Easter Triduum, April 6-8, 2023

1. We must be careful these days not to caricature the Jewish faith. The Gospels portray its piety and leaders in a very unsympathetic light. Don't become an unconscious anti-Semite. Such bashing of the Jews can reveal an insecure faith, seeking assurance in caricaturing the faith of others. Jewish people suffered their worst pogroms during Holy Week at the hands of Christians. So, we need to be careful of subtle forms of anti-Semitism.

2. We must be careful to respect the integrity of each Gospel. Don't harmonize or fill in to make a composite picture. Stay within the text and treat it distinctively, learn how each writer saw and witnessed the Christ event.

For example, notice that no one gospel has all seven phrases of the "Last Words":

"Seven Last Words of Jesus" in the four gospel accounts of The Passion

Mark: My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

Matthew: My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

Luke: Father forgive them; they don't know what they are doing.

Today you shall be with me in Paradise.

Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.

John: Woman, here is your son. Here is your mother.

I thirst.

It is finished.

3. Remember that the principal actor is God. There are some key figures in the stories for meditation (Peter, Pilate, etc.), but in the Gospels this week Jesus absorbs our attention. Put aside all else, even the "moral lessons." We see nothing but Jesus, and him crucified. What is God doing and saying to us this week?

4. The Triduum is a unity: this contradicts the conventional wisdom that sees each day as a separate unit. Note that in each day of the Triduum there is explicit reference to the whole paschal liturgy. Each particular day commemorates the whole of the mystery, while at the same time emphasizing one aspect of the events. So we experience Good Friday in its defeat and pain in the light of the hope of the resurrection; we experience Easter in its glory, reminded of the seeming hopelessness of Good Friday. The renewed emphasis isn't on "holy week" but on the consciousness of the passion and resurrection as intimately bound to our own lives as church.

5. I want to be careful how I think about suffering and death during these days. I wonder how we can think of them as positive? In the Scriptures of the Jewish people, suffering and death are to be avoided and, where possible, alleviated. The hope we have as Christians is that God will do away with both at the end. It seems to be always the poor who suffer the most, who always are the victims. So, during these days we might resolve to become more fully involved with God's plan to alleviate suffering by alleviating the suffering of the poor through deeper involvement in social programs. Good Friday, for example, should not be a day that keeps a silence of inattention to the suffering of others. If we keep a silence this day, it may be to ponder the suffering of those around us and to resolve to do something about it. If we fast, or partially fast this day, it might be to do so in solidarity with those who have too little to eat, using whatever we did not spend a give it away to someone in need, or to an organization that helps feed the poor.

Palm Sunday, April 2, 2023

Reflections and Meditations for Holy Week / the gift of Christ’s last days

Opening Prayer

Help me to fix my gaze on you throughout this Holy Week. Help me to walk closely with you and accompany you in your last days on this earth. This has been a long and arduous journey for you, Lord. Did you think things would end up this way? Did life go the way you planned? Help me to face my challenges with courage and help me to remain faithful to your word and believe in your promises. Give me strength for this life’s journey, and give me compassion for those on their own difficult journeys. Be with me, Lord, when I am afraid or weary.

Companions for the Journey

This is a homily delivered by Deacon John Kerrigan on Good Friday 2018:

What would be a crucifixion for me? To feel that I’m absolutely alone, that nobody cared for or wanted me, that it really didn’t matter to anyone whether I lived or died.

About five years ago, I received an email from a former work acquaintance. Her name was Alice and she lived on the east coast. Alice’s note had a frantic tone to it: her son, Chris, enrolled in college in the Bay Area, was failing out of school. Furthermore, he had refused to meet with his academic advisor and stopped attending his therapy sessions. Alice asked if I would meet with Chris; I readily agreed. I sent her son a brief text introducing myself. His reply was hardly encouraging. “What do you want from me?” he wrote. After a few more emails back and forth, he agreed to meet.

In my first face-to-face encounter with Chris, I sensed that he was exceptionally paranoid and obscenely angry. Think for a moment about J.D. Salinger’s Holden Caulfield in “Catcher in the Rye” and, then, multiply that character’s cynicism by ten and you’ll start to get a picture of Chris. As we spoke, I quickly learned about his former friends, former girlfriend, and former stellar grades. I also learned about his current struggle with the prescription drug Adderall. Over time, I realized that Chris was experiencing the crucifixion of feeling entirely alone. In his mind, no one cared about him; he also had convinced himself that he could care less about anyone else.

During the course of subsequent meetings, I simply listened to Chris and allowed him to vent. Ultimately, he decided to withdraw from school and move back east, primarily for economic reasons.

