One of the most helpful books I’ve read is “Amazing Grace, a vocabulary of faith.” By Kathleen Norris. She describes it as “an exploration and record of some of the words in the Christian lexicon that most trouble and attract me.”
The book reminded me of an important Benedictine principle, that words matter. They shape us, form us, challenge us and help us grow.
Last year I made a Lent lexicon. This year I’m aiming to make an Eastertide one. I’ve chosen words that attract and sometimes scare me. They also both shape and challenge my experience of Eastertide.
I’m including words that are particularly connected to Eastertide, and words that, though they’re connected to other seasons might have a different resonance in this Eastertide.
After the high drama of Good Friday people often talk of Holy Saturday as a “tomb day”, a time to sit with the emptiness that follows death, to allow the events of Good Friday to sink in. I recognise the yearning for that and its wisdom. Yet, it’s not an experience I recognise from monastic life.
In practice, for many of us Holy Saturday is very much a hybrid day, we are aware of its emptiness, the mourning and the uncertainty. We also have to acknowledge that the Easter vigil is fast approaching and that Easter liturgies and treats do not plan themselves. So it is also a day of preparation and anticipation that can be very busy.
As we move through this hybrid day I’m reflecting on these words from the Lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah from this morning’s Office of Readings:
“The favours of the Lord are not all past, nor his kindnesses exhausted; every morning they are renewed: great is his faithfulness. My portion is with the Lord says my soul, and so I will hope in him.”
Even in the midst of his lamentation Jeremiah is able to acknowledge the kindness and faithfulness of God, and to put his hope in that. His words speak to me of the hybrid reality of the day. It seems to me that the emptiness of Holy Saturday calls us to imitate God’s kindness to others as we get on with the many preparations for Easter, and to ourselves as we seek small moments of quiet during the day.
In the emptiness of Holy Saturday where are you aware of the Lord renewing your capacity for kindness?
Today celebrating the feast of the Annunciation I’m struck by the mixture of calm, serenity, and chaos that it portrays. It’s generally depicted in art and literature as a beautiful moment of calm encounter between Gabriel and Mary, between heaven and earth, leading to Mary’s act of obedience.
That is certainly one aspect of the gospel, but as I reflected on it today I’m very aware that there is also another side to it. The news the angel brings to Mary must have been both surprising and overwhelming to a young, unmarried woman who was not expecting to become pregnant.
It must have seemed to her that she was facing at best a challenge and at worst a disaster. Yet in the midst of the upheaval she was able to find a way through the chaos to say yes. I’m especially struck by the angel’s response when she asks, “How can this be?” He replies:
“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you…”
His words take me back to the Spirit hovering over the waters at Creation drawing life out of chaos. That’s a comforting image image in these times when so much of our world seems to teeter on the brink of chaos.
In our dark and frightening times this image offers hope and encouragement. I find it helpful to remember that however chaotic our situation the Spirit hovers, overshadowing us and promising new life.
Where do you need the Spirit’s overshadowing in your life this Lent?
This week I’m reflecting on the blessing of welcoming. I’m aware of how often we’re called to recognise Christ by welcoming what we consider marginal. We see that in today’s gospel. It’s a man who is outcast, ignored and undervalued who recognises and proclaims Christ to his people.
He is the last person anyone would have expected to speak and reflect theologically. We see this in the response of his neighbours, who no longer recognise him, and in the Pharisees who refuse to accept someone so marginal can presume to teach them anything about God.
The man doesn’t crumble under their badgering questions, instead he faces them confidently, reflecting on his experience with Jesus in the light of his Jewish faith, saying to them:
“We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners, but God does listen to people who are devout and do his will. Ever since the world began it is unheard-of for anyone to open the eyes of someone who was born blind: if this man were not from God he couldn’t do a thing.”
As the man moves from claiming that he only knows Jesus’ name to proclaiming and worshipping him as Christ he welcomes him with a truly open heart. It may be that his marginal position helped him to recognise Jesus as the Christ, and give him the freedom to worship him.
This gospel challenges me to be attentive to those parts of myself that I push aside, allowing them to point me towards Christ in ways that I might not expect or be entirely comfortable with.
It also challenges me to be attentive to the people we marginalise today, leaving me with an uncomfortable question, would we respond any better than the Pharisees should any of them proclaim Christ to us?
How is Christ calling you welcome the marginal in your life today?
Today’s gospel presents a stark contrast between two men who have gone up to the temple to pray. The first is a Pharisee, the second a tax collector. The Pharisee is confident and sure of himself. He is aware of his position in the community and in his faith.
He is certain that his religious practices place him in good standing with God. He expects his prayers to be heard and responded to. He is completely unaware of any sin or failing in himself or his life
The tax collector, on the other hand, is all too aware that his job makes him a bit of an outcast in his community. He knows that it leaves him in situations that can sometimes be morally ambiguous. Unlike the Pharisee, he comes to prayer all too aware of his failings and his sin saying:
“God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
Jesus is very clear that it was the tax collector, who knew his failings and his need of God who went home at right with God.
In telling the story to an audience that is sure of its virtue Jesus is presenting a challenge. He’s inviting them, and us, to develop a new attentiveness. He is challenging us to look beyond the surface of our religious practices.
He is asking us to be attentive to how those practices enable us to develop a more compassionate and kind heart.
How are your lent practices helping you to grow in compassion and kindness?
As I’ve reflected this week on the blessing of BEGINNING. I’ve been struck by the sheer variety of reasons there are for making beginnings. Some are forced on us by circumstances beyond our control.
Others are made freely and willingly because we feel the need for change. Whether our beginnings are caused by necessity or inspired by dreams and desires they often seem to grow from an awareness of neediness. With this in mind I turned to today’s gospel and was struck by this:
“Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Ask, and it will be given to you, search and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.’”
