during the Super Bowl halftime show.
In today’s Gospel, a tax collector—one of the most despised professions of Jesus’ time—leaves his post to follow Jesus. He then invites Jesus to dine with him and a whole table full of other tax collectors. The Pharisees are indignant. Why would Jesus lower himself to eat with people they find morally repugnant?
As I sat with this Gospel—Bad Bunny performing in the background—I began wondering who the tax collectors of our society might be. Who do we instinctively turn up our noses at? In a culture fueled by outrage and rage-bait, this may be an uncomfortably easy question to answer.
Might Jesus dine with Bad Bunny—a figure controversial enough that some people felt compelled to create a competing halftime show? Might it be an ICE agent who leaves their post? A politician we can’t stand? Someone who is incarcerated? People we quietly categorize as them rather than us?
We often think—sometimes unconsciously—that they are not like us (crossing over to last year’s halftime show). But in today’s Gospel, Jesus deliberately sits at a table with people others had already written off. And he does so not because they have it all together, but precisely because they do not.
That is the Lenten challenge. In a deeply divided moment, Jesus does not ask us to draw cleaner lines between the righteous and the unrighteous. He asks us to notice who we exclude, who we dehumanize, and who we assume is beyond grace. Lent invites us to imagine—uncomfortably, honestly—who Jesus might be dining with today, and whether we are willing to sit at that table too.
Dr. Colby Duncan Taylor
Associate Professor
Department of Psychology, Department of Clinical Mental Health Counseling
Lenten Reflections, February 22 – 28
Sunday, February 22
Matthew 4:1-11
Today is the First Sunday of Lent and, along with it, my favorite Gospel passage: Matthew 4: 1-11. Jesus has just been baptized by John the Baptist, and the crowd at the Jordan witnessed the heavens open and a voice saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” This is the start of Jesus’ public ministry, where he will teach radical forgiveness, heal the sick, and raise the dead. But before he can do this ministry, Jesus retreats into the wilderness where he is tested by The Tempter. It is easy to read this scene as a testament to Jesus’ superhuman holiness – but it says more about our humanity, who we are, and why God would humble Himself to become one of us. Each temptation is a cattle prod designed by the Tempter to escape the uncomfortable-ness of Jesus’ humanity.
Jesus is hungry. Satan says, “Do something about it then! Turn these stones into bread since you are Divine!” Jesus rebuffs him by quoting Deuteronomy 8: 3: “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” He must stay reliant on his own hands and community support to provide these basic needs.
Jesus perhaps doubts Himself, so he is transported to the top of the Temple in Jerusalem, the most sacred spot of the city. The Tempter says, “Throw yourself down and trust that your angels will protect you. A regular human would die from this, but surely not you!” Jesus resists seeing Himself as anything other than one of us.
Finally, Jesus is tempted with power and wealth, things that have driven so many away from our Lord. The Tempter says, “Live an easy life of comfort and influence. If you are the King of Kings, why should you live in squalor and struggle? Rise up to your station! Won’t they respect you more this way?” Jesus says, “No, God is only to be worshipped, not the things of this world.”
Jesus chooses to stay reliant on others. Jesus chooses to be vulnerable with us. Jesus chooses to stay poor with us. Reliant, vulnerable, and poor. This is what it means to be human.
Br. Danny Warwick
Campus Minister
Monday, February 23
Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18 & Matthew 25: 31-46
Today, in the first reading from Leviticus, we understand the true meaning of Lent and our call during this time: to be holy. It states, “Be holy, for I, the LORD, your God, am holy.” It also reveals what it means to be holy by listing actions to avoid: do not steal, lie, swear falsely, dishonor God’s name, defraud or rob a neighbor, withhold wages, curse the deaf, or stumble the blind; or act dishonestly, show favoritism, spread slander, harbor hatred, seek revenge, hold grudges against neighbors, or sin.
After guiding us on the negative behaviors to avoid, it also emphasizes the positive actions we should take, such as judging fairly and reproving the wicked. Essentially, all these positive deeds can be summed up in the command to love our neighbor, which Lent invites us to practice. Lent encourages us to give up certain ordinary pleasures like food, but it also challenges us to engage more in positive actions we may have neglected.
When reflecting on Jesus’s challenge in the gospel and at the final judgment, the standard for judgment is based on the positive actions we took rather than the negative ones we avoided. Jesus said, ‘I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink; I was a stranger, and you welcomed me; I was naked, and you clothed me; I was ill, and you cared for me; I was in prison, and you visited me,’ and so forth.
Examining Christ’s challenge in the gospel reveals that our actions extend beyond helping only the deserving to include those who may be less deserving. Consider the person in prison—traditionally seen as someone who has broken the law. Christ teaches that when we visit them, we do it for him, implying that our good deeds should have no limits. They should be directed toward both the virtuous and the flawed. Our duty is to serve everyone as Christ did. Only by doing this do we truly live out the full meaning of Lent!
Fr. Gerald Azike, PhD
Pastor at St. James Catholic Church & Tuesday CBU Daily Mass Celebrant
Tuesday, February 24
Matthew 6: 7-15
The Gospel makes me think of another Bible scripture that states, “ask, and it will be given to you.” It is quite simple to believe that anything you ask for in prayer will be granted. Jesus, however, teaches us that we should not pray aimlessly or without pause. Even if we pray for what we believe we want, God already knows what you need before you even ask him. It is not that God doesn’t hear us—in fact, he loves it—but when we lose faith in him, we choose to take charge when, in reality, God is in charge of everything for our benefit.
Since God desires the greatest benefit for us, he should always have control over everything. It was like when I once felt that I did poorly in an internship interview because they went on to hire other applicants, making me feel incapable of any internship. However, I came across an Instagram post a few days later that said that “if a door was closed, that means something better is coming.” Because I know that God is preparing me and creating something better for me, I am not as anxious about applying for an internship again. So, make this Lent the one in which you not only pray constantly, but also trust in God’s goodness for you.
Jimena Garcia
Marketing Major
Class of 2027
Wednesday, February 25
Jonah 3:1-10
Today’s scriptures tell the story of Jonah and the people of Nineveh. Jonah is called by God a second time to deliver a message to the city; so, Jonah dutifully packed his belongings and made his way to the city. Within a day of his arrival, his message began to take hold – people believed and turned from their worldly ways. The king was also moved by the message, as he began to deny himself of food, water, and other possessions – setting the example for his citizens. For heeding Jonah’s words and the sacrificial manner in which they repented, the people were rewarded by God – avoiding the impending wrath.
While my overview of the scripture is brief, I was reminded of these three truthsfor my own Lenten journey:
- When God calls, I must answer. Ignoring God’s call the first few times doesn’t mean He will stop. He calls the unworthy to do work worthy of Him daily.
The Work requires sacrifice. Just as Jonah followed the Spirit into unknown territories and trusted God to spread His message, may I, too, be so bold in my walk with God to sacrifice without knowing the reward.
