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Heading Into The Tomb

During the season of Lent, we are acutely aware of death, it seems. The readings seem to have a sense of foreboding to them; we know we are getting closer and closer to Good Friday. In some of our churches, the holy water fonts are empty. The decor changes: instead of fresh flowers, there are cacti or simple, empty pots or even stones. We limit our feasting; we are on watch for death. We are, in a sense, headed for the tomb.

Catholic writer Heather King, in her book Redeemed: Stumbling Towards God, said this,

… I remember a homily that Father Jarlath at St. Thomas the Apostle once gave about the time Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead: he said we all have things in us that are from the tomb – old rotting resentments, griefs, sorrows – and when it is time to look at them, it’s a good idea to bring Jesus in with us.

Lent is about heading into the tomb. It is certainly about Christ’s Passion, Death and Resurrection (the Paschal Mystery, the Church calls it) but it’s also about acknowledging our own tomb. As King puts it, we all have that place in us where things are left to die. Maybe it’s a relationship that should have been mended a long time ago. Perhaps what is dying in us is our faith; life has worn us down and we wonder if God has forgotten us. Our tomb may be a place where we struggle with an addiction; we’ve buried our true self behind the rocks of alcohol or drugs or pornography.

Many people choose to remain in their tombs. They become embittered, they lose faith, they “die,” in a way. Some of us want to get out, but we don’t know how. After all, who can roll that huge stone out of the way so that light can stream in?

The only way out of the tomb is through Christ. He alone has conquered death and sin. He alone can raise us – as He did for Lazarus – from the grave. For some of us, it may be a matter of simply recognizing this and falling to our knees in thanksgiving. The vast majority of us need the Sacrament of Reconciliation to acknowledge our own sinful part of the tomb. And some of us will need professional help (a psychologist, a spiritual director) in order to sort out how we ended up in the tomb and how we can live our lives outside that tomb.

In John 11, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. When Lazarus’ sister Martha expresses some doubt about Jesus command to remove the stone from the tomb’s entrance, He says, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?”

A tomb can be a frightening place. But if we bring Christ with us, we will see the glory of God. Jesus promised us, and so it will be.

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Radical Prayer

St. Ignatius of Loyola founded the Society of Jesus, better known as the Jesuits. (Pope Francis is a Jesuit priest.) The order is known for its great scholarship and truly brave priests. While many Jesuits teach, the Jesuit order is, at its heart, a missionary order, charged with taking the Gospel to those who do not know it.

The Jesuits owe much of their spirit and calling to their founder. St. Ignatius was a Spanish soldier from a noble family. As a young man he dreamed of great deeds as a knight, but injuries forced him to abandon this. While recuperating, he began to deeply contemplate what God wanted of him.

One of the prayers St. Ignatius left us is called the Suscipe, or the Radical Prayer:

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding,
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.

You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

No wonder it’s called the “Radical Prayer!” What a scary thought: that one should turn over everything to God! My free will, my memory … everything? Pray that I abandon my wants, desires and dreams for the will of God? Doesn’t that seem, well, just a little … crazy?

Perhaps. Lent is a good time to meditate on this prayer, even if one is not quite ready to pray it in earnest. We are Christians, after all: we bear the name of Christ because we choose to follow Him. And following Christ means a radical choice: picking up our cross, going wherever He sends us, becoming fishers of men.

St. Ignatius’ prayer acknowledges a simple truth: everything we have belongs to God. All the prayer says is, “I know that all I am is because of You, God. I want to use what You’ve given me, what You’ve made me, to do what You have planned for me.”

Even if we are not quite ready to pray this radical prayer, Lent is a good time to start asking God to lead you to it. What do you have planned for me, God? What is your will for me? How can I give everything to You, God?

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Walking On Holy Ground

For the third Sunday of Lent, the first reading proclaims the story of Moses encountering God in the burning bush. At first, Moses can’t make sense of what he’s seeing: a bush on fire but not being consumed by the flames. As he approaches, the voice of God cries out, and tells Moses to remove his sandals, for he is on holy ground.

Holy ground. A sacred place. The place where God is. Have you encountered that?

Every time we walk into a Catholic church, we are on holy ground. It is holy for one reason and one only: God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – resides there.

At every Mass, every day, around the world, Jesus is present in the Eucharist: Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. He is just as present at Mass as He is in Heaven. (Don’t try to wrap your head around that; it’s a mystery.) And since – in most churches – Jesus’ Body is kept in reserve in the tabernacle, Jesus is always there.

2,000 years ago, Jesus walked among the Jewish people. He taught and preached. He worked alongside his foster father, Joseph. He laughed and wept with his friends. He suffered and died. He conquered death. And every time we enter the doors of a Catholic church, Jesus is just as present there as He was on earth, 2.000 years ago. We truly are on holy ground.

