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Palm Sunday Reflection
Oblate James Holzhauer-Chuckas, ObSB, Executive Director Today we stand at the threshold of mystery. With palms in our hands and “Hosanna!” on our lips, we enter into one of the most paradoxical moments of our faith. We celebrate a king, but not one who comes with power, force, or dominance. Instead, Jesus Christ enters humbly, riding on a donkey, welcomed by the poor and the hopeful. Palm Sunday holds together two movements of the heart: joy and sorrow, praise and betrayal, hope and suffering. The crowd that cries out “Hosanna!” will soon echo with cries of “Crucify him!” And if we are honest, we recognize something of ourselves in that crowd. There are moments when we follow Christ with conviction, and moments when we turn away, choosing comfort, fear, or self-interest over love and truth. Yet, this is precisely where the grace of this day meets us. Palm Sunday is not just a remembrance, it is an invitation. An invitation to walk with Christ not only in the celebration, but also in the suffering. An invitation to examine our own discipleship:
As we listen to the Passion narrative, we are reminded that Jesus does not turn away from the cross. He embraces it, not because suffering is good, but because love is stronger than suffering. Love is willing to go all the way. And that is the heart of Holy Week. We are not meant to stand at a distance as observers. We are meant to enter in, to walk with Jesus through betrayal, denial, suffering, and ultimately, hope. Because the story does not end on the cross. But we cannot rush to Easter. Palm Sunday teaches us that authentic faith does not skip over pain, it transforms it. It invites us to trust that even in the moments of darkness, God is at work, bringing life out of death. So, as we hold our palms, let them be more than symbols. Let them be a commitment:
May this Holy Week be a time of deeper conversion, a time to walk more closely with Christ, to surrender more fully in love, and to believe more deeply in the promise that God is always making all things new. Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Fifth Sunday of Lent
Dr. Molly Cinnamon, Ed.D., Auxiliary Board Member for Belonging I believe I am going through a crisis of faith. I’ve heard this phrase over and over, and I’ve never really considered its meaning. When I asked AI to define it for me, it said, “A crisis of faith is an intense, painful period of doubt regarding one’s core religious or spiritual beliefs, often characterized by confusion, anger or feeling disconnected from God.” When I read those words, it scared me. Is this what I am feeling? It seems so serious and as if there is nothing I can do, like a fearful diagnosis of some kind. But then, I read on and saw these words: “It feels like a spiritual emergency, prompting a necessary choice to redefine, deepen or abandon faith.” My next thought was sweet relief. Oh, good - I have a choice and I can fix this. AI even gave me a list of options that I can choose from to help me, such as:
So, what did I do? I went to church with my mom. For a long time, my mom and I have been attending the early service on Sundays at the same episcopal church I grew up in and also where I got married. I haven’t gone in many weeks, mostly due to busyness and some laziness on my part. I love my mom dearly and treasure the time with her. We have very different understandings of the current state of our world and sitting in church with her sometimes feels disingenuous to me and additionally, hurts my heart as this is definitely a challenging time for our mother-daughter relationship. As I sat there next to her, I watched her. She is almost 82, walks with a cane and church is her home. She is on every committee, knits prayer shawls with her friends, organizes all of the funeral food for the bereavement committee, attends every class the church offers and still works part time. However, she can’t understand why my heart is broken by the state of our country and our world right now. The whole church can pray out loud for every intention but have coffee later in the adult forum and chat about things I will never comprehend. It feels like grief to me. During the service, I said out loud in my own head, “God, I need a sign that you are here and that you’ve got me.” I’m not exaggerating when I say that the stained-glass window directly to my right where I was looking when I said those words came ablaze with sunlight, so bright it almost hurt my eyes, before fading back to normal. It took my breath away. I felt tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. Astonished, and certain I had imagined it, I asked again. “Lord, is that you?” Once again, a strong, brilliant light came pouring through the window. I grabbed my phone and snapped a picture to remind me of this significant moment and when I pulled it up later to show my husband, it occurred to me that my mom’s beautiful profile was also in the picture, featuring her staring at the priest as he delivered his homily with this gentle smile on her face. Above the altar in our church, there is a solid beam with the words, “I am the resurrection and the life” painted in gold letters that I have looked at thousands of times but never really seen, if that makes sense. I said my wedding vows under that beam and became confirmed, my daughter also became confirmed in the same spot. When I went to read the Gospel for this particular Sunday in Lent for which I am writing this reflection, I was astonished to see that it was the story of The Raising of Lazarus. It is in that Gospel reading that Jesus says those same words: “I am the Resurrection and the Life: whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” Jesus asks this of Martha, as a test of her faith. This statement and question together are what helped strengthen disciples of Jesus and served as foreshadowing of Jesus’s death on the cross. To me, it served as another sign, in addition to the beautiful rays of light I witnessed in response to my own test of faith that morning. Reading those words, “I am the Resurrection and the Life” and potentially for the first time, actually comprehending their meaning, moved me. And then to see the words again today as part of the Gospel for the Fifth Sunday in Lent tells me I’m not in a crisis of faith at all. I’m being challenged, tested and I need to choose love, now more than ever…with my faith journey, my gratitude practice, and certainly with my mom. Amen. The Gospel for the Fourth Sunday of Lent (John 9:1–41) invites us into a powerful journey—from blindness to sight, from certainty to deeper truth, from exclusion to belonging.
