The forty days of Lent have their origin in the preparation of the catechumens (“those being instructed”) for Baptism in the early church. Women and men touched by God’s grace found themselves deeply involved in, and committed to, a new way of life leading towards the waters of Baptism and from there to be nourished for life at the Lord’s Supper. For those of us who have already been to the fountain of Baptism, these forty days can provide a kind of annual retreat, a recollection of the meaning of our lives in the light of Christ.
The reflections below are meant to help guide you through the season of Lent so that it can be for you, as our prayer book calls it, a Holy Lent. May these reflections from our parishioners, in company with other Lenten resources you find in prayer, scripture, conversation and the variety of disciplines, guide you through a holy Lent and into a joyful Easter.
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Ash Wednesday, February 18, 2026
When I think about Lent, I think about the trust in God that Jesus demonstrated in the wilderness. Forty days with no food or drink. And then Jesus was taunted by Satan to turn stones to bread, to jump from the temple to see if God would save Him, and to worship Satan in exchange for complete worldly power. And Jesus said, “Fuhgeddaboudit.” His trust in God led Him to the next right action.
My trust in God is considerably more wobbly. And what about my trust in Jesus? I was baptized as a Christian as a baby and yet have always been more drawn to praying to God rather than Jesus. Thinking about Jesus made me uneasy— unlike me, He was Good. I had read lots about Jesus but didn’t feel that I knew Him.
In the past months I’ve been open to changing that. I am seeking to have a trusting relationship with Jesus as the center of my Christian faith in God. Over the course of this Lent, I hope I continue to get to know Jesus better. And I also pray that I would be willing to practice trusting Him to show me the next right action in the midst of the turmoil in our world.
– Debbie Buell
Friday, February 20, 2026
These days I’m thinking of hope— and trying to not feel hopeless. For me, hope is what keeps me grounded and focused in times of uncertainty and heaviness. When fear shows up, or when I notice flashes of anger or hatred that I don’t want to carry, hope pulls me back to center. Romans 15:13 names our God as the “God of hope,” meeting us right where things are messy and unpleasant, as much of life is just now. Hope isn’t naively pretending that everything is fine, because it’s not. I have to trust that God is at work within me, all of us, shaping peace and joy in our hearts. In Lent, hope can help us to breathe, refocus, and keep going— one faithful step at a time.
– Dolly Moon
Monday, February 23, 2026
During Lent, I think of James 4:7: “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” This is exactly what Jesus does in Matthew 4:1-11 when he is tempted by the devil. However, his submission is not passive. Jesus shows us that in order to submit properly to God and resist the devil’s temptations, we must use the Word of God as a weapon. Each time Satan tempts Jesus, he tries to manipulate him using the scriptures. Jesus, in turn, throws scripture right back at Satan until he is left alone.
– Henry Solmo-Brewer
Wednesday, February 25, 2026
“Oh, how good and pleasant it is, when brethren live together in unity!”
So Psalm 133 tells us, we are so separated by hatred and disagreement. We cannot be together unless we understand better why we are so far apart. Can we stop shouting at each other and start listening, and then try to see if we can work out common solutions to our problems? Hatred, contempt, and violence only deepen division. Talking with those we disagree with can defuse tension. We need to keep pulling together for the values we share. God tells us we need each other!
– Craig Whitney
Read more of Craig’s writing on his website.
Friday, February 27, 2026:
Feast Day in Commemoration of the Pastor and Poet George Herbert
Today we celebrate and think about the life of George Herbert (1593-1633).
Raised by his widowed mother (along with nine siblings), he reached the highest rank of intellectual and public life, at Cambridge and in the court of King James I. Then he took holy orders and spent the rest of his short life ministering to his parishioners, worshipping twice a day, and writing poetry.
Certain of his poems today are sung as hymns, notably, “Let All the World in Every Corner Sing” and “King of Glory, King of Peace.” In some of his poems the layout suggests the theme, such as Easter Wings (at right).
The hymn tunes we know are from the 20th century, and so his words lose a little of the 17th century directness and piety. George Herbert knew how to talk to God.
– Patricia Kavanagh
Monday, March 2, 2026: St. Francis and Passion
Francis of Assisi was a passionate sensual partygoer, then a passionate prayerful ascetic Saint. He was known for his extremes of emotion and passion. He is an example of how God can take our negative qualities and transform them into good.
