It's great to be with all of you. I recognize some familiar faces from STAC’s feast day Mission Moment program a couple of weeks ago. I had the privilege of sharing my experience walking in the footsteps of St. Dominic during my trip to Fanjeaux, France. And here I am today - so if you can’t read between the lines, Sr. Peggy really has me hard at work!
For those of you who are not familiar with me, my name is Kieran Keenan. I was born in the early 2000s and raised in New City, NY, by two Albertus graduates - Dad was in the class of '85, and Mom was in the class of '87. So, you could say I was Falcon-bred, destined by God to wear the maroon and white. My father was a high school teacher and Irish musician, and my mother was a nurse. We lived in a big house on a cul-de-sac, took multiple family vacations a year to Boynton Beach, Florida, summer weeks in Ocean City, NJ - we had it all. But when I was 11, my father was playing at a large festival. Before his set, we went to the beach. He went surfing, like he always did. And within an hour, we were rushing to the hospital. He had fallen off his board, broken his neck, and was paralyzed.
The first thing is that my family's life was now shaken forever. The 2nd thing is that as a kid, you don’t fully understand suffering - and it’s both confusing, you’re 11 taking care of your 47-year-old Dad, and frustrating because without Jesus you can’t really understand redemptive suffering for what it truly is. Two years later, I witnessed the most sinister and evil divorce imaginable and watched horrible injustices occur to those closest to me by way of word and deed. At that point, I had been raised a ‘Cradle Catholic’ and really didn’t know who Jesus was. And these wounds cut so deep, and the devil had his way with me, that I decided to completely reject God. And that began what I would call my desert.
Sisters, you’ve lived long enough to know that no one escapes the desert, right? We all enter it at some point. Illness. Loss. Betrayal. Loneliness. Confusion. But here’s what I didn’t understand at 11 years old: the desert is not the absence of God. It is often the place where GOD does His deepest work. But this time, without God, left me more miserable and bitter, and I knew I needed Him. I just didn’t think he loved me.
Until, several years later, I experienced a miracle of grace, and it came largely through my father’s witness. A man who suffered greatly… but did not curse God. A man who carried his cross quietly. It wasn’t an argument that brought me back. It was a witness. And I know I’m speaking to women who understand the power of witness.
In today’s Gospel, we hear that Jesus is led by the Spirit into the desert. LED! He does not storm into it to prove Himself. He does not announce it. He does not treat it like a spiritual competition. He is led.
And that is such an important detail for us during Lent. It’s not about proving ourselves to God. It is about surrendering ourselves to Him.
Now, we all know the external things: fasting, prayer, almsgiving. You have seen many Lents come and go. Fifty? Sixty? Probably more.
And yet every year, the invitation is still the same: Go deeper. But the danger is this — we can turn Lent into self-improvement. A spiritual fitness challenge. Something we accomplish.
The world is very comfortable with that version of Lent. Bishop Robert Barron often describes two ways of living. One is an “ego-drama.” I’m the star. I direct the story. I write the script. It revolves around me.
The other is a “Theo-drama.” God is the author. God is the director. And I am simply a willing participant in His story. Lent is not an ego-drama. It is a Theo-drama. It is allowing God to take the lead. And that’s exactly what Jesus does. He allows Himself to be led into hunger, temptation, and silence — not because He needs purification, but because we do. He steps into our humanity completely. It’s as if He is saying: “I am not far from you. I am with you — even here.”
There’s a line in the Book of Revelation that says the dragon makes war against the children of the woman — those who keep God’s commandments and bear witness to Jesus. That’s us. If we belong to Christ, we will experience resistance.
But here is the good news — Jesus has already won. The enemy hates humility. He hates obedience. He hates surrender. And, something I learned in the Lands of Dominic is that this has been the quiet strength of Dominican life for centuries. Humility. Obedience. Fidelity. You crush the enemy not with noise, but with faithfulness. And in a world that gets louder every year — with more buzzes and notifications and distractions — God still speaks the same way He always has. In silence. In surrender. In the desert.
Sisters, you have walked with Christ longer than I have been alive. (I just turned 24) You have endured your deserts. You have lived your vows. You have surrendered again and again. This Lent, perhaps the invitation is not to do more — but to let Him lead more. Not louder. Not harder. Just deeper.
Let it be His story. Let it be His drama. And we will follow.
So together let us say - Amen.