At the center of the story is a man born blind, someone who has never seen light, color, or faces. The disciples begin with a question that reflects a common human instinct: “Who sinned?” They are looking for a cause, someone to blame. But Jesus Christ shifts the entire perspective. This man’s condition is not about punishment—it is an opportunity for God’s works to be revealed. Already, we are being asked to reconsider how we see suffering, weakness, and even one another. Jesus heals the man in a way that is both physical and symbolic: mud, touch, washing. The man must participate—he goes, he washes, and he returns able to see. His healing is not just something done to him, but something he steps into. And as his physical sight is restored, something deeper begins to unfold: his spiritual vision. Meanwhile, those who can see, namely the Pharisees, struggle. They question, interrogate, and ultimately reject what has happened because it does not fit within their expectations. Ironically, the ones who claim clarity become the ones most blind. The healed man, on the other hand, grows in insight step by step:
This gradual awakening is deeply comforting. Faith is not always instantaneous clarity, it is often a journey, marked by questions, courage, and encounter. One of the most striking moments is when the healed man is cast out. Having received sight, he loses his place in the community. Yet it is precisely there, in that place of rejection, that Jesus finds him again. The encounter becomes personal, intimate, transformative. This Gospel challenges us gently but firmly: Where am I blind? Not physically, but spiritually—where are the places I resist seeing clearly? Where do I cling to assumptions, judgments, or comfort instead of truth? And just as importantly: how do I see others? Do I see with compassion, or with categories? Do I recognize the dignity and story in each person, or do I reduce them to labels? The promise of this Gospel is not just that sight is possible—it is that Christ seeks us out in our blindness. He meets us where we are, invites us to wash, to trust, and to see anew. This week, the invitation is simple but profound: to let ourselves be seen, healed, and gradually brought into the light. On International Women’s Day, we pause to give thanks for the countless women who have shaped the Church, our communities, and the lives of young people. From mothers and grandmothers to teachers, ministers, and mentors, women have carried the Gospel forward with courage, wisdom, and compassion.
Throughout Scripture, we encounter women whose faith changed the course of history—Mary’s courageous “yes,” Mary Magdalene’s faithful witness to the Resurrection, and the many unnamed women who followed Jesus and supported his ministry. Their stories remind us that God continually raises up women as leaders, disciples, and bearers of hope. At United Catholic Youth Ministries, we see this witness alive in the young women who lead, serve, speak with prophetic courage, and accompany others in faith. Their voices, gifts, and leadership are not only needed—they are essential to the life of the Church and to the flourishing of our world. International Women’s Day also calls us to action. As people of faith, we are invited to ensure that young women are supported, empowered, and encouraged to respond boldly to God’s call in their lives. This means advocating for dignity, creating spaces of belonging, and recognizing the sacred gifts women bring to ministry and leadership. May we continue to lift up the voices of women, stand in solidarity with them, and encourage the next generation of young women to know that they are beloved by God and called to help shape the future of the Church. Today and every day, we give thanks for the women who inspire us to live the Gospel more fully. Third Sunday of Lent
Tina Carter, MDiv, MLIS, Board of Directors As humans, we can survive between three and seven days without water. Between 24 and 48 hours without water, one can experience dry mouth, fatigue, headaches, and reduced urination. The longer one goes without water; confusion sets in eventually leading to a breakdown in one’s organs and death. Approximately Sixty per cent of our bodies are made up of water. Maintaining proper hydration is necessary for overall health and well-being. Are we also maintaining spiritual hydration? The gospel reading provides us with an example of how proper hydration can strengthen our spiritual health and well-being. For the woman at the well, she had to wait at the hottest point during the day to draw life-giving water. She was ostracized, shunned, and given the side-eye by people in her village. And yet, she was thirsty too. This woman was experiencing the dry mouth of being othered in her community, fatigued by the whispers about her personal life, suffered headaches over one failed relationship after another, not being able to release the cellular waste that is affecting her body. Confusion that she was not worthy was setting in and her heart, one of the strongest organs in our bodies, was beginning to break down. It was at this point that Christ offered her spiritual hydration that became necessary for her overall health and well-being. That living water, which helps all of us never to thirst anymore, is free to give and free to drink. Like a doctor, Jesus diagnosed what her symptoms were and gave her a prescription to never be thirsty again and receive everlasting life. The medicine to drink deeply and fully from the well of life-giving water strengthened her to go and share with others what Jesus did for her. Are you drinking from wells that cause you to thirst? Are you searching for spiritual water in the wilderness of life? Are you experiencing the dry mouth of shame, the fatigue of feeling powerless, suffering from headaches of uncertainty, leading to waste buildup in your soul that is becoming harder to expel? Remember that the promises gained in baptism inspire us to make the most of the life-giving water offered, supporting our spiritual health and well-being. This allows us to participate in the promises of God and Christ though the Holy Spirit. By partaking in this life-giving water, we will never have to worry about spiritual thirst ever again. President Claire Labbe, appointed new board members (bios to coming soon!) as well as approved a change in board leadership. We want to extend our sincerest and strongest gratitude to Mireya Dominguez, who will be stepping down as our Vice President. Mireya has served with UCYM since 2021 starting as our Quinceañera Ministry Coordinator then moved into being Operations Director and was voted as Vice President of the Board of Directors in 2023. We are so grateful to have benefitted from her ministry and leadership. We are also grateful she is staying on as a board member.