Perhaps when we struggle with our problems and faults, we can offer them to God to transform them into something that will make us better people and builders of his Kingdom. Yet we must understand that transformation often comes through pain, through being broken. The butterfly must crack and crush its hard chrysalis, become soft and exposed, to emerge in its beauty.
Francis’s meditations on the suffering and passion of Christ evoked such passion in him that he experienced the stigmata— the wounds, pains, and passion of Jesus Christ. Francis was broken by Love. We pray for the courage to truly love God and our fellow humans despite the risks. Do we truly Love— or only when it’s safe and satisfying? Dear God, take our hypocrisy and complacency and transform us into true Lovers.
– Jacqui Taylor Basker
Wednesday, March 4, 2026
1 Corinthians 7:32 “I want you to be free from anxieties.”
There’s always a bit of tension between “leave it in God’s hands” and “take up your cross and follow me.” Being a follower of Jesus means balancing trust with action—resting in God’s care while also stepping forward to make things better. Some people feel called to march, protest, or protect the vulnerable, and that’s a beautiful expression of faith. But we also live out our faith by holding onto hope, trusting that God often works through ordinary struggles and quiet perseverance just as much as through big victories.
What helps least—and feels least Christian—is giving in to worry and despair. The Cross isn’t the end of the story. Redemption keeps unfolding in our lives, day after day. Our task is to honor God in creation, in history, and in the people around us—even the difficult ones. With the Spirit of Love alongside us, we can meet each day with a lighter heart, a little more hope, and even a smile through the tears.
– Linda Wexelblatt
Friday, March 6, 2026
My journey of taking care of Mom opened my eyes to see the work of God in our helpers. Mom started to need daily support on Christmas Eve, 2019, so we built her a nursing home at home. I had just returned from the non-profit Mayo Clinic in Minnesota where I was healed using the collaborative group approach of pioneering physician W.W. Mayo. In turn, the care team that we brought to Mom meant that no one person had to solve every complex problem related to aging. Mom rested and we knew that she was comforted by the training and prayers of her helpers. I can see God’s work every day now.
– San Tang
Monday, March 9, 2026: Journey
One icy day, my usual walk through Brooklyn Bridge Park was blocked. The Squibb Park Bridge was closed and my sneakers couldn’t manage the slush on the Promenade. As a final disappointment, there were no cats in the window at the Cat Cafe!
Yet the walk accomplished its purpose. The air and exercise had quickened my mind. With thoughts to process, ideas to put into words, I was ready to write.
Some days our routines are disrupted; the expected pleasures don’t materialize. Still, we get where we’re going.
Sometimes life’s journey is about the destination.
– Ann Herendeen
Read more of Ann’s writing on her website.
Wednesday, March 11, 2026: Cup O’ Joe? Cup of Grace!
The collection of mismatched coffee mugs in our kitchen cupboard is decorated with photos, company logos, and varied patterns—for everyday use.
My “Sunday” mug is dark blue with a white design celebrating the 175th anniversary of Grace Church Brooklyn Heights. Seeing the artwork of our church while drinking from this one helps keep me in a peaceful mindset as I consider how I will get from one Sunday to the next—by the grace of God.
Is my “Sunday” mug only symbolic? Recently, and more often, this one has become a weekday choice. It might be in my hand on a Tuesday morning or a Wednesday afternoon. This is my Cup of Grace sustaining and empowering me through the frequent chaos du jour.
– Karen Loew
Friday, March 13, 2026
“Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?'” (Acts 2:5-12)
It’s odd perhaps to think about Pentecost during Lent, but this passage always sits with me. What does it mean for us to hear each other in our own native language? For one, it means there are those ideas, those “deeds of power” that don’t require translation. You know those deeds when you see them. For another, it reminds me to believe that it’s possible (which is hard right now!): that there are moments where we can hear each other each in our own language, if we trust the Spirit to be amongst us. And in this season of Lent, it reminds me to ask myself—what does this season mean to me in my own language? How might I live that faithfully and with seriousness? And if I do, can I choose to believe that it might, on its own, speak to someone else in their own tongue?
– Nicholas Ma
Tuesday, March 17, 2026
When I was young, I dreaded Lent as I always gave up the love of my life—chocolate—and the waiting six weeks for that Easter Bunny was terribly inconvenient.
