February 22, 2026

Lent-Encounters with Jesus, Part One

By Fr. Michael Plekon


We have passed Ash Wednesday and are on our way through the season of Lent, heading toward holy week and Easter. Lent is many things, a time for doing good things, thinking the good thoughts God thinks, of forgiveness, sharing, love. It is also a school and this year we will be learning from a series of encounters Jesus has with individuals, all recorded in the gospel of John. Each of these is an intense meeting and exchange from which we have much to learn. We will look at three of these here and the rest in another article.


First, Jesus confronts the Evil One, Satan, the devil. Well, of course, we would think that Jesus has to take on the public enemy number one! What is important to note is that the Evil One comes looking for Jesus, not the other way round. Isn’t that the case for us too? When we least expect it, there is the pull toward lashing out, wanting to hurt another, wanting to take care only of ourselves, perhaps even hoping to destroy someone we detest. Jesus is confronted with three temptations—turn stones into bread, throw yourself off the temple roof and hope the angels will save you, and finally, bow down to the Evil One and admit evil is stronger than good. Jesus says no to all of these. He’s not a magician, hoping to attract followers with his miracles. So stones are not turned into bread nor is there an effort to fly off the temple. And Jesus knows evil is no match for what is good, kindness trumps hate, we care for the stranger and those in need. We don’t just love our own little world of family and friends. Doing what is good, what God does, is a miracle, and we give others a new hope and life in this. By the way, the account of Jesus’ encounter with the Evil One is from Matthew’s gospel, from which we will hear all the rest of this year, later on.

The second encounter is from John’s gospel. It describes when a leading member of the Temple clergy comes to visit Jesus, under the cover of darkness. This was for fear of what his colleagues might think, so there’s some cowardly behavior here on the part of a religious leader, a teacher, who should be able to show greater integrity. No problem on Jesus’ part. Nicodemus is welcomed. For someone with great learning. Nicodemus seems at first clueless at to what Jesus tells him in response to his questions. He should know better that the spirit blows where it wills, and that God certainly can be present in this teacher, Jesus, as God spoke through Elijah, Moses, Isaiah and the rest of the prophets. Whether Nicodemus was playing dumb or really could not get it, Jesus’ patience persists. In one of the most famous lines in the gospels, Jesus assures Nicodemus that God is all about love. God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, so that all would be drawn closer to God. God condemns no one—something many cannot accept even today.  Jesus emphasizes God’s abundant love to Nicodemus, with patience and compassion. There’s a lesson here, not only for Nicodemus but for ourselves.


A third encounter, again from John’s gospel, is the beautiful story of Jesus’ long conversation with the Samaritan woman from the village of Sychar. The Eastern Church preserved her name as Photini, the one who brings light to all around her. Tired out from travel on foot and preaching, Jesus finds himself at the town well in Sychar, one that went all the way back to the patriarch Jacob. He asks Photini for a drink. She’s come to fetch water for her household. She’s astonished that a rabbi, a teacher like Jesus, a Jew, has asked her for this as Jews despise Samaritans. 


The two of them drift into an amazing conversation, first not about water from Jacob’s well but the living water, which stands for God’s presence and love. Water is huge in a desert, don’t we know! The conversation turns to who is Photini’s husband—she has been married before. Jesus isn’t judging her. He respects her, allows her to be honest about herself and her life. His honesty meets hers. She sees the light.  She begs him for the living water, which she now knows is his teaching, his friendship.


They talk further and she hears that from now on the Spirit will be present everywhere, for all people. God has no favorites, only beloved children. And back into the town she runs, telling everyone that she’s met a teacher like no other, the Chosen one of God, the Messiah. She has become an apostle or messenger and her neighbors come to welcome Jesus. They ask him to stay and teach. They exclaim that after her bringing the news they too have come to see him as the Promised one.


What do we learn here? An honest, thoughtful woman risks talking to someone she likely fears, only to find great friendship and acceptance, love. Is there a lesson for us here? I think so.


The rest of our Lenten encounters will follow in Part two.