I saw Chris for the last time a few days before his departure and helped him move some boxes from his apartment to a place where they could be shipped back east. As I was about to leave, I handed Chris a hat from the Stanford golf course (just like this one), and told him that it might come in handy as he coped with the summer heat back home. As we said our goodbyes, Chris casually handed the hat back to me. I was confused and said, “Chris, this is a gift; it’s yours to keep.” He seemed genuinely surprised and said, “I thought you were joking. You mean I can keep it?” Whereupon, he put it on, and with a grin, said “thank you”. It was the first time that I had heard him speak those two words.

Now, why do I share the story with you? For two reasons, actually. First, because it reminds you and me that Calvary is not just a place nor is it a moment in time. Calvary comes to life whenever and wherever the body of Christ is scourged, stripped, broken, pierced. There is the Calvary of war and bigotry, the Calvary of persecution and poverty. There is the Calvary that dwells in every human heart, whenever we turn toward sin and away from Christ. There is the Calvary of young Chris being bound by the chains of despair and self-loathing. The miracle of Good Friday, though, is the realization that by God’s grace, Calvary isn’t the end of the story.

Second, I share the story about Chris so that we can spend a moment reflecting on the meaning of a “gift.” Gifts are something that are given freely. They can, however, be received or ignored by the person for whom they are intended. Chris’s outer shell was pretty hard; he had a difficulty receiving and accepting a gift, though he did eventually embrace my gesture of friendship.

It takes a certain humility to accept a gift and, more so, to accept that it is given freely by someone who thinks enough of us to give us that gift. This Good Friday we need to ask ourselves, “Are we willing to accept the gift of God’s unconditional love in our lives? Are you and I willing to stop making excuses for who we are and accept the fact that the person that God’s loves is the person that God made, you and me, just the way that we are?”

For a moment, let’s also ask ourselves, “Why do we call this Friday “Good?” Perhaps, because God used it to remind you and me that our humanity was something precious. After all, Jesus took on our flesh, he was born in the same way that you and I were born. I have no doubt that God could have worked out our salvation in many different ways. Instead, God decided to save us by taking on our flesh and pitching a tent among us. God became one of us because God wanted to experience what we experience and in the same way that we experience it. Recall for a moment, Paul’s letter to the Hebrews: “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.”

If you and I want to know the meaning of the word God, we need only look at the life, death and destiny of Jesus of Nazareth. Likewise, if you or I want to know what it means to be a human being, we need look no farther than Jesus of Nazareth. The fullness of humanity revealing the fullness of divinity is found in the gift of Jesus of Nazareth.

Which brings us back to God’s “gift” this somber day. In all of his ministry, through to the Last Supper and passion and death on a cross, Jesus is saying to us, ‘If you want to hold on to your life, if you try to preserve it, if you grasp it and will not let it go, you will lose it. But, if you give your life away, if you hand it over, if you are willing to die, you will discover that you cannot run out of life.’ Hold onto life, you lose it; give it away and life becomes everlasting.

Good Friday reminds you and me that we will lose what we hold onto and can never run out of what we freely give away.

Let’s apply this principle to our education and work lives as well. You and I may believe that our schooling and careers are gifts given to us to be grasped, prizes that we have achieved and strive to hold on to so as to advance in our professions or to make more money and provide for our family. And, actually, these are fine outcomes. However, if we think that these outcomes are all that our education and work lives are about, then perhaps we are unworthy of both. For the real reason for our education and life of work is to give us a greater ability to serve others.

We never truly grasp the full fruits of our education and work until we give them away to others. The measure of our success is the degree to which people who never came to Stanford or set foot in Silicon Valley experience lives that are richer, fuller, more genuinely human because you did go to Stanford or you do work in Silicon Valley.

On Good Friday, Jesus gave everything, until there was nothing left to give – “Father, I hand myself over to you. It is finished.” To be able to give away everything is what all of us are in training to do, from the moment of our baptism. And in doing so, becoming a little more human. And in becoming a little more human, we become genuinely holy.

A few weeks ago, I spoke with Chris and his mother. Though the road’s been bumpy, he’s navigating life much better. But, to one degree or another, isn’t life a bumpy road for you and me also. Alice did tell me, though, that the hat that I gave him as a token of our brief friendship is now threadbare from wear; that fact pleased me greatly.

Thanks to the gift of the Incarnation, you, I and God have one thing in common—we’re all human. Therefore, if we wish to be like God, let’s set our minds and hearts on being more human. And the way to be more human is to help others to be more human. To give yourself away.

