1st Sunday of Lent, 2026

First of all, whenever you begin a good work, beseech him, most pressingly, to bring it to completion. (RB Prologue 4 – Laurentia Johns OSB translation)

After Mass on this bright, slightly damp spring morning, I felt drawn to walk. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of early flowers — aconites, crocuses, daffodils and snowdrops — their quiet beauty a welcome gift after weeks of rain. It was a simple but profound “I am glad to be here” moment.

Returning home, my thoughts turned to the Gospel leading us into the desert with Jesus. As our Parish Priest reminded us, the desert may seem harsh, yet in Scripture it is also a place of encounter. I know I need this desert time — time set apart and entrusted to me.

This year I am journeying with Easter in Disguise by Sr. Liz Dodd. Reflecting on Jesus’ temptations, she notes that the Tempter offered abundance, security and authority — if only Jesus would separate himself from humanity. Instead, Jesus chose solidarity with the poor and powerless. That insight alone could shape my whole Lent. It challenges me beyond my comfort zone, yet promises growth.

I hope this season will lead me to a deeper and more personal place — bringing into God’s healing light those things long hidden, though never forgotten.

I am also praying The Stations of Mercy with Pope Francis. At the Sixth Station we are reminded of God’s patient mercy — that he waits for us and never tires of forgiving. Like the gardener who tends the barren fig tree (Luke 13:5–9), Jesus does not give up on us. He does not give up on me.

Our Parish Priest once asked, “What must we do to make things different? The answer is simple: we must do something different.”

For me, that “something different” was making my Final Oblation with the World Community for Christian Meditation. As Fr. Laurence Freeman reminded us, it was a beginning, not an end. Though my daily discipline of prayer and meditation sometimes falters, I am sustained by the loving community to which I belong.

The photograph I took of a cobweb has become a metaphor for that community — many strands meeting at a single centre: beautiful, fragile, yet resilient. Some strands strong, others less so, yet all held together as one.

As Judith Sutera writes, humility begins with the realisation that God is God, and we are not.

And so this Lent, I begin again — grateful for the desert, for community, and for the patient mercy of God.

Eileen Dutt
WCCM Oblate Community

This reflection of Eileen’s is a gift to me, an oblate, who has been given the mentorship of this wise sister in our WCCM oblate community. Eileen has walked alongside me as I have taken up the mantle of loving service. When brothers and sisters work and walk alongside one another, they experience Benedictine community life, lived fully and joyfully. Each day begins with thanksgiving and with deep gratitude for each member of our Benedictine community. With the extraordinary developments in technology, we can be present to our brothers and sisters across the world, sharing our times of prayer, Lectio and meditation. So as I write this, I am connected in so many ways, but under the same sky as Eileen, seeing this world as the gift of life. And together we thank God and share this Lenten time. So today, I will walk in the sun and I will feel the warmth of a shared Sun and the warmth of our loving community.

Janet Robbins
UK National Coordinator WCCM