We are forever changed by the rewards of God. God doesn’t make mistakes. If we truly listen, obey, and trust God – his rewards can change us forever.
In the routine and demands of life at CBU – both professionally and personally – I pray that this Lenten season will be an opportunity to park the scooter and listen to God’s call in my life. A call to be more intentional in my relationships with colleagues and students; to serve others with a sacrificial heart; and to see how God uses me to build His kingdom on earth.
May your Lenten journey also be one of listening, answering, obeying, and sacrificing – finding reward in the worthiness and love of God.
Wilson Phillips
Administrative Coordinator, Student Affairs
CBU Alumnus, Class of ‘08
Thursday, February 26
Matthew 7:12
“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”
The Golden Rule: Do to others what you would have them do to you.
As I grow older, this sentence becomes more and more impactful for me as I encounter the youth entrusted to my care. Of course, there is a sense of authority that is present between our relationships, but I feel as though this quote from the Gospel of Matthew keeps me from letting the power get to my head. The same can be said for other aspects of our life; This Gospel speaks of giving a rock to someone who asks for bread, a snake when they ask for a fish. What if we were to sit back and look at the encounter we have with Jesus on our journey home as he sits on the street asking for money; do we give him something like the chips that came free with our sandwich because we did not want them, or do we give him the sandwich that we have been thinking about all week? The sacrifice that we give for those less fortunate than us can come back ten times. Only then will we truly understand the eyes that Jesus embodies.
This Lenten season, make the sacrifice that seems too broad and radical to make. There is no measurement of what that sacrifice is, but the emotion deep within our hearts will repair the brokenness that we may be feeling or the brokenness that is healed deep down with a Band-Aid and not proper attention. Give yourself to God’s love and don’t ever look back. When God asks for a minute of your time, give him 15 minutes; It will be reflected in your voice towards others as well as the faces of those you encounter each and every day.
Br. Christian Camacho
Coordinator of the McLaughlin Social Justice Institute of Lasallian Practice
Friday, February 27
Ezekiel 18:21-28
Turn away, turn from, turning turning turning. What does it mean to turn away from something? Ezekiel turns us both toward and away from sin in this passage; after all, in order to turn away from something you must first turn towards it and in order to turn away from it, you must recognize what it is you turn from.
In The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov the author writes, “You pronounced your words as if you refuse to acknowledge the existence of either shadows or evil. But would you kindly ponder this question: What would your good do if evil didn’t exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. But shadows also come from trees and from living beings. Do you want to strip the earth of all trees and living things just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light? You’re stupid” (Burgin and Tiernan O’Connor translation, page 305).
The argument that you cannot have light without dark is a tired one. But God does not ask us not to sin. He asks us to turn away from evil. Mustn’t we, then, sin in order to recognize sin? If, as Ezekiel implies, virtue is a way and a practice of good, then mustn’t evil be a way and a practice made of many sins?
God turns towards us. We turn towards him in protest. We don’t want to change. He listens and responds in kind. God recognizes evil as we recognize our own shadow. Perhaps, then, we cannot disdain sin. We cannot dismiss the shadows in our stupidity. Instead, we can only dismiss the practice of evil. We all cast shadows, but we do not have to cast darkness.
Michal Kennel
Admissions Counselor, Admissions
Saturday, February 28
Deuteronomy 26: 16-19 & Matthew 5: 43-48
In Deuteronomy: 26: 16-19, Moses tells the people, “You will be a people sacred to the Lord.” They are chosen – but not for privilege. They are chosen for responsibility. They are called to live differently. To keep the commandments. To reflect God’s character.
As a Coach, I do not have a team unless I choose carefully. Hundreds of hours go into the recruiting process. Who will be the right fit? Who can accept the responsibilities? Who can succeed in living the life of a student-athlete? Every chosen athlete must embrace expectations; they represent something bigger than themselves: the program, the university, the tradition. When a player puts on their jersey, it needs to be with pride and commitment – wearing the jersey means something.
In Lent, we are reminded that wearing the name ‘Christian’ means something.
We’re set apart, but not because we are better. We are set apart because we are called to a higher standard.
Then Jesus raises the bar even higher: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
In basketball, competition is natural. There are rivalries. Physical play. Trash talk. Hard fouls. Officials you disagree with.
It’s easy to love your teammates.
It’s easy to love the fans when they’re cheering.
It’s easy to love when we’re winning.
But Jesus says, “Love your enemies.” That doesn’t mean you don’t compete hard. It means you compete with integrity.
You will still defend your opponent, you will still take your opponent’s ball, and you will still block your opponent’s shot.
As a Coach, I have told my players:
We don’t control the refs.
We don’t control the crowd.
We do control our response.
That’s the Gospel in basketball language.
Christian maturity shows up in how we respond when tough things happen:
We don’t get the call
We don’t get the minutes
We lose at the buzzer-beater
Someone disrespects us.
Lent asks: Can we respond differently?
John T. Reilly
Head Men’s Basketball Coach
Lenten Reflections, March 1 – March 7
Sunday, March 1
Matthew 17:1-9
In today’s Gospel, we witness the Transfiguration — a moment when Peter, James, and John see Jesus in radiant glory and hear the voice of God: “This is my beloved Son.” It is an extraordinary mountaintop experience. But if we are honest, many of us hear this story with familiarity rather than awe.
What if we had been there? What if someone we loved suddenly revealed something divine and overwhelming? Would we believe our eyes? Would we run to tell everyone?
Peter wanted to stay on the mountain. But Jesus leads them back down — back to uncertainty, conflict, and ultimately the cross. The glory was not meant to be an escape from reality, but strength for what lay ahead.
And then Jesus tells them to wait. Tell no one… not yet.
Waiting is hard — especially for college students living in a world of deadlines, decisions, and constant pressure to know what comes next. You may be waiting for acceptance letters, internships, clarity about your major, healing in a relationship, or a sense of direction for your future. You may be praying for answers that seem slow to come.
Lent is a season of waiting — not passive waiting, but active preparation. It invites us to trust that God is at work even when we cannot see the full picture. The disciples did not understand the Transfiguration until much later. Only in hindsight did its meaning become clear.
Often, our own lives work the same way. The moments that shape us most deeply are not always the loud or dramatic ones, but the quiet seasons of perseverance, discernment, and trust.
As Lasallians, we believe God is present not only on the mountaintop, but also in the classroom, the residence hall, the library, and the everyday rhythms of life.
This Lent, perhaps the invitation is not to have everything figured out, but to listen more deeply, walk faithfully, and trust that God’s timing — however mysterious — is leading us toward who we are meant to become.
Kerry Conroy (’99)
Director of Formation for Mission, Christian Brothers of the Midwest (Lasallian District Office Staff)
Monday, March 2
Daniel 9:4-10
As I continue to sit with this passage, Daniel 9:9 stands out to me the most: “The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against Him.” There is something so comforting about that. It brings a deep sense of security to know that no matter what, we already have someone to run to. When we mess up, when we fall short, when we realize we have made a mistake, God is not surprised. He already knows. And yet, He is still there, ready to receive us with mercy and forgiveness.