To discover that fact is to discover everything that is important in the Christian tradition. That is the gift that has been given to us this day. Give it away!

Reflection and Discussion

This iteration of Sunday’s Gospel is divided so that if groups are meeting to meditate on the readings, several readers can participate and take turns. In addition, there are four pieces of music as interludes between every other section; these pauses can also be for quiet meditation of discussion. This is also usable for private reflection during Holy Week.

Matthew 26:14–27:66

(Reader 1)

Then one of the Twelve, the man called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, ‘What are you prepared to give me if I hand him over to you?’ They paid him thirty silver pieces, and from then onwards he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. Now on the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus to say, ‘Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?’ He said, ‘Go to a certain man in the city and say to him, “The Master says: My time is near. It is at your house that I am keeping Passover with my disciples.” ‘ The disciples did what Jesus told them and prepared the Passover. When evening came he was at table with the Twelve. And while they were eating he said, ‘In truth I tell you, one of you is about to betray me.’ They were greatly distressed and started asking him in turn, ‘Not me, Lord, surely?’ He answered, ‘Someone who has dipped his hand into the dish with me will betray me. The Son of man is going to his fate, as the scriptures say he will, but alas for that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! Better for that man if he had never been born!’ Judas, who was to betray him, asked in his turn, ‘Not me, Rabbi, surely?’ Jesus answered, ‘It is you who say it.’ Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had said the blessing he broke it and gave it to the disciples. ‘Take it and eat,’ he said, ‘this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he handed it to them saying, ‘Drink from this, all of you, for this is my blood, the blood of the covenant, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. From now on, I tell you, I shall never again drink wine until the day I drink the new wine with you in the kingdom of my Father.’

(Reader 2)

After the psalms had been sung they left for the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus said to them, ‘You will all fall away from me tonight, for the scripture says: I shall strike the shepherd and the sheep of the flock will be scattered, but after my resurrection I shall go ahead of you to Galilee.’ At this, Peter said to him, ‘Even if all fall away from you, I will never fall away.’ Jesus answered him, ‘In truth I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will have disowned me three times.’ Peter said to him, ‘Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.’ And all the disciples said the same. Then Jesus came with them to a plot of land called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Stay here while I go over there to pray.’ He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee with him. And he began to feel sadness and anguish. Then he said to them, ‘My soul is sorrowful to the point of death. Wait here and stay awake with me.’ And going on a little further he fell on his face and prayed. ‘My Father,’ he said, ‘if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Nevertheless, let it be as you, not I, would have it.’ He came back to the disciples and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, ‘So you had not the strength to stay awake with me for one hour? Stay awake, and pray not to be put to the test. The spirit is willing enough, but human nature is weak.’ Again, a second time, he went away and prayed: ‘My Father,’ he said, ‘if this cup cannot pass by, but I must drink it, your will be done!’ And he came back again and found them sleeping, their eyes were so heavy. Leaving them there, he went away again and prayed for the third time, repeating the same words. Then he came back to the disciples and said to them, ‘You can sleep on now and have your rest. Look, the hour has come when the Son of man is to be betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up! Let us go! Look, my betrayer is not far away.’ And suddenly while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, appeared, and with him a large number of men armed with swords and clubs, sent by the chief priests and elders of the people. Now the traitor had arranged a sign with them saying, ‘The one I kiss, he is the man. Arrest him.’ So he went up to Jesus at once and said, ‘Greetings, Rabbi,’ and kissed him. Jesus said to him, ‘My friend, do what you are here for.’ Then they came forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. And suddenly, one of the followers of Jesus grasped his sword and drew it; he struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his ear. Jesus then said, ‘Put your sword back, for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Or do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, who would promptly send more than twelve legions of angels to my defence? But then, how would the scriptures be fulfilled that say this is the way it must be?’ It was at this time that Jesus said to the crowds, ‘Am I a bandit, that you had to set out to capture me with swords and clubs? I sat teaching in the Temple day after day and you never laid a hand on me.’ Now all this happened to fulfil the prophecies in scripture.

Music Interlude

“Your Will” (composed by Tony Eiras; sung by Michael Amaral) [amazingradio.com]
Scroll down to find "Your Will"; the song can be played in its entirety for free.

