I received this today in my email, a 3 minute Easter video message of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa. I always love to listen to him and read his reflections, for they are the voice of courage and faith in the midst of darkness. Since we all share in the confusion and fear of the present turmoil, I thought to share with you his Easter message and his faith:
“We need to celebrate Easter because we need to announce with our life and our gestures that we belong to the powerful love of God in Jesus. Despite everything we need to keep testifying our our life, with what we are doing, what we are, how beautiful it is to live with Jesus, our Risen Land, here in our land. Don’t be afraid. The Love of God is more powerful than any sign of darkness.”
Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”
John 121-11
For 40 days of the sacred season of Lent, we have been renewing and purifying our hearts, practicing self-denial and imitating God in his kindness by sharing with those who are in need, practicing virtue and fasting, overturning what the Preface for the First Sunday of Lent calls, “all the snares of the ancient serpent.”
Today, as we step over the threshold into the holiest of weeks, we encounter Mary of Bethany, her sister Martha, and their brother Lazarus. The Church puts the breaks on our preparation so that we may turn our gaze to Jesus, so that we may learn to serve him, and love him, and console him, and surrender to him.
There is a silence and calm inside this little home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. Outside the crowds are milling about and the rumbling of trouble is growing louder because of the raising of Lazarus. Around the family table, instead, there is an emotional connection only found among friends. Step into Holy Week by stopping in the house of Bethany.
Martha is quietly providing for Jesus and his band of apostles. Unruffled by the demands placed on her as hostess, and also quietly confident in Jesus as the Resurrection and the Life, she finds a prayerful peace within her loving service of the Friend who has meant so much to her.
Mary breaks a jar of costly nard and anoints the feet of Jesus. She had purchased the perfume with all the resources she had. Drying her Lord’s feet, not with a towel, but with her hair, she gave to him all she was. Nard is a powerful fragrance used in preparation for burial. When applied to the skin or hair, its scent would fill an entire house and the aroma would remain for weeks. In a few days time, Jesus would be arrested, brought before the Sanhedrin, mocked and scourged and crowned with thorns, condemned by Pilate and crucified on Calvary. With every breath Jesus took, the fragrance of Mary’s anointing reminded him of her love for him. When he was alone in prison, when he sat on a mock throne and received the jeering of the guards who robed him in purple as they pressed thorns into his head, as he struggled and stumbled to Calvary, the scent of Mary’s loving gift of pure nard remained with him as a comfort. He knew he was not alone. Even as he died, he knew that she loved him, and that countless souls through history would, like Mary, seek to love and console him.
Lazarus, called out from the tomb four days after his death, sat beside Jesus. He knew that many were believing in Jesus now because of this miracle, and he realized that others wanted Jesus dead because of him. Perhaps he felt confused about what he should feel. Nevertheless, Lazarus remained at table with Jesus, staying near him, supporting him in any way he could.
So as you begin this Holy Week and you turn your gaze to Jesus, take a moment of peaceful prayer. Are you like Martha with her quiet service? Like Mary with her extravagant love? Like Lazarus, remaining near him? Or is there another way in which you are with Jesus this year as you enter Holy Week?
Lectio Divina is a way of listening to God as he speaks in his Word. It is a practice of communicating with God through Scripture and attending to God’s presence and what he wishes to tell us. In this slow and prayerful reading of the Word of God, we allow ourselves to be transformed by the Spirit who forms us into the image of Christ. There are four movements in Lectio Divina: Read (lectio), Meditate (meditation), Pray (oratio), Contemplate (contemplation).
Begin by finding a still space to pray. Breathe deeply and become quieter within. Abandon any agenda, worries or thoughts you bring to this prayer and entrust these things to the merciful care of God. Ask for the grace to be receptive to what God will speak to you through this Scripture reading. Grant me, Jesus Divine Master, to be able to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God and your unfathomable riches. Grant that your word penetrate my soul; guide my steps, and brighten my way till the day dawns and darkness dissipates, you who live and reign forever and ever Amen.
