Thoughts on Palm Sunday

 PASSION OF CHRIST

 

Palm Sunday is the liturgical introduction to Jesus' Passion. For many Christ’s passion is a confounding and horrible mystery. We cannot understand why the Father allowed this. However, through our prayer and reflection on the Last Supper and Eucharist we can gain some understanding of Christ’s passion and death. The Eucharist is the sign of Jesus' love for us, of his desire to be one with us. The Eucharist is where Jesus is; Eucharist is what gives everything that happens to Him purpose and meaning. We are caught up in a love that holds nothing back, a love that accepts even death, seeing death-in-faith as no limit to God’s love.

 

The Last Supper and Eucharist can become a lens through which we try to take in and comprehend why God and Jesus have allowed this. The Last Supper and Eucharist reveals how Jesus passion is about his desire to be one with us, to share himself as completely as he can, to do this for all times, now in this life and forever in the Risen life.

 

Praying on the passion of our Lord has been described as an invitation to a most intimate and personal experience at the very core of Jesus being. The prayer with Jesus can be so stark, so simple, so sacred, so profound, that any attempt even to verbalize the experience may seem to be a violation of the sacred. It is a gift from our Lord to take us into all of this and allow us to experience his passion in a way that will deepen, and strengthen our love for Him as well as mold the shape and manner of our discipleship.

 

My feelings can seem out of context and proportion to what I am considering, i.e., I don’t feel as sorrowful as I believe I should or grieve as I believe I should. But I have to accept the feelings with which Christ graces my prayer.

 

Moreover, for many it is frustrating not to be able to do anything—but just be there. This seems so inadequate and I am not content with that. Perhaps all you can do is be present as a friend of Christ and ask that you be allowed to share in his sufferings. But my determination and effort to remain with Christ in itself can be a great grace. 

 

Christ should be the focus of "passion prayer," to be with him and feel for him as he suffers for me. However, to maintain this focus is often not an easy task. As Joseph Tetlow, S.J. comments, "These are terrible events, and we are keeping a death watch." Moreover, in praying the passion the focus can easily change away from Christ to me: would I be as cowardly as Peter or Pilate, would I have fled as the other apostles did, how would I withstand the soldiers’ lashes?

 

To keep Christ at the heart of your prayer, Ignatius Loyola stresses noticing what is happening inside of Christ: how he suffers in his humanity; how his divinity as it were is put aside; and recalling that he suffers for my sins and for love of me. 

 

In Jesus’ passion, we will find very deep if not the deepest insights into his humanity, how fully he lived our life, how fully human he is; his vulnerability, (he had not experienced the Resurrection); his frustration, his disappointment, his suffering, his great love for me.

Let us pray for an ever deeper appreciation of our Lord for us.

 

Jim Blumeyer, S.J.

Thoughts on death

 More Lenten gifts from God are offered to us this Sunday! This time the Lord offers us the gift of profound belief that death is not the end for us.

 We read in the Gospel, "Jesus said to [Martha], 'Your brother [Lazarus] will rise... Do you believe this?' She said to him, 'Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.'"

We know that death for Jesus is but a form of sleep. He says so several times in this passage. Death is not a permanent state. Do you and I believe this?

Revelation teaches us that death wasn't part of the original plan of God. And thus you and I have difficulty accepting it, and regularly grieve at the temporary separations we experience with loved ones. Jesus himself grieved at the tomb of his dear friend Lazarus! He certainly understands from the inside just how difficult death is for us. We read that his entrails are moved with compassion at the experience and he is "perturbed" in spirit. Death will certainly be difficult for him too, and especially for his mother who must watch him die. 

But death never has the last word! Life does. Jesus reminds us of this over and over. He is Life Itself! We are invited to receive this truth as a profound gift this Lent. Death is but a passageway to eternal life. Our task is simply to surrender ourselves and our loved ones to his Mercy, allowing ourselves to be filled with his Life, with his Spirit.  



All this is summarized nicely in our second reading this Sunday: "The one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit dwelling in you." Yes!!

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Thoughts on work

 

The Virtue of Work

“My Father is still working, and I also am working” (John 5:170).

Francis not only encouraged his brothers to work; he preferred that they be about manual labor—concrete, physical actions that could be clearly seen and rightly interpreted. His Rule of 1221 instructed:

The friars who have a trade should work at it, provided that it is no obstacle to their spiritual progress and can be practised without scandal. The Psalmist tells us, You shall eat the fruit of your handi- work; happy shall you be, and favoured (127:2); and St. Paul adds, If any man will not work, neither let him eat (2 Thessalonians 3:10). Everyone should remain at the trade and in the position in which he was called. In payment they may accept anything they need, except money. If necessary, they can go for alms like the rest of the friars. They are allowed to have the tools which they need for their trade. All the friars must work hard doing good, as it has been said, “Always be doing something worthwhile; then the devil will always find you busy” and, “Idleness is the enemy of the soul.” And so those who serve God should be always busy praying or doing good.

