HOLY THURSDAY

“Behold a broken world we pray where want and war increase.”

At no other time have the opening lines of this hymn been so profound in meaning. (CBW 538)

I write this blog a few weeks ahead of April 14. I don’t know what the world situation will be on that day, but the particularity of today is concrete: bombings, death, homelessness, displaced children, beauty demolished, apologies being sought. With such a reality how might we approach the church’s liturgy and sing in the Pange Lingua: “Hail the Blood which, shed for sinners, did a broken world restore”, a broken world restore.”

We feast on unleavened bread and wine transformed to be for us total embodiment in Christ. We feast sometimes with wavering hope, wanting oh so much to be confident, that our broken world will be restored in the here and now. In the same liturgy we ritualize the humbling act of foot washing, knowing that we too are called to serve, called to engage in making our broken world whole again. But when O God . . . when? Lament and sorrow are so real. Is not the self-giving of Christ the vessel in which to hold the present moment? The One who is Love itself holding the world in the tragedy of the moment.

The Holy Thursday liturgy is the grounding place to move into the darkness of Good Friday and the silence of Holy Saturday. It invites us to be for others just as Christ: washing feet, sharing the gifts of the earth, seeking a better world where all races, genders, creeds are one. The liturgy teaches us ways of being, that weave the world community together.

“ It invites us to be for others just as Christ: washing feet, sharing the gifts of the earth, seeking a better world where all races, genders, creeds are one. The liturgy teaches us ways of being, that weave the world community together.”

Nations are welcoming, clothing, feeding those fleeing from the violence. Other nations are financing care. In the midst of the tragedy, I heard a Ukrainian woman challenge us not to forget the millions who are fleeing other violent, oppressive regimes. The human heart beats with every breath: love one another.

The hymn I first quoted ends this way:

Bring Lord, your better world to birth, . . . .  Where peace with God, and peace on earth and peace eternal reign.  (Hymn text by Timothy Dudley Smith, Catholic Book of Worship III #538)

At the end of the Holy Thursday liturgy, we pray together in deep silence, so too in this moment . . .

-Sister Loretta Manzara, csj

Palm Sunday

Who doesn’t love a parade? So much coming together to prepare (Luke 19: 28-40), to celebrate an event or accomplishment with colour, singing and cheering. In ancient times parades also included the use of palms to prepare the way for those being celebrated and loud Hosannas rang out. Palm branches, which symbolized goodness, wellbeing, grandeur, steadfastness and/or victory, were strewn before the celebrated persons. And so it was fitting that after all the wonders of Jesus’ public life he was welcomed to Jerusalem in exactly that manner.     

This Palm Sunday the readings drawn me to journey with the apostles. (Philippians 2:6-11, Luke 22: 14, 23-56)

They must have been so excited and engaged as they witnessed Jesus’ amazing welcome. Suddenly they would have been in a daze - things started to change in frightening ways. Over the Passover dinner Jesus tells them how eager He was to eat this Passover with them before He “suffers”. He invites them to take bread and wine “in memory” of Him. What did He mean “suffer” and where was He going? Jesus asks them to become servants and then confers on them a kingdom like the one his Father conferred on him. Servants, really? What kingdom? They were told Satan would sift them, but Jesus prayed their faith would not fail. Peter, ever the man of action, confirmed his faith by saying he would go to prison or die for Jesus. Quickly he heard the prediction from Jesus that he would in fact deny Jesus three times. Then Judas who was found to be planning to betray Jesus left the dinner only to return later to hand Jesus over for persecution. And then the unthinkable happened, Jesus was led away, tortured, and crucified. All of this happened within two days. No wonder they ran away, no wonder they were frightened. They had no time to process, to think through their responses and no time to pray. They had no idea how the story ended but we do.

Sadly, stories of injustice, persecution and death abound today. As apostles, how do we respond? Running away, putting heads in the sand or hiding the truth are not options for those of faith. Finding strength in faith, in communion with others and through compassionate action is where I hope to find myself.

How about you?

-Maureen Condon

Header Image: Unsplash/Brooke Lark

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