The Beginning of the End of Lent -- and Perhaps of Violence

As we enter into the final two weeks of Lent, I reflect on how different this penitential season has been for me this year. Our world has experienced climate disasters, two years of the pandemic, the turbulence of war in Ukraine, and insurrections elsewhere. We are tired. We are aware of our inability to control the natural or human forces which cause immense suffering. We seek answers, relief, and reasons for hope. Lent is a time in which we reflect on Jesus’ life, his teachings, how people either followed or sought to destroy him, his ignominious crucifixion, and victory over death. Lent for me this year has been a time for pondering how my beliefs and values are expressed in the choices I make each day. 

The scriptural readings for this fifth Sunday of Lent are a source of wisdom as we confront fears about malignant powers beyond our control and choose the values that govern our actions. The Prophet Isaiah uses extravagant images to describe the powerful actions of God “who makes a path through mighty waters and quenches an army like a wick”. God bids us forget former things; He is about to do a new thing – create rivers in the desert “to give drink to my chosen people”. (Isaiah 43. 16-21). The psalmist reminds us that “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy”. With confidence, the psalmist prays: “Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses in the desert of the Negev”(Psalm 126).  Paul, the former persecutor of Christians, tells us that for the surpassing value of knowing Jesus he has suffered the loss of all things and considers them rubbish. He proclaims: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. . . . forgetting what lies behind.  and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus”.

““I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. . . . forgetting what lies behind.  and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus”.”

image: unsplash/Prateek Gautam

We have no simple solution to the problems in our troubled world or a clever way to overcome the powers of malevolent dictators. Nor will a mere human explanation satisfy our human desire to know why such evils exist. Like Job, we are to live in the confident knowledge that there is an answer but it is beyond our human comprehension. The scriptural readings on this fifth Sunday of Lent do not teach us how to fix the ills of this time. Rather we must learn that indeed much in our lives is beyond our control.   Jesus’ confrontation with the Pharisees who demand that he judge a woman caught in adultery (John 8.1-11) evoked an unexpected response.  The story uncovers treachery and exposes the devious motives underlying “pious” actions. Each of us is capable of blindly behaving like the hypocritical Pharisees.  When confronted with truth, the Pharisees walked away in silence. Sitting contemplatively with this story and applying it to ourselves will bring light to the truth underlying our actions; we have a choice to accept or evade this truth. The story reveals the compassion, forgiveness, and love of Jesus for each of us, and teaches us how we are to live in our relationships with each other.

The invasion of Ukraine and violent actions of governments or partisan factions are not remedied by more of the same. It is time to listen to unwelcome truths within ourselves and to search for wisdom in the teachings of Christianity and other great religions.

Sister Pat McKeon, csj

A Lenten Moment

Restless, during a morning meditation this Lent, a poignant memory popped into my reflection and changed my prayer.  In my younger years as a guidance counselor, I sometimes visited a classroom to deliver a message or speak to a student.  One morning, as I quietly opened the door to the woodworking class, I was taken aback by the hush in the room and the alluring scent of sawdust and wood shavings as the students went calmly about their projects.

In the centre of the classroom, clamped to a large table, stood a life-sized, maple cross made in the workshop and destined to have a permanent place in the school’s front entrance.  As I surveyed the peaceful scene, a young student wearing his white shirt and dark pants quietly walked to the large cross, put his back to it and measured himself upon it.  He paused for a short time and silently walked back to his work.  Only I witnessed the moving experience and was awed and overcome with love. As is often the case, so much of what one feels is left unspoken.

Image: Unsplash/Aaron Burden

As my mind returned to my meditation, the long-ago memory provided a deep grace in my day.  How blessed were those students to have that old rugged cross in their midst during those Lenten days.  I’m sure the young fellow was not the only one who had deep thoughts about Jesus and the meaning of life.

Looking back over my years in education, I was blessed to be among thousands of young people making their way through the academic grades. I am proud of our Catholic education system that imparts scriptural knowledge and moral values in an atmosphere of peace and kindness.  Today, I pray for the amazing youth in our schools and for the fresh-faced young people in Russia and Ukraine who neither asked for a war nor ever dreamed they would be called to serve. I hope we are able, like that young student years ago, to measure ourselves against the cross - and have it steady us.

 -Sister Jean Moylan, csj

Fourth Sunday of Lent 2022

Image: Unsplash/Tiffany Nguyen

Be sure and pick a rose for this Sunday. Yes, the Fourth Sunday of Lent is called Laetare Sunday, and the liturgical colour is rose. “Laetare” meaning ‘rejoice’, has its place in our Lenten journey similar to “Gaudete Sunday” in Advent when we pause to anticipate the joy of Christ’s coming. Laetare is a more solemn anticipation, but nonetheless a moment in our penitential Lenten path to remember our Creator is a God of love who invites us to healing of body, mind and spirit. The grace of God’s compassionate love is always beside us in our trials and struggles of life.

Simnel cake has been eaten since medieval times as both a rich, sweet treat and a symbolic ritual. The fruit cake is topped with eleven marzipan balls to represent the eleven apostles of Christ, minus Judas.

With the change of colour we recognize it’s a time to briefly glimpse the joy and celebration that awaits us at Easter, like a spring crocus unexpectedly breaking through the earth. In medieval England simnel cakes (special rich fruitcakes) were a treat given out on this day. It is a signal time of hope and encouragement. Always our Creator is a God of compassionate mercy. Our lives follow a cycle of God’s birth life, death, and resurrection and Laetare Sunday reminds us to keep our perspective of the whole journey in mind and heart. As we are born of the Earth, so our spiritual lives are birthed and rebirthed. Soon the fields will break into green garments, the song time of returning birds will be heard and flowers appear in tidy gardens - and in the most impossible cracks of our pathways. Hope will once again be birthed in God’s creation.