Read (lectio) Begin by slowly and meditatively reading your Scripture passage out loud. Listen for a particular word or phrase that speaks to you at this moment and sit with it for a time.
Pray (oratio) Read the text a third time. Listen for what God is saying to you. Speak heart to heart with God. Notice the feelings that this conversation with God raises up within you. Share with God what you notice about your response to this conversation. You may wish to return to repeating the phrase quietly and gently, allowing it to permeate you more and more deeply.
Contemplate (contemplatio) Read the text a final time. Now be still and rest in God’s embrace. Ask God to give you a gift to take with you from this prayer. You might ask God if he is inviting you to do some action, for instance, make some change in your thoughts, attitudes or reactions, in the way you speak or how you treat others. Thank God for this gift and invitation as you conclude your prayer.
“What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at it—we’re called children of God! That’s who we really are. But that’s also why the world doesn’t recognize us or take us seriously, because it has no idea who he is or what he’s up to. But friends, that’s exactly who we are: children of God” (1 John 3 MSG).
I want you to read again this translation of these verses in the First Letter of John. Read them slowly.
It is as if John the Evangelist, John who had laid his head on the heart of Christ at the last supper and listened to the love that beat in his Lord’s most sacred and divine Heart, was trying to find the words to convince us that we are God’s children. Certainly, we’ve heard that a billion times before: with baptism we become God’s children. Do we consider how BIG A DEAL this is? My niece and nephew often played fondly with children of their friends. But now that they have their own child, it is a different story altogether. This is THEIR CHILD.
You can’t help but notice the delight in their eyes when THEIR CHILD tries to smile. It is impossible not to see the concern over every wail from their five-week-old bundle of joy that is THEIR CHILD. The sacrifices of sleep, time, and freedom are acknowledged but willingly made for THEIR CHILD. My nephew said to me, “She’s just perfect!”
“Accept being loved”
I think it is interesting in this quote from John’s First Letter, “That’s who we really are. But that’s also why the world doesn’t recognize us or take us seriously, because it has no idea who he is or what he’s up to.”
Try reading this verse to yourself, but substitute “my mind” for “the world.” “My mind doesn’t recognize me as being a child of God or take this seriously, because it has no idea who God is or what God’s up to.”
As we grow into our toddler years and beyond, if not before, our interpretation of what is happening around us or to us begins to crowd out the reality of what is in its most given and true state. Mom is slightly late to answer me when I cry out and my mind begins to interpret the world as not safe, a place where my needs may not be met. Or maybe the one watching me at the playground is on the phone and doesn’t show interest when I call out to show them the new things I learned, and I interpret the world as a lonely place, where I may not be seen or important. Maybe my brothers or fellow schoolmates laugh at me, and I interpret this to mean that I have no worth….
Gradually as we enter our childhood and then adult years, it is our mind’s interpretation of who we think we are and what we can become that takes the drivers seat. We begin to “have no idea of who God is or what God’s up to” in our life. We forget that we are HIS CHILD WHO FILLS HIM WITH JOY.
One thing that will help you become the Child you are…
Ask the Holy Spirit to help you slow down enough to catch the thoughts you say to yourself about what things mean and who you are. Notice which type of thoughts make you feel happy, rested, trusting. And which thoughts depress, sadden, and frustrate you.
Make a list of each. At the beginning of the day visualize two or three things you know will happen that day and watch yourself internalizing the thoughts of a CHILD OF GOD. At the end of the day you can look briefly back at these same situations and notice where the other type of thoughts snuck in. Relive the situation in your mind at that point internalizing the attitudes and beliefs of a CHILD OF GOD.
“When Israel was only a child, I loved him. I called out, ‘My son!’—called him out of Egypt. I lifted him, like a baby, to my cheek, I bent down to feed him. (cf. Hosea 11:1, 4)
What keeps you up at night? What is in your heart that you wish you could share with someone who cares? In this Holy Thursday meditation, Jesus gathers you tightly into his embrace as he looks in to your eyes and says: “When will you give all this to me?”