As I’ve matured (in both years and faith), I’ve grown to appreciate the beauty of Lent. Yes, I’ll still be giving up something (social media? Amazon?). This helps me to remember Lent on a daily basis. However, over the years, I’ve really embraced Lenten meditations and prayer.
Several years ago, I found this prayer for St Patrick’s Day:
May the Strength of God pilot us,
May the Power of God preserve us,
May the Wisdom of God instruct us,
May the Hand of God protect us,
May the Way of God direct us,
May the Shield of God defend us,
And may the Host of God guard us against the snares of the evil ones and the temptations of the world. Amen.
-Theresa Seabaugh
Wednesday, March 18, 2026
Two of my Lenten disciplines: Keep it simple. Surrender.
By “keep it simple,” I mean unclutter my mind of excessively distracting thoughts and needless anxiety and try to be present in the moment, recognizing each moment as a gift from God. Also, unclutter my mind of excessive theological analysis. (Not that there’s anything wrong with wrestling with Biblical texts!)
During Lent, I stand before the Cross in surrender; quietly receive the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist; say prayers of gratitude; and simply allow God to work through me.
Save the complexities for another season!
– Geoff Brewer
Friday, March 20, 2026
Romans 12 is Paul’s how-to guide for the Christian life. A Lenten practice for me is to read and pray with it every morning.
This chapter of Romans celebrates the value and variety of our spiritual “gifts that differ according to the grace given to us.” It invites us to “extend hospitality to strangers” and “rejoice in hope.” It tells us not to pursue vengeance (“‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay’, says the Lord”).
And most important of all to me in this current era, it directs us not to be overcome by evil but to overcome evil with good. What might I do today to contribute to the collective power of good?
– Anne Silver
Monday, March 23, 2026
Image: “The Waiting Hours” by Louise Bourgeois, 2007
I have always been drawn to Advent. I love the anticipation, the preparation, the meditation on the miracle to come, the warmth in the snow. Waiting for the birth of a child is something that most of us have experienced in our lives. The impending joy of a new baby is not abstract.
The waiting in Lent is different. The Easter at its conclusion is something that none of us have witnessed in a bodily way. We do know death, but we know it by its permanence. We know rebirth only in the story of Christ, and in the faith that his resurrection will be extended to us. The waiting in Lent invites us to place our pain and uncertainty in the context of a narrative that does not end with our experience. It is harder, for me.
I think about Mary Magdalene visiting Jesus’s tomb. She has come looking for Jesus, and upon seeing him, takes him for the gardener. The story of birth and death has been disrupted, extended, rewritten, and she cannot yet see this though she looks it in the eye. This moment resonates for me. In it I feel the limitations of experience, the challenge of acceptance, and the vulnerability of unknowing, and I hope dearly that the sorrow of our world may give way to joy.
– Jane Nelson
Wednesday, March 25, 2026: The Annunciation
“Then Mary said, ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.’ Then the angel departed from her.” – Luke 1:38
The painting is The Annunciation (1898) by Henry Ossawa Tanner (1859-1937), son of an African Methodist Episcopal clergyman in Pittsburgh. He was the first Black American artist to have a painting shown in the Paris Salon. His depiction of the scene is a radical departure from earlier versions. Medieval, Renaissance, Baroque, and Neoclassical paintings showed the angel Gabriel as an anthropomorphic figure with wings, and Mary as an elegantly dressed, fair skinned woman. Tanner made Gabriel a disembodied, shimmering shaft of light and Mary a black haired, tan-skinned young woman huddled in her bedclothes, wearing a quizzical expression that seems to say, “Why me, Lord?” She answers that question in the quotation from Luke above.
So it is with all of us, no matter our gender, race, or status. We are all given the call to be servants of the Lord.
– Claude Scales
Friday, March 27, 2026: Paschal Mystery
In Catholic school, when the nuns were asked a hard religious question, they would often respond: “It’s a mystery!”
At the time, I thought they were being evasive. As I grow older, despite years of study with Education for Ministry, I often find myself coming to the same conclusion: “It’s a mystery!”
I looked up Paschal Mystery in the Episcopal dictionary. Paschal refers to the events surrounding Easter and “the word ‘mystery’ means a transcendent purpose of God which exceeds human understanding, but we have some knowledge and experience of it.”
Fortunately, we can find references to Resurrection in nature: the return of light and the emergence of Spring flowers and leaves. It is enough.
– Kathy Page