That means we need to take care of how we enter, occupy and take leave of a Catholic church. When we enter, we bless ourselves with holy water and the sign of the cross. This reminds us of our baptism. We approach the altar with reverence, and genuflect towards the tabernacle (that is where Christ’s Body resides.) If the tabernacle is in a separate chapel, then we express our reverence by bowing towards the altar itself. We do the same when we leave. In between, we are reverent, respectful of God’s presence.

As we continue through the season of Lent, let us resolve to be mindful of the sacredness of our parish church, however humble or grand that building might be. It is holy ground.

 

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The Courage of Lent

It is common for children, in their desire to be pious and good, to begin Lent with a long list of “give ups:” “I’m gonna give up candy, and I’m gonna give up TV and I’m gonna give up arguing with my sister…” Adults chuckle, knowing that the child underestimates the stamina and courage that Lent requires.

In Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, Atticus Finch, the lawyer-father who chooses to defend a black man in the Jim Crow South against the charge of rape, has to explain to his son what “courage” is, as the town divides over the black man’s trial:

I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.

In a sense, we are all losers – we are sinners in need of God’s grace and redemption. If we look to the lives of saints, men and women who are holy inspiration, we often see a bunch of “losers:”

  • Joan of Arc, burned at the stake as a heretic
  • Lawrence, burned in an iron grill by the Prefect of Rome
  • Margaret of Castello, deformed, rejected by her parents and forced to beg
  • Solanus Casey, ordained a priest, but told by his superiors that he could not preach or hear confessions due to his poor scholarship

We can go on. In fact, as Christians, the one whose name we claim, Christ Jesus, was a failure to most who knew him. He did not become king of the Jews, overthrowing the Romans. He was executed in the most horrific and shameful fashion. He went into the Passion knowing that this terrible cup would not pass from Him.

On that horrible Good Friday, the men of courage appeared to be the government officials, the soldiers with whips and chains, the religious leaders who failed to see God in their midst. We know, however, that courage hung on the Cross. “Real courage,” as Atticus Finch told his son, is doing what is right, what it good, even if you know you’ll “lose” in the eyes of the world.

As we continue on our Lenten journey, we must be courageous. We must continue to act with mercy and love, especially when we do not feel like it. We must pray even more fervently. We must see Lent through, courageously.

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Will You Transform Your Heart This Lent?

What will it take to transform your heart this Lent? Pope Francis, in his 2016 Lenten message to the Universal Church, tells us that – in the eternal love story that is God – mercy will transform our hearts.

God’s mercy transforms human hearts; it enables us, through the experience of a faithful love, to become merciful in turn. In an ever new miracle, divine mercy shines forth in our lives, inspiring each of us to love our neighbour and to devote ourselves to what the Church’s tradition calls the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. These works remind us that faith finds expression in concrete everyday actions meant to help our neighbours in body and spirit: by feeding, visiting, comforting and instructing them. On such things will we be judged. For this reason, I expressed my hope that “the Christian people may reflect on the corporal and spiritual works of mercy; this will be a way to reawaken our conscience, too often grown dull in the face of poverty, and to enter more deeply into the heart of the Gospel where the poor have a special experience of God’s mercy”. For in the poor, the flesh of Christ “becomes visible in the flesh of the tortured, the crushed, the scourged, the malnourished, and the exiled… to be acknowledged, touched, and cared for by us”. It is the unprecedented and scandalous mystery of the extension in time of the suffering of the Innocent Lamb, the burning bush of gratuitous love. Before this love, we can, like Moses, take off our sandals (cf. Ex 3:5), especially when the poor are our brothers or sisters in Christ who are suffering for their faith.

“Scandalous mystery:” what a profound phrase! The mystery and scandal are that Christ – the God-Man, who knew no sin – died for our sins with “gratuitous love.” We could spend all of Lent just meditating on that alone!

It is God’s mercy that transforms us. Yet, this is not a passive event; we must cooperate with God. We must do our part to become more loving, more merciful, to never grow “dull,” as the Holy Father says, in the face of another’s suffering.

What will transform your heart this Lent? In this Year of Mercy, let us all contemplate God’s mercy and how we can experience and share this tremendous gift.

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Spending Time With The Suffering Servant

We know it’s a good idea to spend time during Lent reading and meditating over Scripture. But that can be overwhelming: where does one start? Is there one Biblical book that is “better” than another for Lent? What does it mean to “meditate on Scripture” anyway? Let’s take a look at the book of Isaiah, and the verses that refer to the Suffering Servant.