Lord, you have searched me thoroughly. You know me….
This can be a scary thought. We want to be known, and seen, and loved, and respected. Not searched.
Later in the Psalm we learn how wonderful and loving is the one who knit us in our mother's womb. His "searching" eyes are there to see our slightest need for him. How wonderful he is in his care for us in all things….
This is a quiet meditation to bring to our inner space a sense of safety and trust.
Music by Petrushkasound from Pixabay
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife.
Mt. 1:16, 18-21, 24a
Mary and Joseph, two different “annunciations” from the angel, two different tasks in the mystery of salvation, two different paths to holiness, united in one love to hand themselves over to the work of the redemption being accomplished by God in Christ Jesus, Son of God and Son of the virgin Mary.
Joseph struggled when he discovered Mary was with child. Whether his anguish flowed from his feelings of unworthiness or from incomprehension of what was happening, the result was the same: he planned to dismiss Mary quietly. It was only the annunciation of the angel that put his heart at ease. Immediately upon awaking, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him and took Mary as his wife.
In our families and communities, each of us has a different role in the mystery of salvation. We are different personalities. We each follow the Spirit’s invitation, yet the full horizon of this call remains a secret to ourselves as much as it is an unknown to others. The way our place in the drama of salvation unfolds is gradual and often shrouded in mystery.
When I’m not quite getting someone I live with, I’d love for an angel to show up, even in a dream, and let me in on the details! How much easier it would be to respect people who are clashing with me if I could see the plan God was accomplishing through them. Actually Joseph, though he had an angelic visitation to resolve his doubts, was just told the next step God required of him and no more. For the rest he had trust the Providence of God and he needed to trust Mary.
Joseph teaches me how to take the next best step and to trust that God is working out something far beyond my wildest imagination. There are many “angels,” sometimes they show up as inspirations, a word from Scripture, a thoughtful comment from a friend, a combination of events that make the next step so abundantly clear it can’t be doubted. Trust, on the threshold of mystery, is always a risk and a choice. It is a determined turning away from the doubts and rationalizations of the past toward the possibilities and promises of a future rich with God’s presence.
Image Credit: Toros Roslin, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Praying with this Passage of Scripture
Lectio Divina is a way of listening to God as he speaks in his Word. It is a practice of communicating with God through Scripture and attending to God’s presence and what he wishes to tell us. In this slow and prayerful reading of the Word of God, we allow ourselves to be transformed by the Spirit who forms us into the image of Christ. There are four movements in Lectio Divina: Read (lectio), Meditate (meditation), Pray (oratio), Contemplate (contemplation).
Begin by finding a still space to pray. Breathe deeply and become quieter within. Abandon any agenda, worries or thoughts you bring to this prayer and entrust these things to the merciful care of God. Ask for the grace to be receptive to what God will speak to you through this Scripture reading. Grant me, Jesus Divine Master, to be able to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God and your unfathomable riches. Grant that your word penetrate my soul; guide my steps, and brighten my way till the day dawns and darkness dissipates, you who live and reign forever and ever Amen.
Read (lectio) Begin by slowly and meditatively reading your Scripture passage out loud. Listen for a particular word or phrase that speaks to you at this moment and sit with it for a time.
Pray (oratio) Read the text a third time. Listen for what God is saying to you. Speak heart to heart with God. Notice the feelings that this conversation with God raises up within you. Share with God what you notice about your response to this conversation. You may wish to return to repeating the phrase quietly and gently, allowing it to permeate you more and more deeply.
Contemplate (contemplatio) Read the text a final time. Now be still and rest in God’s embrace. Ask God to give you a gift to take with you from this prayer. You might ask God if he is inviting you to do some action, for instance, make some change in your thoughts, attitudes or reactions, in the way you speak or how you treat others. Thank God for this gift and invitation as you conclude your prayer.
Touching the Sunrise 