“Soon the fields will break into green garments, the song time of returning birds will be heard and flowers appear in tidy gardens - and in the most impossible cracks of our pathways. Hope will once again be birthed in God’s creation. ”

In today’s scripture the themes of God’s generous nourishment and abundant forgiveness is traced through the readings. In Joshua there is the celebration of Passover with the first produce of the land of Canaan that year. And in the Gospel God’s unconditional love and forgiveness is illustrated in the parable of the ‘Prodigal Son’. Although we might well quibble that the lost son didn’t deserve such a feast upon his return from squandering his father’s inheritance, God’s stance in the father’s actions turns our worldly logic upside down. Repentance and sincere contrition are the only the grounds for God’s unconditional love. The way home to our true self in God’s heart and love is open to us.

Each of us have our lost and shadow selves that we would rather not admit to having. Although we’d rather hide them, sometimes our shortcomings and fears, unworthiness and self-doubts are calling out to us for acceptance and compassionate love. As John 4:18 writes, “perfect love casts out fear”. Fear can be an astute warning sign of danger, but when it overtakes us, fear becomes a self-punishment. That is not God’s way, and the message of Jesus constantly reminds and assures us of this ultimate reality. God’s embracing love is there to clothe us in resilient hope and new courage in all times and circumstances.

St. Paul calls us to be ministers of reconciliation, for as we know God’s forgiveness and compassionate love, so we are called to share the abundance of compassion with those we encounter. It is the way of the heart. And it is the message of the rose.

-Sister Linda Gregg, csj

On the 3rd Sunday of Lent

On this 3rd Sunday of Lent, the Gospel of Luke presents us with a parable about a fig tree; the owner of the vineyard; and a gardener who takes care of the vineyard. 

Image: Unsplash/Jametlene Reskp

The fig tree (representing humanity) is not bearing fruit.  The owner (God) is frustrated over this situation and suggests that it is time to cut the tree down.  The gardener (Jesus who has been preaching repentance for 3 years) suggests that the owner give the tree a little more time, so that He can water and fertilize it.  The vineyard owner grants another year of life to the fig tree.

Over the past two+ years with COVID restrictions and all that this pandemic has entailed personally and collectively most of us perhaps have identified with the fig tree in the Gospel.  Cut off from family, friends, work etc. questions such as “what can I do” or “how am I to live in this new time” often arose in many of us on a daily basis.  We felt barren and not able to be the people we were before the pandemic took over our entire lives.   I am wondering if in our own minds, can we imagine God’s frustration with us and our response to these cautionary health restrictions which in some cases caused division across our province and our world.

Image: Unsplash/Elena Mozhvilo

With the immediacy of the current world crisis, I see the image of the fig tree (humanity) beginning to bear fruit  these past weeks as we (almost the entire world)  stand in solidarity with the people of Ukraine. We are seeing humanity on two sides of the same coin.  One side continues to send missiles, block roads, cut off power, food and shelter for the people AND the other side reaching out and welcoming strangers into their homeland offering food, shelter, and support. 

Image: Unsplash/Delia Giandeini

God (the owner) in His mercy grants us another day, another hour, another breath, another opportunity. During these Lenten days Christ (the gardener) once again stands at the door of our hearts calling us to turn away from sin, repent, and embrace the Gospel message of love, so that through the grace of transformation our words and actions will bear fruit that will last. 

The Prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 55:v 6) reminds us to “seek God while God may be found, call on God while God is still near”.  These present day realities starkly remind us that we are living on borrowed time.  How will I choose to live in this time?  Who is my neighbor and to whom am I neighbor?  How am I listening to God, to the universe, to the pulse of our world?

Reflection by Sister A. MacDonald and L. Bordonaro

TRANSFIGURATION

Image: Unsplash/Joanne Francis

Did you know that it is the intense heat of a forest fire that releases the seeds of the pinecone so that new growth can take place?

…tall, black tree trunks scarred from fire, now delicately outlined with fresh, white snow

…the lush, green of the forest floor in spring, following a fire

…the pinkish, purple blossoms of the fireweed plant growing in the spaces left vacant by fire.

These are images I see as I drive along our highway and roads after several years of intense summers of forest fires, These are transformation images for me.

As I reflect on the encounters I have had in my varied ministry, they too, speak of transfiguration.

…from two seven- year- old children in First Communion, one sharing her time when she talks with Jesus and the light in her heart as He speaks to her, and the other child telling of seeing Jesus, authentic, true and transforming.

…to the man who asked if I would come with him to a telehealth conference call…holding his anxiety.

…to the Inuit woman, sitting on my living-room floor, sharing for the first time her story of pain, trauma, and abuse, she, being transformed in the telling, me being transformed in the holding of story.

…to keeping vigil with my dying friend and eventually being able to say, “It is okay to go.”

In this second week of Lent, Jesus invites us to go up the mountain with him. He had a conversation with Moses and Elijah about his imminent death. Yet, in the intensity of that conversation, new life, glory, is proclaimed by the Father.

What conversation will Jesus have with you, with me? What transfiguration moments do I recognize each day?

 -Sister Maggie Beaudette, csj

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Images: Unsplash/Johannes Plenio; David Dilbert