I think of the love of my earthly parents for me. Even though they are human and imperfect, they have still shown me a love that feels unconditional. They have seen me at my best and at my worst. They have watched me make mistakes, fall short, and sometimes not follow their guidance the way I should. Yet they still love me, care for me, and are always there for me. If I can understand that kind of love from people who are still sinful and imperfect, then I cannot even begin to fathom the vastness of God’s love for us. His love is deeper, greater, and more faithful than anything we experience on earth. Even when we turn away, even when we mess up, even when we fall back into old habits, He never stops being there.
That kind of security is something we all need in our lives. During Lent, we are not striving for perfection, but for relationship. Many of us choose to give up something or add something to our daily routine during this season. We might fast, pray more, read Scripture, or serve others more intentionally. But life still moves, and there may be days when we forget. There may be moments when we fall back into old habits. We might miss a few days of devotion or struggle to stay consistent.
In those moments, it is so important to remember Daniel 9:9. Instead of feeling like a failure or becoming discouraged, we can simply turn back to God. We can pick up where we left off. We do not have to hide or feel ashamed. God already knows our weaknesses, and He does not expect perfection. What He desires is sincerity. He desires hearts that are willing to return to Him again and again.
MyRanda White
2025-2026 Lasallian Fellow
Civil Engineering Major
Class of 2026
Tuesday, March 3
Matthew 23: 1-12
The Mass readings for today are very much in the spirit of Lent. They challenge us to forsake sin and embrace justice and right. The Gospel indicates that, to do so, we must embrace humility: ‘”Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12)
The example the Church presents today is St. Katharine Drexel. She exemplifies the verse from Isaiah in the first reading: “Make justice your aim. Redress the wronged. Hear the orphan’s plea. Defend the widow.”
Katherine Drexel was an heiress who dedicated her life to serving the African American and Native American people. She felt they were neglected. Her original intent was to sponsor others in this work, but when she presented it to the Pope, he suggested she do it herself. Thus, a new Religious Community – Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament.
It’s always easier to say that “Someone should do something” about a situation. My experience was that I felt “someone” should do more for the educational service of the poor. When I met the Brothers in St. Louis, I heard the call. Someone was me! I am no Katherine Drexel, but I am grateful for this call. Every year during Lent, that call is renewed and enables me to work for justice and right.
Br. Alan Parham, FSC
Catechist & Former CBU Campus Minister
Wednesday, March 4
John 8:12
“I am the light of the world, says the Lord; whoever follows me will have the light of life.” – John 8:12
There’s no doubt that our world holds real darkness. We see it in heartbreaking news stories or troubling events nearby, and we feel it in seasons of stress, grief, uncertainty, or struggle. Sins committed by us or against us can also feel like darkness. Yet darkness is the perfect environment for light to shine.
Jesus Christ says, “I am the light of the world.” Unlike lights in our homes or workplaces, which can fail, His light does not flicker, cannot be switched off, and is not limited to one place. It shines in creation, hope, love, and even our most difficult moments.
Light shows us where we are and where to go. During Lent, as we pray, fast, reflect, repent, and spend time with God, we may notice parts of our lives that feel dark or out of balance — stress, unhealthy habits, or broken relationships. This awareness is not meant to discourage us but to invite growth, healing, and renewal. Jesus’ light restores and brings life, not shame.
Many sit in darkness because they do not realize they can follow Jesus or share in the promise: “whoever follows me will have the light of life.” Whoever means anyone — no exclusions. Background, culture, accomplishments, struggles, or circumstances do not disqualify us. Jesus is opening a door for all. All are welcome to follow Him.
Choosing to follow Him is the key to moving forward — moving out of darkness, despite darkness, through darkness, and with the Light. Following Jesus may look like choosing patience, offering kindness, making time for prayer and Scripture, saying no to unhelpful patterns, or encouraging someone in need. His light can appear as peace, clarity, guidance, truth, awareness for growth, and the chance to begin again.
I once said, “Keep going. There’s light at the end of the tunnel,” to encourage someone. Now, I probably won’t just say that because I realize the light isn’t only at the end, but even in life’s dark tunnels, we can have light along the way. Following Jesus gives constant access to the Light of life, guiding the way with hope and direction. It’s much easier to move forward through difficulty when the path is illuminated.
To follow Christ is to move with faith when things feel dark, trusting that God’s presence is stronger than any darkness. Darkness does not have the final word. May we embrace the light and let it guide us during this Lenten season and beyond.
RaKesha Gray
Associate Director, Campus Ministry
Thursday, March 5
Jeremiah 17: 5-10
When we hear “TLC,” we probably start to think of tender love and care. You know the tender comfort in hard times, loving warmth when life feels cold, Careful reassurance in uncertainty. While God certainly provides that kind of TLC, this passage leads us to think deeper. What if the TLC we truly need is not just emotional comfort, but a Trustworthy, Loyal Confidant?
This scripture contrasts two kinds of trust, trust in man and trust in the Lord. The one who trusts in human strength is described like a shrub in the desert, which is dry, isolated, and ultimately unable to thrive. When we rely solely on people, status, or even our own understanding, we risk spiritual uncertainty. People disappoint us. Circumstances shift. Even our own judgment can be flawed. Placing ultimate trust in temporary sources leaves us spiritually parched.
On the other hand, the one who trusts in the Lord is compared to a tree planted by water. Its roots stretch deep. It does not fear when heat comes. Its leaves remain green, and it continues to bear fruit even when faced with challenges. This idea is showing us the stability, nourishment, and the greatness of God’s grace. Trusting God does not mean challenges disappear; it means we are kept and guided through the mist of them.
This passage also reminds us that the heart is deceitful above all things. This is a humbling truth when you think about it because, we often believe our feelings are reliable guides, yet our emotions can lead us wrong. The slightest event or circumstance can sway our heart and influence us to make rash decisions. We can justify wrong choices, ignore wise opinions, or convince ourselves that we are stronger than we are. This is where God shows us that he is more than just a comforting figure, but he is trustworthy. Scripture says, “I the LORD search the heart and examine the mind, to reward each person according to their conduct, according to what their deeds deserve.” This shows that he sees what we cannot see in ourselves, he will search our hearts for our true intentions to back up our thoughts and actions.
Calling God our Trustworthy, Loyal Confidant means we trust him with more than just our circumstances, and more than the closest people to us in this world. We trust Him with our plans, our motives, our fears, and our secrets. He is loyal in every season, not just when life feels easy. He does not betray confidence, grow apart from us, or change His character. He will always remains steady.
So, is God the TLC you need? Not only the tender love and care that soothes your emotions, but the Trustworthy, Loyal Confidant who anchors your life.
