I was reading this Gospel, and after the experience we had in Montserrat at Life Team, something kept coming to mind: the Pharisees.

The Pharisees are the ones we usually think of as proud, arrogant—hypocritical. But the real issue is simpler and deeper: they live two lives. What they say, and what they do.

And honestly, the people most exposed to that risk can be us—people in mission—because we often have a “mission world” and a “personal world.” It’s a bit like what Paul and Joe were talking about when they were here.

I love going on these weekends like the one with LifeTeen in Montserrat. They pull me out of “normal life,” and they test me. They make me ask: How is my prayer? How is my service to others? What is my attitude? Even my tiredness level—because it is different. If I had to do something like that all the time, I don’t think I have that kind of social battery.

So it becomes very concrete: Did I set boundaries so I could pray? Did I set boundaries so I could stay healthy? Did I give myself enough space to be present—to receive—so I’m not just running on adrenaline?

This time I noticed I need to be more intentional—actually setting a personal schedule. There’s so much going on constantly that if I’m not specific about what I want to do, who I want to talk to, or when I want time for Jesus, I just get swallowed up.

For me, even something like using the Monk Manual becomes more important, not less, in a weekend like that. I need to decide how I’m going to live it. Otherwise I fall into one of two extremes: I either get dragged along by whatever is happening, or I disappear into “my own thing” and don’t really engage. Neither is freedom. Freedom is intentional engagement, with real boundaries.

And then there’s the other side: I love coming back.

Because coming back is also a measure. There’s something easier, sometimes, about serving when you’re serving with other people. But when I come back and it’s the same faces in the hallway, the same people in the dining room, the same rhythms—then the question sharpens: do I serve my own community with the same heart?

For example: when I’m at a table with only missionaries, what is my attitude? Is it the same desire to serve as when I’m with everyone—when I’m with the lay people—or like today at lunch? Is it easier? Is it colder? Is it selective?

The circumstances are different. But the heart is the heart.

And it’s easy to slip into a mindset like: “I have my job, I do it. They can handle themselves. I’ll go do my own thing.” I don’t mean that cruelly. I mean it honestly. It’s what happens when service is no longer carried by the moment, and I have to choose it.

That’s why Lent matters.

Not so we can say, “I’m a Pharisee, I’m a disaster.” Lent is about integration. It forces the question: am I one person, or two?

Jesus didn’t have to take care of anyone—and he chose to. He didn’t stay comfortable. He intentionally served. Paul’s example of washing feet isn’t sentimental. It’s the logic of the Gospel.

So when we talk about “being” and “doing,” I don’t think the goal is to separate them. The goal is depth—being and doing with truth in every moment.

I remember a retreat I did in Spain, alone, in one of those tiny hermit huts. It felt like being locked into a box. Eight or nine full days. And the temptation was loud: I could be out preaching to the world. I could be in Cleveland, in Barcelona—anywhere but here.

But the Lord taught me something there: the place I’m in right now has enough depth to make me holy. The moment in front of me has enough weight to change everything.

Look at Jesus. Look at Mary. They didn’t need constant movement to bear fruit. We may be sent out—and I hope we are—but holiness doesn’t depend on novelty. It depends on love.

And that’s what makes community hard sometimes: the repetition, the sameness, the familiar faces. But that is exactly where the Lord can make us whole. We don’t need “more.” We need depth.

So as we go into Lent, let’s ask him for that grace: to be integrated—to meet him in a new and deeper way, and to love the people in front of us with a new and deeper heart.

Depth is available anywhere. Prayer is possible anywhere. Love is demanded anywhere.

I don’t need to search for someone far away to serve. There are enough people around me already.

Lord, give us the grace to live as one. To love with integrity. And to experience your love in that light.