It’s one of the most hopeful, and challenging verses of Scripture. The hope lies in the promise of needs met and an openhearted welcome. The challenge is to admit our neediness, to confess that we have needs and desires that we are incapable of fulfilling by ourselves. That can be a hard thing to do in our society that expects us to be high achievers in every area of life.
The gospel offers an alternative view. Instead of seeing neediness as a failure today’s gospel offers us the opportunity to see it as a new beginning, an invitation to openness and honesty.
Today’s gospel offers us is the opportunity to come into the presence of Christ with all our failings, uncertainties and incompleteness. It promises us that in accepting the blessing this new beginning offers we will find ourselves welcomed into the loving heart of Christ.
What do you most need to receive from the loving heart of Christ this Lent?
Ash Wednesday always feels like a wake up call. It reminds us of how far we have slipped in our intention to live as people of God, how far we have moved from the values of the Kingdom that we’re called to make a reality. Watching all that is going on in our world today, that wake-up call seems even more urgent than usual. It makes the words of the Prophet Joel that we heard at Mass seem particularly relevant.
“Now, now – it is the Lord who speaks – come back to me with all your heart, fasting, weeping, mourning. Let your hearts be broken, not your garments torn, turn to the Lord your God again, for God is all tenderness and compassion…”
His words seem to sum up both what we are going through and what we need to do to about it. Our world once again seems full of suffering. Everywhere we look we discover the heartbreak that is always part of war.
The suffering already seems endless and insurmountable. We can very quickly begin to feel hopeless, numbed by the pain and unable to act.
In these circumstances it seems to me that our first and most important step is to turn back to God with our broken hearts and broken lives, seeking compassion and forgiveness for ourselves and for one another.
Maybe then, knowing ourselves ourselves the recipients of God’s healing compassion we will be able to find ways of sharing that compassionate love with all who are broken hearted today.
As we start our journey through Lent what heartbreak are you being called to bring into the compassionate love of God?
Today were celebrating the feast of the Presentation. It strikes me as a feast that looks both backwards and forwards. Its liturgy resonates very much with the Christmas liturgy, as we revisit Christmas hymns and antiphons. Yet, it also compels us to look forward to the new beginning heralded by the coming of the Messiah.
Like Simeon and Anna, we are called to draw hope from our heritage and move forward into the unknown bearing the light of Christ for our world and our times. The second reading at the vigil is from St Sophronius. I’m reflecting on these words:
“Let us all go together bright with the light to welcome with old Simeon that everlasting shining light. Rejoicing with him in our souls, let us sing a hymn to the Begetter and Father of the light, who has sent the true light and driven away the darkness and made us all shine with that light.”
It’s not the first time I’ve reflected on them, and each time I revisit them they remind me that, in these last dark, cold days of winter we are called to be bearers of the light of Christ to each other and to the world. This year I’m very aware of the many darknesses that the world faces. It can feel overwhelming and we can easily feel hopeless.
Yet the opposite is true. In these dark times it’s even more important that we become bearers of that light for our suffering world. As well as looking back to the coming of the Light at Christmas I find myself looking forward through the pain and suffering of these times to the new light and life that Easter promises, trusting that, however small the light may sometimes feel, it will not be overcome.
As we celebrate the feast of the Presentation where is Christ calling you to be his light bearer today?
Today’s readings are about call and response. Isaiah and St Paul reflect on their call to take the good news of salvation to the ends of the earth. In the gospel John recognises Jesus in the crowd and proclaims him as the Messiah. Reflecting on their accounts inevitably draws us back to reflect on our own call:
“I will make you the light of the nations so that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”
Isaiah, St Paul and St John all heard and responded to some version of this call. Their responses may have looked different on the surface, and led them in apparently different directions. This shouldn’t come as a surprise because they lived in different times, faced different situations and had different personalities and skills. This meant that they each had to spend time reflecting on what it meant for them to become “the light to the nations” in their particular situations.
Through baptism we are also called by God to be “a light to the nations”. While the heart of that call is the same as the one heard by Isaiah, St Paul and St John the practicalities of what it will look like in the particular challenges we face today are different. So today’s readings are a call to discern how to I can best bring the light of Christ love to people today in ways that will lighten their burdens and offer consolation.
How are you being called to bring the light of Christ’s love to the people around you today?
Today’s gospel, the parable of the unjust judge, speaks so powerfully to our current situation that it could have been just written. Jesus tells his disciples the story of a judge who is refusing to give justice to a widow. However often the persistent widow is ignored or turned away she comes back, insisting on the justice that is her right. Eventually, the judge surrenders saying:
“Maybe I have neither fear of God nor respect for man, but since she keeps pestering me I must give this widow her just rights, or she will persist in coming and worry me to death.”
Looking around our world, there are so many awful situations that we can do little to change, that we might be tempted to give up. We can be tempted to surrender and hopelessness, so even praying begins to feel pointless and useless.
Jesus uses this parable to see the exact opposite. He reminds his disciples, and does, that rather than surrendering to hopelessness, these are precisely the situations where we need to persevere in prayer and hope:
“Jesus told his disciples a parable about the need to pray continually and never lose heart.”
There are so many painful situations in our world that seem unresolvable. There are so many places where cruelty and exclusion seem to be overwhelming our impulses to goodness and kindness. In all the pain and suffering of these circumstances Jesus challenges us to persevere. He calls us keep on speaking up for justice, fairness, kindness and compassion.
He challenges us to continually remind ourselves and others that all human beings of equal value in the sight of God. Most of all he reminds us to underpin all of our actions in these areas with constant and persistent prayer.
Where are you being called to continual prayer today?