(Reader 3)

Then all the disciples deserted him and ran away. The men who had arrested Jesus led him off to the house of Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were assembled. Peter followed him at a distance right to the high priest’s palace, and he went in and sat down with the attendants to see what the end would be. The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for evidence against Jesus, however false, on which they might have him executed. But they could not find any, though several lying witnesses came forward. Eventually two came forward and made a statement, ‘This man said, “I have power to destroy the Temple of God and in three days build it up.” ‘ The high priest then rose and said to him, ‘Have you no answer to that? What is this evidence these men are bringing against you?’ But Jesus was silent. And the high priest said to him, ‘I put you on oath by the living God to tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God.’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is you who say it. But, I tell you that from this time onward you will see the Son of man seated at the right hand of the Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.’ Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, ‘He has blasphemed. What need of witnesses have we now? There! You have just heard the blasphemy. What is your opinion?’ They answered, ‘He deserves to die.’ Then they spat in his face and hit him with their fists; others said as they struck him, ‘Prophesy to us, Christ! Who hit you then?’ Meanwhile Peter was sitting outside in the courtyard, and a servant-girl came up to him saying, ‘You, too, were with Jesus the Galilean.’ But he denied it in front of them all. ‘I do not know what you are talking about,’ he said. When he went out to the gateway another servant-girl saw him and said to the people there, ‘This man was with Jesus the Nazarene.’ And again, with an oath, he denied it, ‘I do not know the man.’ A little later the bystanders came up and said to Peter, ‘You are certainly one of them too! Why, your accent gives you away.’ Then he started cursing and swearing, ‘I do not know the man.’ And at once the cock crowed, and Peter remembered what Jesus had said, ‘Before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly.

(Reader 4)

When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people met in council to bring about the death of Jesus. They had him bound and led him away to hand him over to Pilate, the governor. When he found that Jesus had been condemned, then Judas, his betrayer, was filled with remorse and took the thirty silver pieces back to the chief priests and elders saying, ‘I have sinned. I have betrayed innocent blood.’ They replied, ‘What is that to us? That is your concern.’ And flinging down the silver pieces in the sanctuary he made off, and went and hanged himself. The chief priests picked up the silver pieces and said, ‘It is against the Law to put this into the treasury; it is blood-money.’ So they discussed the matter and with it bought the potter’s field as a graveyard for foreigners, and this is why the field is still called the Field of Blood. The word spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was then fulfilled: And they took the thirty silver pieces, the sum at which the precious One was priced by the children of Israel, and they gave them for the potter’s field, just as the Lord directed me.

Jesus, then, was brought before the governor, and the governor put to him this question, ‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ Jesus replied, ‘It is you who say it.’ But when he was accused by the chief priests and the elders he refused to answer at all. Pilate then said to him, ‘Do you not hear how many charges they have made against you?’ But to the governor’s amazement, he offered not a word in answer to any of the charges. At festival time it was the governor’s practice to release a prisoner for the people, anyone they chose. Now there was then a notorious prisoner whose name was Barabbas. So when the crowd gathered, Pilate said to them, ‘Which do you want me to release for you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?’ For Pilate knew it was out of jealousy that they had handed him over. Now as he was seated in the chair of judgment, his wife sent him a message, ‘Have nothing to do with that upright man; I have been extremely upset today by a dream that I had about him.’ The chief priests and the elders, however, had persuaded the crowd to demand the release of Barabbas and the execution of Jesus. So when the governor spoke and asked them, ‘Which of the two do you want me to release for you?’ they said, ‘Barabbas.’ Pilate said to them, ‘But in that case, what am I to do with Jesus who is called Christ?’ They all said, ‘Let him be crucified!’ He asked, ‘But what harm has he done?’ But they shouted all the louder, ‘Let him be crucified!’ Then Pilate saw that he was making no impression, that in fact a riot was imminent. So he took some water, washed his hands in front of the crowd and said, ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood. It is your concern.’ And the people, every one of them, shouted back, ‘Let his blood be on us and on our children!’ Then he released Barabbas for them.

Music Interlude

Pie Jesu by Fauré, sung by Kathleen Battle [YouTube]

(Reader 1)

After having Jesus scourged he handed him over to be crucified. Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus with them into the Praetorium and collected the whole cohort round him. And they stripped him and put a scarlet cloak round him, and having twisted some thorns into a crown they put this on his head and placed a reed in his right hand. To make fun of him they knelt to him saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ And they spat on him and took the reed and struck him on the head with it. And when they had finished making fun of him, they took off the cloak and dressed him in his own clothes and led him away to crucifixion. On their way out, they came across a man from Cyrene, called Simon, and enlisted him to carry his cross. When they had reached a place called Golgotha, that is, the place of the skull, they gave him wine to drink mixed with gall, which he tasted but refused to drink. When they had finished crucifying him they shared out his clothing by casting lots, and then sat down and stayed there keeping guard over him. Above his head was placed the charge against him; it read: ‘This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.’