More and more people work at occupations that make few physical demands. While there will always be jobs that involve manual labor, not everyone can enjoy the satisfaction that comes with seeing a concrete result from physical work. Often our hobbies reveal that we need to do things with our hands, we need to be active, we need to use our bodies as well as our minds. To what good work can you lend your hands today?

—from the book Lent with St. Francis: Daily Reflections
by Diane M. Houdek

Thoughts on signs and wonders

 

Signs and Wonders

“Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe” (John 4:48).

Francis strenuously denied the suggestions that he was a saint. He kept hidden the marks of the stigmata. He refused to let people attribute miracles to him. He knew, as Jesus did, the human desire for signs and wonders, for the extraordinary and the marvelous. And they both knew that it was easy for people to get stuck there. St. Bonaventure’s Major Life of St. Francis shows us that after Francis’s death, the signs of his holiness could no longer be hidden.

After his death the Lord made the truth of them still more manifest through miracles which occurred in different parts of the world. These miracles touched the hearts of many persons who had not rightly judged and appreciated the servant of God during his life time, and had doubted about the stigmata. Their doubt was changed into such faith and certainty that many who had formerly decried the servant of God were moved through the Lord to accept the truth and they became fervent in praising him and in spreading his fame and teaching.

We rejoice in the great things that Francis did during his lifetime and continues to do in the communion of saints. But those who spend time meditating on the words of Francis can also feel a twinge of regret for the hiddenness and humility he so valued during his lifetime. It serves as a reminder not to desire fame and fortune but to seek, as Francis did, only the grace of God.

—from the book Lent with St. Francis: Daily Reflections
by Diane M. Houdek

Thoughts on mercy

 A Cry for Mercy

O Lord, this holy season of Lent is passing quickly. I entered into it with fear, but also with great expectations. I hoped for a great breakthrough, a powerful conversion, a real change of heart; I wanted Easter to be a day so full of light that not even a trace of darkness would be left in my soul.

But I know that you do not come to your people with thunder and lightning. Even St. Paul and St. Francis journeyed through much darkness before they could see your light. Let me be thankful for your gentle way. I know you are at work. I know you will not leave me alone. I know you are quickening me for Easter - but in a way fitting to my own history and my own temperament.

 

I pray that these last three weeks, in which you invite me to enter more fully into the mystery of your passion, will bring me a greater desire to follow you on the way that you create for me and to accept the cross that you give to me. Let me die to the desire to choose my own way and select my own desire. You do not want to make me a hero but a servant who loves you.

Be with me tomorrow and in the days to come, and let me experience your gentle presence. Amen

Henri Nouwen

Thoughts on humility

 

Holy Humility

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt” (Luke 18:9).

Humility is one of the most enduring characteristics of Francis’s life and attitudes. It’s the foundation of his love for Lady Poverty. It makes possible his commitment to peace. And he recognizes, as Jesus does in the Gospels, that the most difficult obstacle to overcome in realizing the kingdom of God are those people who don’t admit to their own sinfulness.

One day, he sought out a place of prayer…frequently repeating this word: O God, be merciful to me the sinner. Little by little a certain unspeakable joy and very great sweetness began to flood his innermost heart. He began also to stand aloof from himself, and, as his feelings were checked and the darkness that had gathered in his heart because of his fear of sin dispelled, there was poured into him a certainty that all his sins had been forgiven and a confidence of his restoration to grace was given him. He was then caught up above himself, and absorbed in a certain light; the capacity of his mind was enlarged and he could see clearly what was to come to pass. When this sweetness finally passed, along with the light, renewed in spirit, he seemed changed into another man.

True humility is knowing so well who we are in God’s loving sight that nothing anyone says or does can shake us.

—from the book Lent with St. Francis: Daily Reflections
by Diane M. Houdek

Thoughts on trust

 Lent is a time for receiving divine gifts. The pruning we do on certain levels (using traditional practices of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving) facilitates fruitful encounters with the Almighty. Thus we open ourselves up to receiving new gifts. Such gifts of God come in various forms--forgiveness and missionary zeal being two of the greatest.

This Sunday, the Lord invites to receive another gift from him--radical trust. The blind man, who represents you and me, experiences healing through the tender touch of Jesus. But this healing happens over time, and requires much trust on the man's part! Jesus in fact seals him in his blindness by making a mud paste of his saliva with the ground (note how the divine--Jesus' saliva--and the earthly come together again...new creation!) And after pasting the nan's eyes completely shut, Jesus sends him on a seeming fool's errand-- down a very steep hill to wash in a spring below. Thankfully the man trusts that God's miracles usually take place over time and require some inexplicable trust.

Miracles of healing for you and me too are most often the fruit of a process of faith. This blind man "sees" the need for faith, and begins meandering down the steep path set before him; and he comes back seeing. 