Manning Davis
Black Student Association Vice President & Men of Excellence Treasurer
2025 -2026 Lasallian Fellow
Accounting Major
Class of 2026
Friday, March 6
Genesis 37:3-4, 12-13a, 17b-28a
Suffering is something everyone experiences, whether it’s mentally or physically. It’s part
of life. But have you ever stopped to ask yourself why we suffer? Is it because of the bad
decisions we make? Is it because we have become used to it? There are many reasons why
suffering exists, but I believe the main reason is that God allows it for a purpose. I believe that through suffering, God is testing not only our strength but also our faith in Him.
An example of this can be found in the Book of Genesis, chapter 37, in the story of
Joseph. Joseph was rejected by his own brothers and sold to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. He suffered betrayal from his family and was later falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife. Altogether, he spent about thirteen years as a slave and a prisoner.
But why did Joseph suffer so much? What did he do to deserve it? The truth is—nothing.
Joseph was innocent. He did not commit a crime or betray anyone. So why would God allow an innocent man to suffer for so many years? It was part of building him up.
Sometimes God places obstacles in our lives that feel impossible to overcome. In those
moments, we may feel lost, stressed, or even hopeless to a point where you don’t even know what to do in life. But as it says in First Corinthians 10:13, “No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”
In life, suffering will come. But it is up to us whether we allow it to break us or strengthen us. My biggest advice is to not lose faith in God. Trust that He is guiding you through whatever you are facing. As Romans 8:18 reminds us, “Our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed to us.”
Just like Joseph, who endured years of suffering but later became second in command
over Egypt, your suffering may be preparing you for something greater. So do not stress over what you cannot control. Have faith in the Lord. He knows why you are going through what you are going through, and He will guide you through it and bless you in ways you may not even expect
Bryan Menjivar
Co-chair of Spirituality and Evangelization Committee, Campus Ministry
Class of 2029
Saturday, March 7
Micah 7:18-20
Guilt and sin are the heaviest things a person can carry. I think about this all the time, all the times in my life I’ve sinned, and how that weighed me down for the longest time. Thinking that I would never be forgiven by God.
We often weigh ourselves down by dwelling on the mistakes we have made, but we forget to consider how we can be forgiven or even become better. It’s not one mistake that defines who you are or who you will become because our merciful God has always been good to us, taking us in his love even when we feel like we aren’t doing the right thing. In Micah 7:18-20, it states how God will not stay mad at us forever; He will be delighted when showing us clemency. He mentions the promise God made to our ancestors, Abraham and Jacob, promising blessings and countless descendants. Coming to show God will never punish us or stay mad at us forever as long as we know our wrongdoings and come with an open heart. God has always had compassion for us. God knows we aren’t perfect. Although sin isn’t accepted by God, he allows us to have choices; it’s up to us if we want to choose to always make him happy or not.
Veronica Gomez
Student Minister, Campus Ministry
Class of 2029
Lenten Reflections, March 8 – March 14
Sunday, March 8
Exodus 17:3-7; Romans 5: 1-2, 5-8; John 4: 5-42
As I reflect on these readings during Lent, I am drawn to the themes of trust and transformation. There are so many lessons I struggle to fully learn, and I always benefit from the ways God reminds me to return.
In Exodus, the Israelites grumble and doubt God even after witnessing miracles, crying out for water in the desert. I see myself in that impatience, wrestling with uncertainty about my path, my ability to meet expectations, or my place in the community. Like the Israelites, I sometimes question whether I would have what I needed to grow, both professionally and spiritually. Yet, God has never failed to provide guidance, support, and opportunities for growth, even when I struggled to see the way forward.
Paul’s words in Romans remind us that God’s love is poured into our hearts even while (or especially while) we are imperfect. During my time at CBU, I experienced this love through mentors, professors, and peers who offered encouragement, wisdom, and patience. They reminded me that grace is not earned through perfection but received in trust and openness. Lent calls me to embrace this gift more fully, letting it shape my heart and my actions.
The Gospel story of the Samaritan woman at the well never fails to shock me to my core. Jesus meets her where she is, offering living water that satisfies thirst permanently. God knows what we need and is offering it to us! We are seen, known, and loved if only we accept it. I think of the moments when attempting to relate with others has opened my eyes to new perspectives, strengthened my faith, and challenged me to live with purpose. Today, that story also reminds me of my work on the Blackfeet Reservation, walking alongside students and families experiencing pain and in need of healing. Building trust takes patience, humility, and consistency, and sometimes the thirst for understanding, support, or hope feels urgent. Like the woman at the well, I am called to listen, offer support grounded in God’s love, and help others experience the living water of Christ in their lives by reaching out in humility and out of my comfort zone.
This Lent, I pray for the patience to trust God’s presence in the desert moments of life and in my work, for the wisdom to guide students and families with compassion, and for the courage to be a source of hope and encouragement, just as I was blessed to receive during my time at CBU. May we all continue to draw from the living water of Christ and help others recognize him in their own journeys.
Br. Dylan Perry, FSC
Principal, De La Salle Blackfeet School
Class of 2010, Religion & Philosophy
Monday, March 9
2 Kings 5: 1-15
In today’s scripture reading, Naaman discovers that being obedient and following the directions of the prophet Elisha (bathing in the Jordan River rather than bringing lots of gifts) is more pleasing to God. So, Naaman’s request for a cure for his leprosy is granted.
The story has meaning for us now. Today we have many things to do. But sometimes we forget to think of God. Thanking God, requesting help, or praising God is a simple task. Taking a moment to think of God in this manner is a way of letting God know that we love Him. Extending the one moment to a few more minutes and using a passage from scripture is a way of reminding ourselves of God’s working in us. Meditating is a very good way to pray, but taking a few minutes to recall God’s presence now and then is even simpler.
Br. Joel Baumeyer, FSC
Retired faculty
Christian Brothers University
Tuesday, March 10
Matthew 18: 21-35
The Gospel of Matthew hits different for me this Lenten season as I watch the immigrant community become a target of political unrest, fear-based rhetoric, and policies that treat human lives like problems, instead of people to be protected. As an immigrant myself, it’s hard to read Jesus’s words about mercy, forgiveness, and compassion without seeing the faces of families like mine navigating uncertainty, the faces of students carrying stress they didn’t create, and the faces of communities absorbing blame for systems they don’t control. This season, the Gospel feels painfully current.
When we think about forgiveness, seven feels like a lot, and honestly, it feels unfair, kind of like allowing yourself to be passive and walked on, but still Jesus pushes us to do more. He extends it to seventy-seven, and really, what he’s probably saying is forgive without keeping score. Forgive in a way that refuses to let resentment become your worldview.
In a world where we are told we must always be fighting the unrest, forgiveness can feel like choosing peace while injustice is still unfolding. When people are being targeted, dehumanized, or reduced to political talking points, forgiveness can feel like the wrong spiritual muscle to exercise. The instinct is to protect, to harden, to draw lines, to say, “Enough is enough.” And that instinct isn’t wrong. Jesus never asks us to pretend harm isn’t happening. He never asks us to confuse forgiveness with silence or passivity.
The parable Jesus tells isn’t about ignoring injustice. It’s about what happens when people who have received mercy forget how desperately they needed it. The tragedy we see unfold is a result of forgetting that we are given endless grace throughout our lives.