(Reader 2)

Then two bandits were crucified with him, one on the right and one on the left. The passers-by jeered at him; they shook their heads and said, ‘So you would destroy the Temple and in three days rebuild it! Then save yourself if you are God’s son and come down from the cross!’ The chief priests with the scribes and elders mocked him in the same way, with the words, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the king of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He has put his trust in God; now let God rescue him if he wants him. For he did say, “I am God’s son.” ‘ Even the bandits who were crucified with him taunted him in the same way.

Music Interlude

Jesus Remember Me from Taizé [YouTube]

(Reader 3)

From the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour, Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eli, eli, lama sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ When some of those who stood there heard this, they said, ‘The man is calling on Elijah,’ and one of them quickly ran to get a sponge which he filled with vinegar and, putting it on a reed, gave it him to drink. But the rest of them said, ‘Wait! And see if Elijah will come to save him.’ But Jesus, again crying out in a loud voice, yielded up his spirit. And suddenly, the veil of the Sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom, the earth quaked, the rocks were split, the tombs opened and the bodies of many holy people rose from the dead, and these, after his resurrection, came out of the tombs, entered the holy city and appeared to a number of people. The centurion, together with the others guarding Jesus, had seen the earthquake and all that was taking place, and they were terrified and said, ‘In truth this man was son of God.’ And many women were there, watching from a distance, the same women who had followed Jesus from Galilee and looked after him. Among them were Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of Zebedee’s sons.

(Reader 4)

When it was evening, there came a rich man of Arimathaea, called Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate ordered it to be handed over. So Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean shroud and put it in his own new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a large stone across the entrance of the tomb and went away. Now Mary of Magdala and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the sepulchre. Next day, that is, when Preparation Day was over, the chief priests and the Pharisees went in a body to Pilate and said to him, ‘Your Excellency, we recall that this impostor said, while he was still alive, “After three days I shall rise again.” Therefore give the order to have the sepulchre kept secure until the third day, for fear his disciples come and steal him away and tell the people, “He has risen from the dead.” This last piece of fraud would be worse than what went before.’ Pilate said to them, ‘You may have your guard; go and make all as secure as you know how.’ So they went and made the sepulchre secure, putting seals on the stone and mounting a guard.

Music Interlude

Going Home by Antonín Dvořák, sung by Bryn Terfel [YouTube]
Or “My God, My God, Why” -transeraph. Psalm 22 from the Psalm Project from the album Psalms uplugged) Poweful and poignant

Reflection Questions

• What draws me to Jesus?
• What is the cause of Jesus “sorrow” in the garden? What are my “Gethsemanies”?
  Have I ever found it hard to accept God’s will in my life?
• Why does treachery from a friend feel worse than hatred from strangers?
• Remorse can kill or purify. The ability to believe we can be forgiven is central to our Christian belief. This is the basis for the difference between Peter and Judas. Do I really believe that I am truly and completely forgiven by God?
• Everybody has a cross to carry in this life, whether it is illness, loneliness, anxiety, personal relationships or professional ones. Can you name one of your “crosses”? How can you be more like Jesus as you carry your cross(es)?
• Describe a time in your life when you felt a lack of God’s presence in your personal need. How did you handle it?
• Can I forgive others truly and freely?
• Describe the way Jesus handled his interrogation and torture. What qualities of his that he displayed in these instances do you particularly admire?
• Have you ever been anxious or worried about something and found that your usual support system was somehow lacking? How did you feel?
• What images or incidents in this narrative particularly touch you? How do they relate to your own life and your own understanding of Jesus?
• Adapted from Rev. William Bausch in Once upon a Gospel:
  The fact is, the day Jesus entered Jerusalem from the east on a donkey, and Pilate enters from the west on a warhorse, was the day you and I were confronted with a choice: We could choose to enter with Pilate, who represented force, greed and exploitation, or we could choose to enter with Jesus, who represented the kingdom of God which condemns those who exploit others, who use the power of their office or their money to serve their own selfish and sometime dishonest ends, who treat the poor and marginalized as expendable. The results of that confrontation are clear. The question for each of us: which entrance shall I take, whose procession do I follow?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Memory:

adapted from Surrender—A Guide for Prayer, by Jacqueline Syrup Bergin and Sister Marie Schwann:

The Way of the Cross
As Jesus appears before Pilate, I remember a time when I experienced being misunderstood, condemned:
As Jesus receives his cross, I recall a time when I received a cross in my life:
As Jesus falls the first time, I remember when I experienced my first failure, my own limits
As Mary encourages Jesus, I remember someone who encouraged me to follow God's call; I remember how he or she looked at me:
As Simon helps Jesus carry his cross, I consider who has been there to lift a burden from shoulders, from my heart:
As Veronica wipes the face of Jesus, I remember the Veronicas in my life—those who stood by me, comforted me, even at the risk of their own rejection:
As Jesus falls a second time, I recall the times when I have experienced the helplessness of failing, knowing I would fail, again and again:
As the women reach out to comfort Jesus, I remember the faces of those whom I have reached out to comfort, even in my own pain:
As Jesus falls a third time, I recall a time when I felt as if I was totally defeated and could not go on:
As Jesus is stripped of his clothing, I remember the experience of feeling so emotionally naked, so publicly demeaned, so vulnerable before others:
As Jesus is nailed to the cross, I consider the things that bound me, kept me “fastened” to my own sorrow, failures or disappointments:
As I imagine Jesus dying on the cross, I try to recall a time when I loved so unconditionally, so completely, that I gave my all:
As I imagine Mary holding the dead body of her son, I pause and remember those who have held me up in life, nurtured me, and grieved with me:
As Jesus’ body is laid in the tomb, I consider what in my life keeps me entombed, where I most experience death:

Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Read the whole of Psalms 22 and 31 while imagining that Jesus is the speaker. What links do you find between those texts and the passion narratives in the Gospels? What impact does this have?
—Daniel J. Harrington, S.J.

Poetic Reflections—A Selection of 5 Poems

Read Mary Oliver’s poem “Gethsemane”. What is the perspective here?

“Gethsemane”

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.

The cricket has such splendid fringe on his feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.

Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did, maybe
the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t move.
Maybe the lake far away, where once he walked
as on a blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.

Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be part of the story.

Read W.S. Di Piero’s poem “Gethsemane” (from The Restorers). How does it feel to be the betrayer? Have I ever disappointed or betrayed anyone? How did I feel?

“Gethsemane”

He had nerve enough to follow,
dogging his heels, for what? To learn
a new vocabulary, a prayer,
down there in yellow iris that smelled
like carcass? He came back smiling.
The dog had its day, rolling in meat.
This meat was news: The Word of God
wants what we want, to be unchosen.

He must have made up his mind then
What if he said, I don't see Him here,
we’ll check later? Instead he gagged
on words, like a mouthful of water
brought from the garden, that blood squirms
from the blossom loads and cracked boughs,
and in the stagnant lake of the heart
the sprouting trunk splits, groans,
spilling wine, the spongy dirt
inhaling any blood that falls,
and I'm falling into the tree
and dogs at lakeside bark at clouds.

Like that. As if his own speech could
infuriate time while he waited
for an act to come upon him
(as joy sometimes happens). The soldiers
(were they his joy?) got impatient.
So finally his bloodless lips
screamed More life! More salt!
before he gave away his kiss.

Read a poetic reflection on Peter’s betrayal by Rev. Ed Ingebretzen, S.J.:

“In The Book”

In the book
is told
the story of Peter—
he who denied
Jesus—
Peter whose extravagant love
bloomed like Sunday breakfast.

Also is told how he cried,
a glory credited to him
as to none other.
Peter cried to know his denial; how
perplexed he was by love, how undone
like a shoelace.
torn by love of him
called Jesus
who loved incomprehensibly,
till it seemed
even the rocks around him sang blessings.

But Jesus told Peter
what his heart had long known:
you are weak and shall be harvested
like a field of wheat
ripe in October.
Around you the weeds and flowers cluster
eager to gather in your strength.
Said Jesus further:
Peter, be cut, sifted
measured out.
Let love be your source and their ground,
In you let them find root.

Read a novel take on one of the main actors in Palm Sunday’s events written by Mary Oliver:

“The Poet Thinks of the Donkey”

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

Read this meditation on death by St. Catherine of Siena. Could it apply to Jesus?:

“Live Without Thought of Dying”

We work so hard to fly
and no matter what heights we reach
our wings get folded near a candle,
at the end,

for nothing can enter God but Himself.
Our souls are some glorious substance of the divine
that no sentry wants to stop.

Live without thought of dying,
for dying is not a truth.

We have swayed on the sky's limb together,
many years there the same leaves grow.

But then they get that look in their eyes
and bid farewell to what they distained or cherished.

This life He gave the shell, the daily struggles we know,
sit quiet for a minute, dear, feel the wind,
let Light touch you.

Live without thought of dying,
for dying is not a
truth

Musical Reflection for Good Friday

Play “O Magnum Mysterium” by Ola Gjeilo [olagjeilo.com], and imagine the Angels singing to Jesus on the cross. What would your song be?