Even if the “Suffering Servant” doesn’t sound familiar to you, you will recognize the chapters of Isaiah that refer to him:

Here is my servant whom I uphold,
my chosen one with whom I am pleased.
Upon him I have put my spirit;
he shall bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry out, nor shout,
nor make his voice heard in the street.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench.
He will faithfully bring forth justice. (Is. 42:1-3)

The Jewish listeners of this passage would recognize that Isaiah, the prophet, was referring to the Messiah, the Promised One of God, the One who would redeem humanity and save the nation of Israel. As Christians, we understand that Isaiah is foretelling the mission of Christ.

Of course, many Jews believed that the Messiah would be an earthly king, a man who would free Israel from the oppression of the Roman Empire. Yet, God’s plan would be that Emmanuel, God-With-Us, would be a servant, an example of mercy, love and justice, one who would wash the feet of his followers.

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) offers a wonderful study of the Suffering Servant passages in Isaiah. You can find it here. Why not spend some time learning more about the Suffering Servant this Lent?

Take nothing with you
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Take Nothing With You This Lent

In Luke, chapter 9, Jesus sends the twelve apostles on a mission. They had been given authority over demons, the ability to cure illness, and are to preach the Good News.

Now, this is a tall order. Even knowing that it is the Messiah who has given them these abilities, and that He has done all these things Himself in their presence, one would think the apostles might still be a bit, well, nervous. To say the least.

Then Jesus adds this: “Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic.”

“Take nothing for the journey.” Most of us can’t even go away for the weekend without two suitcases. Luke does not disclose what the apostles were thinking at this point, but one might imagine something like this: “What?? We can’t even take any food? This is crazy!”

And in one sense, it is. In other places in Scripture, those who plan well are held in high esteem. In our way of thinking, it is foolish to head off on a journey ill-prepared.

But this is not our way; it is God’s. And while God’s way is always perfect, sometimes it looks a little crazy to us.

Imagine, God gives the responsibility of parenthood to a mother and father who are self-centered, immature, and who believe they are prepared because they’ve read some books.

God sent His people into the desert from Egypt, freeing them from slavery. Then He let them wander for 40 years, with virtually nothing.

A family gathers around the bedside of a dying parent, not yet ready to see that person go. They aren’t prepared for this next phase of their family’s life.

The Messiah Himself was born, not in grandeur, surrounded by all the lovely niceties a Prince should have, but in a stable. With hay. And some scraps of cloth.

Our Lenten journey is just beginning. Might God be calling us to begin with nothing, to trust wholly in Him this Lent? We may be burdened by belongings; clean house, literally! Perhaps we are weighed down by sin; go to Confession! Maybe our burden is an old wound with a friend or family member; now is the time to reach out and make amends.

Despite any misgivings the Twelve had, off they went, obedient to the Master. Let us do the same this Lent.

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Simple Lenten Offerings

At CatholicLink, Luisa Restrepo has put together a list of 25 Simple Offerings to make this Lent a time to grow closer to Christ.

For instance: be joyful at work. Yup, every day. Joy is a virtue, so cultivate it.

Or you might try only buying what is necessary. Stay away from the mall, online shopping and the book store.

Don’t be negative on social media. Don’t give into the trolls, don’t be snarky, don’t be uncharitable.

Our Lenten sacrifices aren’t about “giving up” a bad habit just for the sake of gritting our teeth and getting through the next 40 days. It’s about becoming more like Christ. We are meant to be saints, so let’s get a bit closer to sainthood this Lent.

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Giving Up Mercilessness for Lent

Here we are: on the cusp of Lent. Many of us are pondering what to “give up”. There are the obvious choices: sweets, a bad habit, caffeine.

We must ask ourselves, however: will this really sanctify me? This is the purpose of Lent – to bring us closer to God, to make us holier. If we give up a bad habit, only to pick it right back again at Easter, does this help sanctify us?

We know this is the Year of Mercy. Pope Francis has done us a great favor by proclaiming this year. It gives us the opportunity to study and meditate upon what may be God’s greatest attribute: his merciful love for us.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this Lent, what we are meant to give up is mercilessness. From Fr. James V. Schall, S.J.

Mercy is the forgiveness of what need not or ought not to be forgiven. Indeed, mercy follows after, not before, both forgiveness and punishment. Mercy was never designed to minimize the heinousness of sins or to eliminate their possibility. It was meant to affirm their disorder. But their disorder did not prevent God from forgetting them to allow us to begin anew. Thus, God does not just “forgive” sins because He is merciful. He forgives them in the context of our realizing and acknowledging their disorder. Mercy is designed to encourage virtue, not to undermine it…

Mercy, paradoxically, can, if we are careless, become merciless. How so? Suppose an all-merciful God forgives all sins, whether repented or not. Everybody thus saves his soul automatically. We do not have to worry about what we do. The “merciful” God has already taken care of us whatever we do. Notice: no input on our part is required. God’s merciful love is said to be unrestricted. It is not limited by the distinction of good and evil.