Lent presses me to reflect on the following:
Where have I received grace I didn’t earn?
Where have I been spared when I easily could have been judged?
Where has my own story depended on someone else choosing compassion over
punishment?
Their forgiveness didn’t mean excusing my harm. Much like our forgiveness doesn’t mean excusing harmful systems or harmful rhetoric. It doesn’t mean staying silent in the face of injustice. Forgiveness, in this season, should feel more like refusing to let anger become the only language of my heart.
Dr. Laura Garza, EdD
Class of ’19 (BA, Early Childhood Education)
Wednesday, March 11
Deuteronomy 4: 1, 5-9 & Matthew 5: 17-19
As I reflect on today’s readings (Deuteronomy 4:1, 5-9 & Matthew 5:17-19), I find myself thinking of the paradox of laws. In both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament, the God of Israel is insistent on two things: being close to Him and following the laws He gave to Moses. Many times, these are presented as the same thing. But why is it that God’s greatest gift to us before His Only Begotten Son was these laws? If our God is a God of freedom, the same God that delivered the Israelites from the land of Egypt, then certainly a set of laws seems like a funny way to express that freedom!
This dichotomy has me thinking about the vows that I hope to take as a Brother in a few years (God willing): primarily those of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Much has been written on these by much better Christians than I, so I will try not to tread on familiar ground. Often in my interactions with college students, after explaining the life of a Brother, they are utterly shocked that someone would willingly be poor, forgo marriage, sex, and children, and (somehow worst of all) agree to be obedient! I explain it the way Brothers of many years have explained it to me: vows and laws aren’t about restricting freedom, they’re about discovering new depths of God’s freedom. By saying no to the well, we miraculously stumble upon an ocean.
But this is not the way of our world. Purposefully denying oneself pleasure, riches, and self-determination is seen as lunacy and self-abasement. After all, in a world where God has died, the only thing left to live for is our carnal experiences. Instead of this shallow world, God has given his people laws so that they may be set apart. God has bestowed on us an experience of transcendence through a paradoxical freedom: that in our limitations and reliance on God, we may be in relationship with Him even deeper. In the limits of the cross (i.e., death and suffering), the door of eternity has been opened to us. This is why Jesus said, “I have come not to abolish [the law] but to fulfill.”
This Lent, may we as Christian people come to know true freedom in our sacrifice of worldly pleasures.
Br. Danny Warwick
CBU Campus Minister
Thursday, March 12
Luke 11: 14-23
The readings today are a great reminder of God’s unfailing love for us. God has worked for us as it says in the first reading, “untiringly.” God works without end and never ceases to tire of trying to help us. However, despite all this, our world can seem at times sad, miserable, and even pointless. The world, at times, can feel like a form of Hell. Whether it be self-made, such as self-imposed standards that are too high, and then self-hatred when we fail to meet those goals. Or whether it comes from other people, possibly in the forms or insult or bias. Or even from some unseen evil force within the world. In these times, God wants us to know it is not our job to worry. God’s effort for us is exemplified best in the coming of his only begotten son, Jesus Christ. In the Gospel reading, Jesus says, “When a strong man fully armed guards his palace, his possessions are safe. But when one stronger than he attacks and overcomes him, he takes away the armor on which he relied and distributes the spoils.” The strong man in this short parable is that sadness, miserableness, pointlessness, or whatever else we may feel that takes away our joy of life. The stronger one who overpowers him is Jesus. If we have a life in Christ, our joy is secured; we need only trust in God. I lived many years away from church and away from God. I searched for fulfillment apart from God, and I found nothing. I know all too well the feelings that take away from our joy in life. But just as in the readings, God never gave up on me. God never tired, and finally, I allowed Jesus to enter my house and overpower the strong man. After ten years, I stepped into a church for the first time and began to listen to what God had been trying to tell me all along. Now my heart is at peace, as St. Augustan said, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You, O God.”
Braden Pullen
Class of ’26, Religion & Philosophy
Seminarian for the Diocese of Memphis
Friday, March 13
Hosea 14:2-10
“Thus says the Lord: Return, O Israel, to the Lord, your God; for you have collapsed through your guilt…Return to the Lord…I will heal their defection, says the Lord, I will love them freely.”
I think a lot about my relationship with the Lord these days. A year ago, I learned who the Lord was, nine months ago I gave my life to Christ, and as far as today…I go through periods of closeness and distance with Him. Yet, I’m often brought back to the phrase “return to the Lord, for he loves freely.”
I often try to carry everything by myself. Between academics, passions, hobbies, career choices, routines, and regard to my future, I smile and tell people I can handle it all on my own with no help. Equally, I try to carry others as much as I can. From long phone calls to common visits to seeing what I can take off their shoulders, I commonly take on too much on my own. Part of me thinks if only I could carry it all without stumbling, I would be worthy of love from those around me.
With all I hold, and the more I take on, the busier I become. And in the busyness, I tend to let my time with the Lord be the first thing to slip when I’m overwhelmed. I tell myself He’ll always be there, so it’s okay if I take a day to not pray or read or sit in His presence. Yet, a day becomes a week, and the weeks stretch on. At some point, using busyness as an excuse morphs into avoidance, ridden with guilt for how long it’s been since I last sat down with the Lord.
Along with that guilt, there’s a bit of fear, too. What if the Lord sees me struggling to carry everything I hold? Would He judge me? Would I be worthy of His love if I can’t carry it all? Like most, I can only carry so much before crumbling, and when I do, a quiet, peaceful voice calls me with the words, “Return to the Lord, your God. Return to the Lord for He loves freely.” I suddenly remember that the calm that I crave in the craziness is found in His love. In these verses, I come back to find that God loves us simply as we are and for who we are. You don’t have to be able to carry the world to earn love from the one who created it. God’s love is free, and He is eagerly awaiting the day we return to Him and allow Him to lighten the load with His love.
Audrey Brown
Class of ’29
Saturday, March 14
Hosea 6: 1-6 & Luke 18: 19-14
The opening lines of today’s First Reading admittedly gave me pause, as Hosea recounts Israel’s sternly-worded plan back to God. Quickly dismissing their plan, he writes that God does not desire legalism, superficiality, or extravagance. This contrast reminds me of my own relationships: how sometimes I would rather stay cold and legalistic than attempt the messy work of loving someone, even God.
The Psalmist writes, “My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn.” That is the part I so often miss when I try to love someone. It doesn’t have to be grand declarations, ornate rituals, expensive gifts; love shouldn’t be a performance at all.
Some time ago, I couldn’t figure out why a friend of mine had appreciated a high five during a tough time so much. I told another friend, who said, in effect, “You cared. You showed up when others wouldn’t. And she noticed.” I couldn’t believe something so simple could have such a profound effect; I couldn’t understand how a high five was enough. (Spoiler: it wasn’t the high five.)