Where am I invited to trust God's healing grace working over time, even though it feels like God might be sealing me up in my darkness? What is the path of faith opening up before me? Ask the Lord to show you, as his gift, this path of trusting obedience he wants you to walk.

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Thoughts on joy

 

Your Hearts Will Be Full of Joy

Whereas patience is the mother of expectation, it is expectation itself that brings new joy to our lives. Jesus not only made us look at our pains, but also beyond them. “You are sad now, but I shall see you again and your hearts will be full of joy.” A man or woman without hope in the future cannot live creatively in the present. The paradox of expectation indeed is that those who believe in tomorrow can better live today, that those who expect joy to come out of sadness can discover the beginnings of a new life in the center of the old, that those who look forward to the returning Lord can discover him already in their midst. Henri Nouwen

Thoughts on patience

 

Patience

The mother of expectation is patience. The French author Simone Weil writes in her notebooks: “Waiting patiently in expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life.” Without patience our expectation degenerates into wishful thinking. Patience comes from the word patior, which means “to suffer.” The first thing that Jesus promises is suffering: “I tell you . . . you will be weeping and wailing . . . and you will be sorrowful.” But he calls these birth pains. And so, what seems a hindrance becomes a way; what seems an obstacle becomes a door; what seems a misfit becomes a cornerstone. Jesus changes our history from a random series of sad incidents and accidents into a constant opportunity for a change of heart. To wait patiently, therefore, means to allow our weeping and wailing to become the purifying preparation by which we are made ready to receive the joy that is promised to us. Henri Nouwen

Thoughts on thirst

 “Give me a drink.” These words of Jesus describe not only his physical thirst on a hot day, but his deeper supernatural thirst for souls. We know this because he follows up his request with, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink, ‘ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” Ah...now we're at the heart of the issue. Jesus thirsts to give you and me his living water, water that will become in one "a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”  That's his thirst then--that his grace and blessing well up from within us.

Practically, what does that mean for us this Lent? It means you and I need to tap into our places of emptiness, our places of neediness or sadness or aloneness, etc., and invite Jesus in there. That will facilitate encounter! And with that intimate encounter, we will carry the suffering quite differently. With Jesus. We won't be the same any longer. With the Samaritan woman, with Mary Magdalen, and with all the saints, we will exclaim, "I once was one way; I'm now completely different; and the difference was Him!"  

In other words, dear brothers and sisters, Lent is less about giving up things and more about creating a space to receive things, especially divine encounters with God.

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Thoughts on the Transfiguration

 

In today’s Gospel, we meet Jesus on top of a mountain. We find ourselves at this same mountaintop on every second Sunday of Lent, to join three of Jesus’ closest disciples as they witness his Transfiguration. This, then, becomes the promise that sustains them throughout his Passion, until the glory of Jesus’ Resurrection.

Matthew writes, “Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.” Soon, a voice from the heavens declared, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” At first, the disciples were afraid at what they’d seen and heard, falling prostrate on the ground. But Jesus brought them comfort and courage, saying, “Rise, and do not be afraid." He also advised them not to speak of what they saw until he was, “raised from the dead.”

Jesus’ Transfiguration is a significant moment in our faith. How can it guide us during the sacrificial season of Lent?

For Jesus and his disciples, the events in today’s Gospel foreshadow the suffering and sacrifice to come—as well as the glory. For us, as we reflect on our Lenten sacrifices and perhaps the times we’ve endured suffering in our lives, we can look to Jesus’ Transfiguration as the promise that gives us comfort and courage along the journey to Easter’s ultimate glory. This, in fact, is the central promise of our faith.

Faith is what inspires so many of our professional volunteers, whose work supporters like you make possible.

"Staying solid in my faith is one of those essential parts of my life," shares Debbie, a CMMB volunteer supporting CMMB’s child protection program in Zambia, "Whether I am home or 8,000 miles away, it is essential to the foundation of who I truly am. Faith is the rock that provides peace, courage, and a knowing that God has it all under control."

You can read more from Debbie and the path that led her to Zambia on our blog.

As we continue our Lenten journey, let us remember the peace, comfort, courage, and glory that Jesus promised to his disciples—it’s a promise that has been made to us, as well.

In grace and peace,

CMMB—Healthier Lives Worldwide

More thoughts on Lent

 Lent we know is about deepening intimacy with Jesus. In our Gospel coming up Sunday, Jesus invites Peter, James, and John into his prayer. What a gift! We too can be invited into Jesus' prayer, for he wants to show us his Father. The key is we have to listen. We must be still and listen. This is easier said than done however. Like Peter, we prefer to be doing something or building something. 

Hence our invitation this Lent is to just "be" with the Lord, to be still and know that he is God. This kind of trust, leaning Into the heart of God and trusting even when we don't feel consoling graces, pleases the heart of God greatly. We are loving the Giver more than the gifts. And in the depths of our being resound these same words, 'You are my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased." Let us please the heart of God this Lent by our focused listening.

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