Read: Matthew 4:1-11

“Then, Jesus was led into the desert by the Spirit to be tempted by the devil.” Matthew 4:1 (NAB)

I see a stop sign posted at the end of the first verse of this passage. Stop. Why would the Spirit lead Jesus into the desert to be tempted by the devil? Does the Spirit lead us into places of temptation?

I am struck by how Jesus was led away from community, into the desert, to be tempted by the devil. It makes me think there are times when it is advantageous to let the Spirit lead us into isolated places where we have the time and quiet to confront the temptations which have power in our lives. Perhaps, temptations at their core are personal and can only be heard in the quietness of an isolated place and can only be discerned individually.

How can the community care for each other when members are led into these isolated places for internal reflection and wrestling? The community of faith can recognize and support this work as a way of following Jesus and we can pray for each other, that we will be able to recognize the problematic promises so often rooted in temptations and be able to dismantle them as Jesus so acutely modeled for us.

Lord of all good leading, lead us not only into the light but also into the darkness that we might gain a more discriminating hearing of our inner voices. Amen.
-Sharon Weldon

Read: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
As a time of prayer, fasting, and giving alms, Lent is a special time of contemplation about our individual relationship with God. We also have an opportunity for a special time of this contemplation on the subject of community. Ponder your relationship in giving.  Is your financial giving where it should be?  Most importantly, does it reflect your relationship with Christ?  And does your volunteering for St. Paul’s needs reflect that relationship as well? Pray about both areas and listen for God’s leading.-Barb Cheyney

Read: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

“Be careful not to do your deeds of righteousness before (others) to be seen by them …”

Our focus this year is on community.

I was about eight or nine and a group of us kids decided to “do a circus.” I don’t remember what inspired such a concept, but the half dozen of us spent about ten minutes preparing our acts (which seemed like more than enough time). When we were ready to do our circus on the lawn in front of the Thompson house, a crowd of parents, aunts, and cousins had assembled, as if by magic. We had only just discussed the circus and, VOILA – we had an audience! I remember nothing else about the event (I think I did some pratfalls, cartwheels, and possibly a tumble or two), but I remember we had an audience. I was thrilled and scared at the same time. Thrilled to be seen, and scared I’d never be good enough.

Jesus invites us to take a minute or so, examine our lives, and ask the question: Who is your audience? He warns us to be careful. “What crowd are you playing to?” he asks. Bear in mind that crowds come and go; people have short memories, and we’re only as good as our last performance. But there is One who keeps watch, who never misses a show, who stands beside us both on stage and behind the scenes and in the privacy of our dressing rooms. That One says, “You are marvelous. You improve every day. I’m so proud of you. You make me smile.”

When we pray, give, or cut back, we do so as part of a sacred community, performing before God who claps, whistles, and yells, “In you I am well-pleased!”

Let us pray. God, you are with us. You never fail to hear our words or see our deeds. Thank you for being ever-present in our lives. Here at the start of Lent, help us live for you, the only audience that counts. Amen.
-Fr. Keith Axberg

Read: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

In Sunday’s Gospel reading Jesus assumes as normative the practice of giving alms; giving in support of relief for poor persons. Here he insists that it be done in secret. I’ve often thought of this when attending charity auction dinners – especially church-based ones – in which the biggest givers, giving in public, are given the biggest applause and recognition. Hmmmm, I think when I’m sitting there. It seems we’re ignoring Jesus’ teaching.

Now to prayer. I struggled long with wanting to pray until I realized somewhere along the line that God loved me without reserve and without stinting. Freedom in prayer – even the desire to pray – comes with accepting that prayer is “allowing God to love you.” I learned that phrase from Fr. Thomas Keating of blessed memory, who taught me how to sit quietly with receptivity.

Now to fasting. I’m reminded by my monthly talks with my barber that curbing an appetite that I indulge unthinkingly and impulsively is a good thing for health and well-being. He’s done that sort of thing with obvious results. He’s a happier, healthier person who practices disciplines that are no doubt lengthening his life and putting a ready smile on his face. He inspires me. I can curb my appetite in some way this Lent, and so can you.

Holy One, you enjoy our keeping company with you in quiet, you enjoy our learning to savor the good things you give us to enjoy, and you enjoy our sharing in your generous heart for those in need. Help me this Lent to grow in my desire to give you such joy. Amen.
-Fr. Jonathan Weldon