A child would say, “But that’s not fair!” No, it’s not. For God to forgive everything, whether or not we repented, would be unjust. And God is always just. Mercy requires justice.

Think of it this way. A criminal is brought before a judge. The judge simply says, “There is no penalty for your crime. You are free.” Where is the justice for the victim? Where is the justice for the criminal? That criminal would have no opportunity to repent, to pay for his or her crime, to make restitution.

We cannot be careless with mercy. God is not. God is always merciful, but He is also just. This Lent, spend time meditating upon mercy: mercy in your home, at your workplace, in your heart. Am I careless with mercy? Where do I lack true justice and mercy?

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A Practical Pilgrimage

Let’s face it: most of us are not going to be able to jet off to Lourdes or Fatima this Lent, if ever. While our hearts might yearn for a pilgrimage to a well-known place, our wallets are thinking groceries and car payments. So where does that leave us?

I suggest a practical pilgrimage. What do I mean by that? The main reason for going on a pilgrimage is to seek the holy, to grow closer to Christ by encountering Him in a new way. But a pilgrimage also means a journey – you have to move through time and space. That movement is important: it gives us time to process, to slow down, to notice, to contemplate.

Back to the idea of a practical pilgrimage. This is a great thing to involve the family, but you could also invite a friend or head out on your own. Choose a church near you that you’ve never been to, maybe one that has some historical significance or really great architecture. Try to attend Mass there. This is also a great way to introduce kids to the idea of the universal church. (If Mass isn’t an option, just spend some time in reflection. You might also check on confession times if Mass is not possible.)

Take a few minutes to quietly walk around the church’s interior. Maybe you can pray the Stations of the Cross. If the church is named after a saint, take a few minutes to pray for his or her intercession (and if it’s a saint you are not familiar with, learn about that person. Make a new friend!)

When you’re planning your church visit, look for a nearby park. Pack a picnic lunch and put away your cell phones and tablets. Spend time enjoying God’s creation and the companionship of the people you’re with. Take time to talk about the things, events and people that prompted you to think about “holiness” (maybe it was a particular hymn during Mass or flowers in the park.)

And if getting out of the house isn’t an option for whatever reason, make a Virtual Pilgrimage. Here are some beautiful virtual tours of churches and shrines around the world.

A pilgrimage does not have to be a far-flung journey. If we do a little praying and planning, we can find God quite close to us … and isn’t that the whole point of a pilgrimage?

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Lent 101 Infographic

Not sure what Lent is all about? Maybe Ash Wednesday has raised some questions around the water cooler. Perhaps you’re trying to find a way to help a child, a godchild or a grandchild understand the Lenten season and Catholic traditions. This infographic from National Catholic Educators’ Association should help.

 

Lent 101 inforgraphic

 

 

a movie pilgrimage
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A Movie Pilgrimage

 

One of the most famous pilgrimages in the world is El Camino de Santiago (the Way of St. James) in Spain. The pilgrimage itself can be up to 500 miles long, traveled on foot, winding through Spain and other countries, depending on the route chosen. It ends in Santiago de Compostela, reportedly the tomb of the Apostle, St. James.

If you’re not able to drop everything and hike 500 miles through Europe, why not make a movie pilgrimage? The 2010 movie, “The Way” (rated PG-13) tells the story of Tom, (played by Martin Sheen) who is trying to cope with the death of his son, Daniel (Emilio Estevez). Tom and Daniel’s relationship had been strained; Tom didn’t “get” his free-wheeling, go-with-the-flow child. When Daniel dies on the El Camino de Santiago, Tom decides to finish the pilgrimage his son began.

Written and directed by Estevez, the movie is not only about the relationship between the father and son (with allusions to the Prodigal Son) and the pilgrimage, but about mending broken relationships and discovering deep truths in places and ways one would not expect.

One feature of this movie that I really like is that it’s not “preachy.” It doesn’t hit you over the head with “Christian themes” or have characters spouting Bible verses to each other. No, instead it tells a story (several, in fact) and draws the reader into the spiritual wounds and salves that the pilgrims encounter – just as if you were a pilgrim alongside them.

Because it’s PG-13, parents will want to watch it before sharing with kids, but I believe this film lends itself well to discussions with teens and young adults. The portrayals of the pilgrims are realistic; they each have a reason for being on the way, each seeking something different – and finding answers they did not expect.

“The Way” is a terrific way to enjoy a Lenten evening, allowing the viewer to make a pilgrimage from the comfort of the couch while still pondering how to encounter God in our journey towards Easter.