OR

Play “Adagio for Strings” by Samuel Barber [YouTube], reflecting on how Jesus and his friends must have felt about their great mission and its apparent failure on that last day…

Closing Prayer

This week’s invitation to walk with you Lord, on your last, final journey to the Father, is both comfort and challenge to me. Can I have the strength and steadfastness with which you approached your fate? Can I keep my eyes on the Prize? Can I forgive those who have betrayed and hurt me along the way? Help me trust in myself and in your ultimate goodness as I live my life in your image.

Fifth Sunday in Lent, March 26, 2023

We all have the chance for a new life in Christ

John 11: 3–7, 17, 20–27, 33–45

So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, ‘Lord, he whom you love is ill.’ But when Jesus heard it, he said, ‘This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’ Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.

Then after this he said to the disciples, ‘Let us go to Judea again.’

When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Your brother will rise again.’ Martha said to him, ‘I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.’ Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’ She said to him, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, ‘Take away the stone.’ Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, ‘Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead for four days.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?’ So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upwards and said, ‘Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.’ When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’

Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.

Music Meditations

• Christ in Me Arise—Trevor Thomson
• On Eagles Wings—Jules Antenor
• I Will Arise and Go to Jesus—Rutt Sallinan
• You Raise Me Up—Josh Groban

Opening Prayer

I know what you want from me, Lord: perfect trust in your goodness. But it is hard, Lord, when so many people and institutions, in one way or another, have let me down in the past. When I am entombed in hopelessness, grant that I may hear. Your voice calling me back to you. Teach me, through scriptures like these, to let go of my fears and apprehensions and learn to rely on your goodness and care.

Companions for the Journey

A little exegesis:
Belief in the resurrection of the dead was introduced to the Jewish tradition in the book of Daniel. This belief was espoused by the Pharisees, but not the Sadducees. However, the belief in life after death was widely accepted by the common people of Jesus time (Father Ray Brown)

From “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

God is standing outside the tomb—this is the strong image that touches me in today’s readings. The tomb—our last stop on our journey to God. And what a terrible stopping-off-place it is! At American cemeteries the undertakers and grave diggers do their jobs well. The hole is dug, the excavated soil placed off to the side and the area surrounding the grave is covered with artificial green turf. (It looks like the astro-turf of indoor football stadiums.) Over the grave is a metal framed contraption and thick straps are hung from it to support the coffin. Family and friends remain in their cars until the workers ready the site with flowers. If the weather is foul, there is an awning to protect the mourners and the casket from rain or snow. When all is neatly arranged the mourners are invited to come to the grave site. The coffin is suspended over the grave, supported by that frame and straps. The grave diggers take their break off to the side, some grabbing a smoke during their idle moments. Soon they will be needed again, but not till after everyone has left. The final prayers are said, each mourner takes a flower from the nearby floral arrangements, bids farewell to the deceased and places it on the coffin before they leave. But no matter how antiseptic the grave site and how orderly the process, we know what we are looking at—it’s a grave to which we are assigning one we have loved, perhaps all of our lives. Those nearby grave diggers will soon be placing our loved one into the earth and we will see them no more.

Of course, I know I describing American first-world funeral practices. In the poorest lands the body is wrapped in a simple cloth or placed in a wooden coffin made by a family member, a grave is scratched out of rocky soil by friends, and perhaps a flower or two is left on the earth that has been scraped back into the grave. But in our culture, most of us leave before we get to see the casket lowered into the earth. We can’t watch the final triumph of the grave as it claims our beloved dead. We also have our ways of camouflaging death with cosmetics and euphemisms. But no matter where and how we bury the dead, the grave finds us at our most vulnerable and seems to have its triumphant moments over us. Death has so many co-workers dealing out death in so many forms. What will happen to the survivors? Hear what God has to say: “I will settle you upon you land; thus you will know that I am God.” Let’s see how else the promise is made and to whom. We turn to the gospel.

The story gets more personal in the gospel for in it we get: a sick person who dies, a reprimand, an expression of faith in the impossible, weeping, disbelief, seeing the impossible and then coming to belief. In addition, Jesus will have to pay personally and dearly for this miracle, for it will intensify opposition to him and begin the scheming that leads to his own grave. While God doesn’t stand helplessly by Lazarus’ grave; this miracle of life will cost God dearly as well. Lazarus is Jesus’ friend and as we hear this story we are encouraged to believe that we are friends as well. As Jesus said earlier in John, “...an hour is coming in which all those in their tombs shall hear his [the Son of Man’s] voice and come forth.” (5: 28) We friends of Jesus trust these words as we stand by the open graves of so many loved ones and anticipate that a similar grave awaits us as well.