By Fr. David Madsen June 2, 2026
It’s been on my mind lately to not only prepare my heart and mind for Sunday morning worship but io carry that early morning tranquility into the preservice atmosphere of St. Barnabas. Every Sunday begins the same way for me: morning prayers with Naomi, followed by one of the quiet videos that helps us get settled into the day. The one example I will share with you today is just one way of practicing this use of time and space. My problem lately is getting to church and allowing all sorts of church business and problems to destroy the atmosphere. The distracted mind affects everything, worship, liturgy, sermon, Lords Table and Coffee hour. Our morning atmosphere sets the tone for the entire day. By intentionally bringing a peaceful temperament into our early hours, we create a sanctuary of restfulness, not just for ourselves, but for everyone we encounter. Reclaiming this quiet time beautifully prepares our hearts for worship. And sometimes we need to just drop in and see what condition our condition is in. Time to tune our hearts to be in tune with the Spirit. “God is Spirit and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). I will include one example of how I prepare my mind and spirit for Sunday morning worship. This is just one suggestion. You may have others to include. If so, please let me know. Try anchoring your morning with Gregorian chant. allow Illumination by Dan Gibson’s Solitudes blending historic Latin chants with calming sounds of God’s creation. While these chants carry rich scholastic history, my takeaway is pastoral, quieting my mind and turning my focus toward the divine. Here’s one option: This Sunday early morning light a candle, maybe a stick of incense, and let sacred sounds fill your home as you prepare for church. Arrive at St. Barnabas already tuned into God’s peace by opening the peaceful Gregorian Chants album on YouTube. Father Dave+
By Fr. David Madsen May 30, 2026
This collect has been one of my favorites for as long as I can remember. Cranmer’s cadence—hear, read, mark, learn, inwardly digest—has a way of settling into the bones. Every time I pray it, something in me wants to reach for a Bible and sit with the words again, not to master them but to let them work on me. “Blessed Lord, you caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” What I love about this collect is that it refuses to treat Scripture as an object to defend or a puzzle to solve. It points toward a way of life. The written word is a conduit, not a destination. It leads us toward the Living Word, toward Christ himself. We study the text—its languages, its history, its context—but we also read it for strength, for healing, for encouragement, for the quiet work of being changed from the inside out. Cramnerer wrote this in a moment when Scripture was being rediscovered in a fresh way during the English Reformation. You can feel that energy in the collect: Scripture not as a burden, but as a gift. Not as a rulebook, but as a companion. Not something to wield, but something to absorb.  Kierkegaard once said that the real challenge of Scripture is not understanding it but obeying it—letting it shape the liturgy of our lives. You haven’t really “grasped” Scripture, he said, until it becomes part of your patterns, your habits, your way of being in the world. That rings true. Reading is good. Absorbing is different. Absorbing takes time, silence, repetition, and a willingness to be changed. And strangely enough, this is where the Mamas and the Papas wander into the picture. Every time I think about stepping into a church for the first time—the way the air shifts, the way something in you recognizes the Presence before you can name it—I hear that line from “California Dreamin’”: “Stopped into a church I passed along the way.” There’s something about that moment in the song, that unexpected pause, that feels like the moment Scripture becomes real. You step inside, and something in you says, “Stay. This is where you belong.” I’ve seen that happen in churches I’ve served, including here in Borrego Springs. Someone walks in, sits down, and something settles in them. They know. They may not have the words for it, but they know. That’s what it feels like when Scripture moves from the page into the heart. When it becomes part of you. When you inwardly digest it. That’s why this collect matters to me. It’s not about information. It’s about formation. It’s about the slow, steady work of letting Scripture become home—like stepping into a church on a winter’s day and realizing you’re going to stay. California Dreamin’.
By Fr. David Madsen May 30, 2026
Since Pentecost, we live in the age of the Spirit. Christian spirituality is a journey with God—a hand-in-hand walk, not a checklist of beliefs carved on a tablet. What does that look like? Not dogma. Not gatekeeping. Not spiritual scorekeeping. I sometimes joke that I’m a contemplative or a mystic—maybe even “so spiritual I’m no earthly good.” But the truth is, throughout my ministry I’ve sensed a calling to help people grow in their awareness of knowing God and being known by God. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—the Three in One—drawing us into relationship. How many of you remember learning to drive? White-knuckled hands on the wheel, checking the mirrors every two seconds, praying you wouldn’t take out the trash cans on the way out of the driveway. And how many of you made a few mistakes? A curb jumped out at you. The mailbox leaned in a little too close. Maybe a parent in the passenger seat rediscovered their prayer life. But once you learn to drive, you don’t quit because of a rough day on the road. You get back in the car. Our spiritual life is like that. We drift. We overcorrect. We miss a turn. And the Spirit keeps whispering, “You’re still on the journey. Keep going.” Sometimes we say, “Not right now, God. Let me get my life together first. Come back when I’m more spiritual.” But God meets us exactly as we are—not defined by our past, not disqualified by our mistakes, not waiting for us to become perfect. The message you’ve heard from me before, and will hear again, is this: God loves you right now . Not the cleaned-up version of you. Not the future version of you. You, as you are. That’s what transformation means—being changed from the inside out as we come to know God more fully and allow God to know us. Our world and God’s world begin to weave together. Wow! This message is golden! Enjoy the summer months. We might even have some sun in our Borrego forecast. Blessings, Fr. Dave+
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By Fr. David Madsen June 2, 2026