What we hear from Israel in the First Reading parallels what we hear from the Pharisee in the Gospel: a choreographed performance of piety, what I would have thought was “enough.” The tax collector gives God the sacrifice God really wants, not a ram or a dove, but “a heart contrite and humbled.” Because the tax collector did the messy work of examining his own conscience and showing up for God, with all his faults, even though it was probably scary.
I now know that the high five was secondary. Showing up at all was enough, not because it was grand, but because it was real. That night, I was scared: to step out of my shell, of getting too close to her pain, of facing my own inadequacy. So the next time I am tempted to “love” someone by an impersonal, performative act, I will remember that night and pray that, like the tax collector, I will approach my friend, my God, with a heart open and willing to feel—even pain—and to grow in relationship to one another and to God.
Daniel Ward
Accompanist, Stritch Chapel
Music Director, Catholic Church of the Incarnation
Lenten Reflections: March 15 – March 21
Sunday, March 15
John 9:1-41
I’m on the road for work often, and sometimes I stay in a hotel and, at the elevator, notice the braille by the doors. Each time I wonder what it would be like to be blind, trying to find the elevator door and that little braille sign. In a sighted society, I suspect being blind can sometimes be a challenge.
However, there are many kinds of blindness that create a lack of clarity and cause us to stumble. Obviously, physical blindness does not come from sin. But maybe some of our daily social blindness does. How often do we pass judgment on someone because of how they look? How often do we see people in need and ignore them? How often do we hold back affection when a hug could make a huge difference in someone’s life? How often do we pretend to be listening when, in fact, we aren’t?
St. Paul says we are children of light. Maybe we are children of light when we walk the WAY – and that WAY is Christ. It is following Christ that “produces every kind of goodness, righteousness and truth.” The invitation is to open our eyes, depart from the darkness of our selfishness, and let Christ be our light.
When we are in a loving relationship with Christ, who is the light of the world, our eyes are open, and we can see. In that light, we live the beatitudes. And we help feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit those imprisoned when we live in the light of Christ. Love one another as I have loved you. Love God and love your neighbor as yourself. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. These things constitute living in the light.
Br. Michael Fehrenbach, FSC
Visitor for the Midwest District
Monday, March 16
John 4:43-54
This Gospel makes me look at my faith more honestly.
At the start of the passage, we hear that people welcome Jesus because they have seen what He can do. They believe because of the signs. If I may be honest, that’s how my faith often works, too. When things are going well, when prayers get answered, when I can point to the results, faith comes easier.
But when the people I love most are struggling, belief feels different.
The royal official comes to Jesus as a desperate father. His son is near death. He does not ask for a teaching – he simply asks for his child’s life. I know that feeling of wanting to fix what I cannot control. As a father of five, as someone with great responsibility for others, I feel constant pressure to hold things together. When something feels unstable – health, relationships, finances – my instinct is to step in and solve it. And sometimes I just can’t.
Jesus does not go with him. He does not offer reassurance beyond a simple statement: “You may go; your son will live.” (John 4:50) No proof. Just a few words. So, the man leaves.
That is the part that challenges me most. Because leaving means surrender. It means walking away without certainty. It means trusting that God is already working even though nothing has changed yet.
There have been times in my life where I’ve had to keep moving forward while quietly carrying fear – praying silently, hoping I had not missed something, trusting that God truly was handling what I could not.
Somewhere along the road home, the father’s faith deepened before he even received confirmation of the miracle.
Maybe that is what Lent is for me this year: learning to place what I love most in God’s hands. Accepting that I am not in control – and that I was never meant to be.
John Pucciarelli
Class of 2025
Master of Business Administration
Tuesday, March 17
John 5:1-16
We heard on Sunday the story of Jesus healing a blind man who afterwards went and testified to the Pharisees in the temple. In their spiritual blindness, the Pharisees were unwilling to see that Jesus was truly the Son of God, instead choosing to condemn him based on his performing this miracle on the sabbath. Jesus did not conform to their expectations of the Messiah because he obeyed the spirit of the law (glorifying God on the sabbath) instead of the letter of the law (literally resting). Today, we encounter a similar Gospel passage. Jesus heals a paralyzed man on the sabbath and the Pharisees cannot see past their rules, even with such miracles.
It would be almost comical if we weren’t supposed to see ourselves in the Pharisees. When are we so spiritually blind that we cannot comprehend that the Son of God is right in front of us? When are we so spiritually paralyzed in our routine that we cannot move forward with Jesus?
As we draw closer to the passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord – may this season of Lent be a time of radical upending. May we come out on the other side of Easter as transformed people, healed of our blindness and paralysis.
Anonymous Buc
Wednesday, March 18
Isaiah 49: 8-15
Our world is broken, war-torn, and full to the brim with hurt. It is easy to say, “The world has forgotten God, and THAT is why this all is happening.” But God is hope, even when we have forgotten how to hope. We are Easter people in a Lenten world. A Christian is not merely someone who believes in Jesus, but someone who has let the hope of Christ permeate every part of their being. We cannot but hope in the face of evil.
We hope for justice when others revel in retribution.
We hope for equity and equality in the face of systemic and outright oppression.
We hope for nonviolent peace when war efforts become “righteous.”
We hope for humility and solidarity when division splits us between “us” and “them.”
We hope that we may not blindly hope, but that we might have the courage to get our hands dirty and cultivate the garden to bear such fruit.
And when the world gets too busy, and the wind-whips burn our necks – when we have forgotten God’s love for us, even momentarily – may we be consoled. May we hear God’s voice say, “Even if you should forget, I will never forget you.”
Anonymous Buc
Thursday, March 19 (Solemnity of Saint Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary)
Matthew 1:18–24
On March 19, the Catholic Church celebrates Saint Joseph — a man who never speaks in Scripture, yet whose quiet courage changed the course of history. In the Gospel of Matthew (1:18–24), Joseph’s life is suddenly upended. His plans collapse. His future becomes uncertain. And in the middle of confusion and disappointment, he listens for God — and acts.
That alone makes him deeply relatable.
Most students have plans: majors, internships, relationships, graduate school, careers. Yet at some point, something shifts. A door closes. A relationship ends. A calling feels unclear. Joseph reminds us that holiness is not about having a perfectly mapped-out future. It is about responding faithfully when the map changes.
Notice what Joseph does not do: he does not panic publicly, lash out, or withdraw. He reflects. He discerns. And when he understands what love requires, “he did as the angel commanded.” He steps into responsibility. Not because it is easy — but because it is right.
Joseph shows us that strength is often quiet. Leadership is often hidden. And vocation is less about status and more about who we are willing to care for and protect.
In a culture that rewards visibility, Joseph teaches us the power of faithful obscurity. In a world anxious about the future, he models steady trust.
As we move through this Lenten season, let’s ask:
Where is my plan being rewritten?
What responsibility is love asking me to accept?
What would it look like to act with courage, even without full clarity?
Joseph’s life suggests that greatness is not loud. It is faithful.