Claire has appointed board member and spiritual advisor Sister Belinda Monahan, OSB as our Interim Vice President! Sister Belinda has been connected with UCYM in various ways since 2018 giving talks, helping with retreats, and was elected to the board in 2023. She is a Benedictine Sister of Chicago. We want to thank Sister Belinda for her dedication and for stepping into this leadership role. It is no accident that we acknowledge these two incredible women amidst celebration of Women’s History Month. Without women like Mireya and Sister Belinda, UCYM would not be celebrating 10 years of ministry! Women's History Month 2026 Statement
Oblate James Holzhauer-Chuckas, ObSB, Executive Director As we celebrate Women’s History Month, United Catholic Youth Ministries pauses in gratitude—and in conviction. We give thanks for the countless women who have shaped our faith: mothers and abuelas who whispered prayers over their children, catechists who opened Scripture with courage, campus ministers who walked with young people through doubt and discernment, and saints who proclaimed with their lives that the Gospel is not passive—it is powerful. From Mary, Mother of Jesus, whose courageous “yes” changed the course of history, to St. Scholastica, who reformed religious life with bold vision, to St. Josephine Bakhita, who transformed suffering into liberation, women have always been theologians of lived experience and prophets of justice. In our own time, women continue to lead movements of mercy, scholarship, accompaniment, and reform within the Church and beyond. Yet celebration must also become commitment. Women in the Church—especially women of color, immigrant women, young women, and women discerning religious or lay ecclesial vocations—continue to navigate systems that do not always recognize the fullness of their gifts. If we truly believe in the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, then we must believe that the Spirit continues to speak powerfully through the voices of women today. At United Catholic Youth Ministries, we are called not only to affirm the dignity of young women—but to invest in their leadership. That means:
Young women deserve to see themselves reflected in the future of our Church—not as an afterthought, but as co-builders of the Kingdom. Women’s History Month is not simply about remembering. It is about recommitting. Recommitting to accompaniment. Recommitting to equity. Recommitting to the belief that when women thrive, the Church flourishes. To every young woman discerning her voice, her vocation, her call to lead: the Church needs your courage. The Church needs your intellect. The Church needs your fire for justice. Do not shrink your gifts. The Spirit who came to Mary continues to move in you. And to our broader community: let us not simply applaud women this month. Let us hire them. Fund them. Mentor them. Defend them. Listen to them. Walk beside them. Affirm their vocation. The history of women in the Church is not finished being written. Together—with faith, advocacy, and action—we will help write the next chapter. In solidarity, Dare to Believe that Christ is Calling You
Elisabeth Roman, M.P.A., Board of Directors The readings for the Second Sunday of Lent invite us into a journey of faith that begins with trust and leads to transformation. In the first reading, God calls Abram: “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk… to a land that I will show you.” Abram responds with courage and trust, stepping into an unknown future guided only by God’s promise. This call speaks powerfully to young people today. Youth is a time of decisions, dreams, uncertainty, and new beginnings. Like Abram, young people often feel they are being asked to move forward without having all the answers. Lent reminds us that faith does not begin with certainty—it begins with trust. Abram did not know where God would lead him, but he trusted that God had a plan. In the same way, young people are invited to trust that God is guiding their lives even when the path is not clear. The Gospel of the Transfiguration deepens this message. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain, and they see him transformed in glory. The disciples hear the voice of the Father: “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.” The Transfiguration is a moment when the disciples glimpse who Jesus truly is. It shows them that behind the struggles and suffering that lie ahead is the promise of glory. Lent is like climbing that mountain. It is a time when we step away from distractions to see Jesus more clearly. For young people, this is especially important. Many young people today struggle with identity, pressure, anxiety, discrimination, racism, and the fear of the future. The Transfiguration reminds them that they are not meant to live in darkness or confusion. God reveals light in the midst of uncertainty. Jesus does not only transform on the mountain—he also invites his disciples to be transformed. The disciples wanted to stay on the mountain. Peter said, “It is good that we are here.” But Jesus leads them back down into ordinary life. This is an important lesson for young people: faith is not only about powerful moments—retreats, pilgrimages, or youth gatherings. Faith must continue in daily life: at school, at home, and among friends. And Lent is not just about giving something up. It is about becoming who God created us to be. St. Paul reminds us that God “called us to a holy life… according to his own purpose and grace.” Young people are not accidents or afterthoughts. Each one has a calling and a mission. This Second Sunday of Lent invites young people to ask three questions:
These are not easy times to grow up in. The world can feel uncertain, divided, and overwhelming. Many voices try to tell you who you are and what your life should be, and sometimes it can be hard to know which voice to follow. But on the mountain of the Transfiguration, God speaks clearly: “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.” In a world full of noise, Jesus is the voice that tells you the truth about who you are. You are not defined by fear, pressure, social media, or the expectations of others. You are beloved. You are chosen. You are called. Lent is your invitation to climb the mountain with Jesus — to step away from the noise long enough to discover that your life has meaning and direction. Even if you do not see the whole path ahead, God is already walking with you. He is shaping you into someone strong, compassionate, courageous, and faithful. Do not be afraid of the future. God is already there. Do not be afraid of your questions. God welcomes them. Do not be afraid of your weakness. God works through it. The world does not need perfect young people — the world needs young people who trust God enough to follow Him. This Lent, dare to believe that your life has a purpose greater than comfort, popularity, or success. Dare to believe that Christ is calling you personally. Dare to walk forward in hope. Because the same Jesus who was transfigured in glory is calling you to become the light for this generation. First Sunday of Lent
Carla Orduno, Board of Directors The First Sunday of Lent places us in the desert with Jesus — and honestly, that’s uncomfortable. The desert is quiet. It’s slow. It strips everything down. There’s no distraction there, no noise to hide behind. Just hunger, silence, and truth. What stays with me is that Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert. It wasn’t random. It wasn’t punishment. It was part of the journey. That shifts something in me. Not every hard season means I’m lost. Sometimes I’m being led. Jesus is hungry when the tempter comes. Vulnerable. And that feels real. Temptation doesn’t usually show up when I’m strong and steady. It comes when I’m tired. When I feel unseen. When I feel like something is missing. “Turn these stones into bread.” Fix it. Control it. Meet your own need. I see myself there more than I’d like to admit. When I’m uncomfortable, I want relief now. I want answers now. I want security now. But Jesus doesn’t let hunger make the decision for Him. He chooses trust over control. Then comes the line that feels personal: “If you are the Son of God…” It’s subtle, but it attacks identity. Prove it. Show it. Perform. And I think that’s where so much of my own struggle lives -- in trying to prove I’m capable, worthy, strong enough. Jesus doesn’t prove anything. He already knows who He is. He doesn’t need applause or validation. He stands firm in truth. The last temptation — power without sacrifice — might be the hardest. A shortcut. The outcome without the obedience. And that’s real life. Wanting the promise without the process. The reward without the waiting. This Gospel makes me sit with some uncomfortable questions: Where am I trying to take control instead of trust? Where am I trying to prove myself? Where am I looking for the easier way? The desert opens things up in me — impatience, insecurity, fear of not having enough or not being enough. It exposes how much I rely on quick fixes instead of quiet faith. And yet, that part comforts me — the desert is not forever. Faithfulness matters. Strength comes. God provides. Lent isn’t about proving how strong I am. It’s about remembering who I belong to — especially when I feel weak. And in the desert, when everything else is stripped away, that truth becomes very clear. As we celebrate 10 years of United Catholic Youth Ministries today, March 1, we give thanks to God for a decade of accompaniment, courage, and co-building with young people! What began as a vision to walk with youth and young adults in faith has grown into a community rooted in Catholic Social Teaching, belonging, and authentic relationship.
We are deeply grateful for the pastors, ministry leaders, donors, volunteers, and young people whose generosity of time, talent, and treasure has shaped this mission. Your trust and collaboration have allowed UCYM to create spaces where young people are seen, heard, empowered, and sent forth as leaders in the Church and in the world. As we look to the next decade, we recommit ourselves to journeying with young people—especially those on the margins—building ministries that reflect the Gospel’s call to justice, hope, and communion. May the Holy Spirit continue to guide and strengthen us for the work ahead! Happy 10th Birthday, UCYM Community! |