It’s been on my mind lately to not only prepare my heart and mind for Sunday morning worship but io carry that early morning tranquility into the preservice atmosphere of St. Barnabas. Every Sunday begins the same way for me: morning prayers with Naomi, followed by one of the quiet videos that helps us get settled into the day. The one example I will share with you today is just one way of practicing this use of time and space. My problem lately is getting to church and allowing all sorts of church business and problems to destroy the atmosphere. The distracted mind affects everything, worship, liturgy, sermon, Lords Table and Coffee hour. Our morning atmosphere sets the tone for the entire day. By intentionally bringing a peaceful temperament into our early hours, we create a sanctuary of restfulness, not just for ourselves, but for everyone we encounter. Reclaiming this quiet time beautifully prepares our hearts for worship. And sometimes we need to just drop in and see what condition our condition is in. Time to tune our hearts to be in tune with the Spirit. “God is Spirit and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). I will include one example of how I prepare my mind and spirit for Sunday morning worship. This is just one suggestion. You may have others to include. If so, please let me know. Try anchoring your morning with Gregorian chant. allow Illumination by Dan Gibson’s Solitudes blending historic Latin chants with calming sounds of God’s creation. While these chants carry rich scholastic history, my takeaway is pastoral, quieting my mind and turning my focus toward the divine. Here’s one option: This Sunday early morning light a candle, maybe a stick of incense, and let sacred sounds fill your home as you prepare for church. Arrive at St. Barnabas already tuned into God’s peace by opening the peaceful Gregorian Chants album on YouTube. Father Dave+
By Fr. David Madsen May 30, 2026
This collect has been one of my favorites for as long as I can remember. Cranmer’s cadence—hear, read, mark, learn, inwardly digest—has a way of settling into the bones. Every time I pray it, something in me wants to reach for a Bible and sit with the words again, not to master them but to let them work on me. “Blessed Lord, you caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” What I love about this collect is that it refuses to treat Scripture as an object to defend or a puzzle to solve. It points toward a way of life. The written word is a conduit, not a destination. It leads us toward the Living Word, toward Christ himself. We study the text—its languages, its history, its context—but we also read it for strength, for healing, for encouragement, for the quiet work of being changed from the inside out. Cramnerer wrote this in a moment when Scripture was being rediscovered in a fresh way during the English Reformation. You can feel that energy in the collect: Scripture not as a burden, but as a gift. Not as a rulebook, but as a companion. Not something to wield, but something to absorb.  Kierkegaard once said that the real challenge of Scripture is not understanding it but obeying it—letting it shape the liturgy of our lives. You haven’t really “grasped” Scripture, he said, until it becomes part of your patterns, your habits, your way of being in the world. That rings true. Reading is good. Absorbing is different. Absorbing takes time, silence, repetition, and a willingness to be changed. And strangely enough, this is where the Mamas and the Papas wander into the picture. Every time I think about stepping into a church for the first time—the way the air shifts, the way something in you recognizes the Presence before you can name it—I hear that line from “California Dreamin’”: “Stopped into a church I passed along the way.” There’s something about that moment in the song, that unexpected pause, that feels like the moment Scripture becomes real. You step inside, and something in you says, “Stay. This is where you belong.” I’ve seen that happen in churches I’ve served, including here in Borrego Springs. Someone walks in, sits down, and something settles in them. They know. They may not have the words for it, but they know. That’s what it feels like when Scripture moves from the page into the heart. When it becomes part of you. When you inwardly digest it. That’s why this collect matters to me. It’s not about information. It’s about formation. It’s about the slow, steady work of letting Scripture become home—like stepping into a church on a winter’s day and realizing you’re going to stay. California Dreamin’.
By Fr. David Madsen May 30, 2026
Since Pentecost, we live in the age of the Spirit. Christian spirituality is a journey with God—a hand-in-hand walk, not a checklist of beliefs carved on a tablet. What does that look like? Not dogma. Not gatekeeping. Not spiritual scorekeeping. I sometimes joke that I’m a contemplative or a mystic—maybe even “so spiritual I’m no earthly good.” But the truth is, throughout my ministry I’ve sensed a calling to help people grow in their awareness of knowing God and being known by God. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—the Three in One—drawing us into relationship. How many of you remember learning to drive? White-knuckled hands on the wheel, checking the mirrors every two seconds, praying you wouldn’t take out the trash cans on the way out of the driveway. And how many of you made a few mistakes? A curb jumped out at you. The mailbox leaned in a little too close. Maybe a parent in the passenger seat rediscovered their prayer life. But once you learn to drive, you don’t quit because of a rough day on the road. You get back in the car. Our spiritual life is like that. We drift. We overcorrect. We miss a turn. And the Spirit keeps whispering, “You’re still on the journey. Keep going.” Sometimes we say, “Not right now, God. Let me get my life together first. Come back when I’m more spiritual.” But God meets us exactly as we are—not defined by our past, not disqualified by our mistakes, not waiting for us to become perfect. The message you’ve heard from me before, and will hear again, is this: God loves you right now . Not the cleaned-up version of you. Not the future version of you. You, as you are. That’s what transformation means—being changed from the inside out as we come to know God more fully and allow God to know us. Our world and God’s world begin to weave together. Wow! This message is golden! Enjoy the summer months. We might even have some sun in our Borrego forecast. Blessings, Fr. Dave+
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