Br. Pat Conway, FSC
Director, Lasallian Institute for the Formation of Teachers (LIFT)
Director, McLaughlin Social Justice Institute (MSJI)
Friday, March 20
Psalm 34:17-18, 19-20, 21, and 23
The beauty of our humanity is that, regardless of who we are or where we come from, there are certain experiences we all share. Being brokenhearted, unfortunately, is one of those experiences. It doesn’t matter if it is brought on due to tragedy or the loss of a relationship or the loss of a loved one; we all have felt brokenhearted at one point in our life or another. That reality and the fact that I am even focusing on it for this reflection is somewhat despairing. However, we are reminded again in today’s Psalm, that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted. The Lord does not leave us alone in that space; actually quite the opposite. Our Psalm tells us all the actions the Lord does to make sure He is with us in our moment of hardship and struggle. If you read the Psalm again, you’ll see that the Lord hears us. The Lord rescues us. The Lord delivers us. The Lord watches over us. The Lord redeems us. Those are some powerful verbs. How powerful it is when someone who cares about us tells us that they hear us, especially when we are in such a fragile state. How much more comforting is it to know that our God, hears us. This Lent you might experience something in your life that breaks your heart. I pray that you don’t, but heartbreak is something we all run into from time to time. If that happens, don’t despair. Take comfort in knowing that God is with you then and always. And that is the beauty of our God, we are in His holy presence no matter where we go or what we do.
Joey Preston, Ed.D
Saturday, March 21
John 7:40-53
I remember telling my mother that I wanted to join the Brothers. She asked me, “I know I put you through a Brother’s high school, but who are they again?”
I thought about it and responded, “If you go to a Franciscan event, you’ll probably serve the poor or go out in nature. If you go to a Jesuit event, you might expect to hear a university seminar. If you go to a Christian Brother event, you’ll have a cocktail hour!”
And, it’s true! Everything we do as Brothers has a social element to it. My community has a social every day between community prayer and dinner; most Brother’s communities are similar. This is because we find God in the bonds of community, in togetherness. That doesn’t mean we all agree all the time, but we move forward together.
Increasingly, we are a society of individuals. We are each judge, jury, and executioner. The more we get to choose our community instead of wrestling with the imperfections (and imperfect people!), the more we retreat into our own concerns and self-reliance, and the more we worry about the “I” instead of the “US” – we become more and more isolated. But God constantly calls us to look up, see beyond ourselves, and move forward together.
Today’s Gospel features a crowd holding court on Jesus, but it is not a legal court (not yet!) – it’s the court of public opinion. This last line of this passage sticks out to me: “They each went to his own house.” I think about all the people at our university whose only community is the class they attend or the office in which they work. When the day is done, they return home, and the “CBU switch” is turned off. How would the crowd have responded differently if they each felt noticed, named, and known?
For all the struggles our campus community has seen in the last few years, we have been resilient (even if it has been an imperfect resilience). We are called to move forward together; else we fall apart separately. How can we continue to notice, name, and know our CBU community – from the workers in the cafeteria to the classmate in the back of the room? How can we continue to see God in the bonds between us and remember that we are in the holy presence of God?
Br. Danny Warwick
Campus Minister
Lenten Reflections: March 22 – March 28
Sunday, March 22
John 11: 1-45
In the experience of Jesus with Mary and Martha with their entombed brother Lazarus…we are privileged to witness for ourselves the reality of Jesus as a total human and at the same time, total God. We witness Jesus crying when He sees in death Lazarus, one of the siblings whom He loved deeply. We see Jesus for ourselves as one just like ourselves, a person who has friends whom He loves deeply. That’s a real human Jesus just like us. And in a few moments, we are privileged to witness Jesus Who is total God Who can, on the spot, command a human corpse to be enlivened. Jesus is God. Jesus is Man. We believe that fact and in the real event of Lazarus being dead and being raised from the dead before our eyes by Jesus…our faith in the humanity and divinity of Jesus is made strong. All the false teachings over the centuries of Jesus having only one nature are put into the former tomb of Lazarus. Thank You, Jesus, for showing this reality before our very eyes this holy day of Lent!
Jesus, true God and true Man, raise us all to new life this coming Easter. Thank You for helping to increase our Faith in You this day, true God and true Man. Amen!
Br. Joel McGraw, FSC
Director of CBHS Community
Monday, March 23
John 8: 1-11
At this point in Lent, I sometimes fall into the trap of being hard on myself because my Lenten promise has fallen by the wayside like a New Year’s gym membership. And with Easter rapidly approaching, it’s harder and harder to fight back the voices that say, “You failed this Lent, maybe next year.”
In today’s Gospel, we see the famous scene of Jesus drawing the literal line in the sand between a woman caught in adultery (often recognized as Mary Magdalene) and her “righteous” accusers trying to stone her to death. The accusers attempt to use Mosaic law to justify their actions, but Jesus flips the script. He puts himself in harm’s way and says, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” When the crowd has dissipated, he says to her, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”
Lent is a time of repentance, atonement, and healing from sin’s scars. But it is NOT a time of condemnation. A Lenten promise is not a New Year’s Resolution, and it’s this point in Lent that I always remember that. It is meant to be a sacrifice that draws our focus back to God instead of a self-improvement regimen.
We could be perfect people, sinless and righteous, but if our eyes are not set on God, then it’s all empty. I would rather be sinful, but striving for holiness with God, than those casting stones. If we follow the tradition that says that this woman in the Gospel is Mary Magdalene, then it is she who is one of the first to witness Jesus’ resurrection.
In a world of the “righteous,” maybe we should be more like Mary Magdalene
Anonymous Buc
Tuesday, March 24
Psalm 102:2-3, 16-18, 19-21
I was recently in the dumps and could not figure out why. Perhaps my sadness reflected the intense cold in Memphis or the prolonged days of darkness common in winter. My usual way to shake off the doldrums is singing hymns loudly in my house; midway through a hymn, I find I am grinning again as I wander through the rooms. My audible praise re-centers me on delighting in the Lord Jesus.
I certainly grinned when going through parts of Psalm 102, the Responsorial Psalm in today’s selections. That psalmist and I clearly can relate. The psalmist also cried out loudly to the Lord for an unspecified request. That lament seems to have gone on for days. However, instead of singing, the psalmist offered another way to derail the dumps.
The psalmist started listing God’s attributes. It is a personal list that quite likely reflects the psalmist’s own journey and observations. This psalmist affirms that God does the following:
Listens to the destitute
Hears the prisoners’ groanings
Releases those doomed to die
Does not despise the prayers of the needy
Shares big plans to rebuild Zion
Has ongoing plans for upcoming generations
Because it is not an exhaustive list, it invites readers and hearers also to itemize ways God has answered prayer. Just as the psalmist modeled, we too can chronicle God’s individual manifestations of faithfulness to us in our lives. Journaling these is a wonderful and very practical discipline.
Sometimes when I ask the Lord about his blessings, I have to write speedily with abbreviations. Finding it hard to keep up with the multitude of his remembrances, I cry out, “Slow down, Lord!” During such encounters, I find I am grinning, grinning, grinning. Smiles, humor, and much joy have replaced the dumps. The Lord is faithful, abundantly so.
