Turning points

Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on the First Sunday of Lent + Sunday, February 22, 2026

We’re at a turning point. And everything is different. 

One of the things I love about the liturgical year—is though many of us have experienced Lent many times—and heard the account of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness on the first Sunday of each Lent--everything is different this year. In our country. In the news. At Holy Trinity. And in your own lives. Yet this time around . . . this time through Lent . . . there is new grace . . . new wisdom for us.

Lent is 40 days.  It is no coincidence that Jesus is in the desert 40 days. In the scriptural imagination, 40 means “for a long time.” Noah and his family 40 days in the ark. Moses and the Israelites wandering in the wilderness for 40 years. Jesus’ ascension 40 days after the resurrection. The number 40 gets our attention. It is a turning point. Not just getting to the end of something. But something to live through, to experience. A pilgrimage of sorts. So goes the wise saying, “the journey is the destination.”

Jesus’ baptism is a turning point for him. A voice from heaven declared him God’s beloved. Everything is different. He has a new calling. Whether he feels raring to go or is overcome by second thoughts, the Spirit leads him into the wilderness. Mark says the Spirit drove him into the wilderness. And there, while fasting and praying, Jesus faces deep temptations that call into question his God-given identity.

At turning points in our lives, we too may hear a voice in our head, perhaps the tempter. Where will be put our trust? The tempter uses fear. You don’t have enough. You are not secure. You’re not in control. So save yourself! Prove yourself! Rule the world! Rely on yourself. Trust no one.

Jesus reveals the opposite of fear. Courage. Faith. Trust. When things fall apart, we are invited to trust something—Someone—beyond our limitations. Beyond our self-centeredness. Beyond our fear.

Lent is a turning point. What seems like an ending—ashes—is the invitation to something new. And transformation is not instantaneous. It takes a long time. The litany sung in procession around the church earlier in this liturgy represents this slow pilgrimage.

Malachai is at a turning point. Today he will be enrolled as a candidate for baptism at the Easter Vigil. This spiritual preparation takes time. In the early church the catechumenate lasted for three years. Three, another holy number. We will journey with Malachai—for this turning point isn’t only life-changing for him. It is a gift for our community. As we journey with him our hearts expand and we grow in faith and trust. As we turn to Christ as the source of healing, hope, and resurrection.

Lent means “lengthening of days.” As the earth is turning—tilting—toward the sun, spring is weeks away. Even with a dusting of snow on the ground. Lent is a turning point. We return to the Lord with all our heart. It is after 40 days in the wilderness that Jesus’ public ministry will begin. And he will turn his face to Jerusalem, the place where he will give his life.

Before there was a church year, there was only an all-night Easter Vigil. Then came the Three Days. Then came Lent. There is no Lent without Easter.

Our book for Lent this year is How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith. The author is Mariann Budde, the bishop of Washington DC, known for her challenging inauguration sermon in which she pleaded with the president to have mercy on those most vulnerable.

The first chapter is called “Deciding to Go.” Budde reminds us that whether it is for the first time, or the hundredth time, in choosing to go, we know that our lives matter. We have all had key moments of transition in our lives that called forth brave courage. As she writes, “When we go in fear, we are given the courage to do what we think we cannot do. When we go in excitement, it’s as if we have been preparing our lives for this moment.” Yet the cost of going is high. We will never be the same. (p. 19)

It is not lost on me that we are discussing the chapter “Deciding to Go” at the very time I have announced my resignation. My decision to conclude my ministry at Holy Trinity later this year took a long time and is heart wrenching. I knew it had to come sometime. It is a turning point filled with more emotion than words can say.

I know that we need more than 40 days to process all of this. Our feelings. Our questions. Getting ready for what is next. These next seven months give us a time to grieve and celebrate. To let go and to dream. To process and to plan.

It will take time and it cannot be rushed. One book about pastoral transitions tells the story of three children who walked each day to school. They had two possible routes. They could take the road, but it was longer and took them out of the way. They could take a shortcut through a field, but it was filled with thistles. In the summer they didn’t wear shoes to school. Some days they were hot and hungry and so they ran and hopped quickly through the thistle patch—yelping in pain the entire way. When they arrived home, they would remove the thistles and count how many they each had.

The lesson: running full speed through this transition—or through any of life’s turning points to avoid the pain—has a price to pay. The prickly briars are the powerful emotions we have not dealt with. The journey before us may seem out of the way. We may think we should move on. Yet there is much spiritual and emotional work for us to do this Lent—and in the months to come.

Perhaps we are never more alive than at turning points. Amid our need, our fears, our vulnerability, we turn to God. And then Love turns to us. And grace fills us.

God, the Divine Lover, meets on the road. Assures us that we are beloved. Holds us close when our hearts are breaking. Gives us the gift of community. Feeds us at this table. And gently reminds of the promise of spring. That Easter is coming. Amen.

SOURCES

Journey with Jesus, “On the Mount of Temptation: First Sunday in Lent.” Amy Frykholm, 15 February 2026.

Trust: Salt Commentary for Lent I, February 17, 2026

Working Preacher, Lent 1, David Lose. March 13, 2011.

Roy Oswald, Running through the Thistles: Terminating a Ministerial Relationship within a Parish, 1978.