Dr. Robin Gallaher Branch
Adjunct Faculty, Department of Religion and Philosophy
Wednesday, March 25 (Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord)
Luke 1: 26-38
Yes, today is a break in our Lenten Penance. We celebrate the Solemnity of the Annunciation, in which Mary received from God’s messenger, the angel Gabriel, God’s invitation that she become the mother of Jesus, God’s Son.
To the left is a 1898 painting by the Black American painter, Henry Ossawa Tanner, entitled “The Annunciation.” Usually, over the centuries, artwork for the Annunciation shows Mary very serene and absorbed in prayer. Not in Tanner’s painting. Depicted as Middle Eastern, Mary sits in her bed with rumpled sheets. She looks thoughtful, perhaps baffled, as she stares at the angel portrayed in the far left of the painting, as white light.
“Behold, I am the servant of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” That’s Mary’s simple “yes.” There wasn’t a step-by-step map given to her on that Annunciation day. She lived out that “yes” the rest of her life, even when the pieces didn’t fit neatly in the puzzle of her life.
When I studied for three years at 650 East Parkway, the Blessed Mother Mary was a very important part of my formation and prayer. In fact, there is still on the campus a marble statue of Mary—at the covered walkway near the computer lab—donated by my grandmother.
Less than a month before my graduation, my best friend—John Sandridge—was killed in an automobile accident. Abruptly, my world became shattered. I was baffled and stared at death. Indeed, the pieces of life’s puzzle didn’t fit together. Every April 22nd, I go to John’s grave at the cemetery. I talk the past year over with John. The visit puts life in perspective. And yet. The pieces of the puzzle still don’t all fit together. I vividly remember, however, that at the wake on the night before the Funeral Mass, our childhood pastor gave John’s mother a small statue of Michelangelo’s “Pieta.” It depicts exquisitely Mary holding the lifeless body of her son, the crucified Jesus, just having been taken down from the cross.
John’s mother clutched that small statue of the Pieta. Amazing that I still remember that! Mary gave her “yes” at the foot of the cross, with the body of her dead Son in her embrace.
On this Feast of the Annunciation, I pray that I’ll keep on giving my “yes,” even when the sheets of my life are rumpled, and I feel baffled. You see, I trust Mary is praying for me…and all of us.
Msgr. Val Handwerker, AFSC
Thursday, March 26
Genesis 17: 3-9; Psalm 105:4-5, 6-7, 8-9; John 8:51-59
During Lent, I’ve been trying to focus more on my relationship with God by praying more, taking time to reflect, and giving up a few small things. It’s been a reminder to slow down and think more about my faith. In this reading, God makes a covenant with Abram and even changes his name to Abraham, promising that he will become the father of many nations. What really stands out to me is that Abraham trusted God even though he probably didn’t fully understand how those promises would come true. God asked him to stay faithful to the covenant, and that reminds me that faith isn’t just about believing in God, but also about staying committed to Him in the way we live every day. The Psalm repeats the line, “the Lord remembers his covenant forever,” which shows that God always keeps His promises. Even when people struggle or have doubts, God doesn’t forget about them. During Lent, that reminds me that God is patient with us and continues to guide us, even when we make mistakes. Lent gives us a chance to turn back to God and work on strengthening that relationship. In the Gospel, Jesus says that whoever keeps his word will never see death, and he even says, “Before Abraham came to be, I AM.” This shows how closely connected Jesus is to God and that his message leads to eternal life. But many people had a hard time believing him and even became angry. That makes me think about how sometimes it can be difficult to really listen to God or follow his word, especially when it challenges us or asks us to change. Thinking about my own experience during Lent, I see it as a time to open my heart more to God and try not to “harden” it, like the Gospel talks about. By praying more, reflecting, and making small sacrifices, I’m trying to grow in faith and trust in God the way Abraham did. Lent reminds me that faith is something we have to keep working on, and it’s a chance to work on my commitment to God in my own life.
Karina Esquivel
Psychology Student, Class of 2028
Friday, March 27
Jeremiah 20:10-13
Reading Jeremiah, understanding his story, meditating on his prophetic life, has helped me to know what God wants from me, what his will is for me. Yet when reading this, I am reminded no life is perfect, there will be obstacles, there will be barriers, there will be tests, there will be temptations, living the Christian life. There will be days where I believe God may not be hearing me, may not be hearing my prayers or intentions. There will be some days that I believe that my enemies have won, have overthrown me. Yet I ask myself, will I let that hinder my love for the Lord? Will I no longer love Jesus because I too am suffering?
In the First Reading, Responsorial Psalm, and the Gospel proclaimed on the very last Friday of Lent, before Good Friday, the overall theme is persecution and suffering, silence and betrayal. It is a setting reminder that our Lord will suffer in the hands of those who crucified him, he will suffer betrayal from loved ones. Of those who said “Hosanna in the Highest” and later said “Crucify Him.” Of those who believed in him and later fled from persecution and denied him. Of those who betrayed him, his love, his trust, who never believed he was the Messiah, the Son of God.
As the great St. Thomas Aquinas says, Divine Silence is a period of which we may be tested by God himself, not by him not responding to us, but allowing us to confide in him even more, pouring our trust into the Lord. The reading of Jeremiah ends with “the Lord is with me.” “My persecutors will stumble”; my enemies will fall. If we allow ourselves to trust and love the Lord, we fear nothing and no one, but the Lord himself. We believe, We love, We trust, in the Lord. I invite you to do the same, to represent the believers, not the deniers, the lovers, not the haters, the trusters, not the doubters, this upcoming Palm Sunday. God is always with us, holding our hand. Sometimes we’re the ones who let go.
Cesar Ruiz
S.O.A.P. Coordinator/Facilitator
Seminarian – Catholic Diocese of Memphis
CBU Class of 2027
Saturday, March 28
John 11: 45-56
Don’t Upset the Rome
Did you hear what happened to
Carthage a hundred years ago?
Salted earth, children enslaved, why
Risk it?
It’d be better to
Cut our losses, pay our taxes
Extinguish the candle before
Becoming brush fire
And there have been grumblings
Haven’t there?
That man (God?) Jesus causing
Trouble and not just him.
Those crowds don’t look good.
They have ideas that
Scare me…
For he has cast down the mighty from their thrones
And has lifted up the lowly.
Blessed are the meek
For they will inherit the earth
Rome won’t like that and I have
Too much land, slaves whose families
Depend on me. Your position in Temple
Is high. What if Rome blames you?
They say he has worked
Miracles but on Sabbath
And cast out demons
But from women
They say he is the Christ
But a man killed by Rome
Is no Messiah. He’ll bleed like the
Rest and be forgotten
We should appease the Beast:
Lock-up the homeless, craft their
Warheads, derange the immigrant –
Do whatever they ask
Just don’t upset Rome.
Br. Danny Warwick
Campus Minister