Jesus is very much in charge here. No one can rush him, not even the urgent pleas of the dying Lazarus’ sisters. He risks the appearance of not being their true friend, of seeming unconcerned. Why does he wait so long? (And why are we also left with questions and doubts when a word from him could raise us from our death beds?) One thing is for sure—after the delay we know Lazarus is really dead! Practical Martha names the reality, “Lord, by now there will be a stench, he has been dead four days.”

What a scene; the dead man emerging from the dark, dank tomb with his burial cloths dangling from his resuscitated body! Soon Jesus will suffer a violent death. They will also wrap him, as was their custom, in burial cloths and place him in a tomb. Another group of family and friends will stand by yet one more grave and peer into its coldness. They too will feel helpless as they huddle to comfort one another. But all is not totally lost. God will visit this grave and speak a word of life over Jesus and God’s Spirit will raise him up to a completely new life. Who could have imagined? With his resurrection all of us who suffer death will be given the gift of hope and respond, “We too will rise.”

As we interpret this passage, note this about John’s gospel. For John, the life God promises in Jesus is already present to the baptized. Our new life does not begin after we have breathed our last breath or when our bodies are surrendered to the grave—it begins now. To call upon another verse from John, “I solemnly assure you, an hour is coming, has indeed come, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who have heeded it shall live. (5:25) We have new life in us even as we stare at the many grave sites in the course of our lives.

There are the deaths of family and friends, of course. But we also face death if we: lose our jobs; flunk out of college; get a crippling disease; lose our physical or mental strengths in old age; give up plans of being married and having children; have our last child go off to school or get married; etc. Is new life possible beyond these and other graves? In this life? The believer, hearing today’s scriptures, is encouraged to believe that God has not abandoned us at our graves and will call out our names, utter a life-giving Word and breathe into us a resurrecting Spirit. “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he/she dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” And we respond with Martha, “Yes, Lord, I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Lazarus, Come out!

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Lazarus represents all of us, each of whom Jesus loves. Do I feel loved by Jesus?
• What does it mean to me that Jesus is the resurrection and the life?
• Jesus’ act of raising Lazarus from the death actually speeds his own death. There was a cost. Has there ever been a cost for you of doing something good?
  Did you do it anyway, or was the cost too high?
• Which of the characters in the story do you most identify with? Why?
• Lack of forgiveness is something that may keep us “stuck” in a sort of death.
  Is there someone or something about which I am refusing to offer forgiveness?
  Is there anything for which I refuse to forgive myself?
• Is these someone who refuses to forgive me?
  What sort of “death” has this caused?
• What are some of the little “deaths” in our lives? (illness, loss of a job, rejection by a loved one, etc.)
• What are some of the “stones” that keep us entombed in a sort of death? (Fear, shame, envy, anger and sadness are examples)
• Walter Burghardt, in his homily on the fifth Sunday of Lent many years ago, said: “Eternal life does not begin with death. It begins now, because through Jesus, God and I are already one.” How do we live out or fail to live out that understanding?
• Do we believe that those who have died are linked to us through the communion of saints? Do we have an examples to relate?
• Have you ever done something for a friend that caused you severe discomfort or pain? Was it worth it?
• If I were to die tomorrow, what have I left undone, unsaid?
  From whom have I withheld forgiveness?
  From whom have I not sought forgiveness?
• What parts of my life need healing, mercy, resurrection?
• Where is my interior necrosis?
  Where is the dead part of my soul?
• Do I reflect the joy of Christ, or am I like a mourner at a funeral?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style:

Read John 11: 1-44 again. Imagine the various scenes in this story. Try to picture Mary and Martha coping with the desperate illness of their brother. Imagine the scene on the far side of the Jordan where Jesus is hiding out to avoid arrest. What is Jesus actually doing when he receives the message about Lazarus? Try to put yourself in Mary and Martha’s shoes as they see Jesus after Lazarus has died. Would you react the same way? How does Jesus react? What does that tell you about his feelings for Lazarus and for Mary and Martha? Have you ever felt that God was a little too slow in reacting to a crisis in your life? Reflect on the final outcome and see if you can detect the presence of God in good times and in bad times. Imagine a dialogue with the risen Lazarus. What do you think he would say to you?

(by Anne Greenfield, from Songs of Life: Psalm Meditations from the Catholic Community at Stanford)

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Is it hard to know what to say to someone who is in the throes of grief? Can one simply acknowledge that we do not know how to help, but that we are concerned about them and are available if needed? Do you know of anyone who is grieving the loss of a loved one, or a job, or health? What one gesture of sympathy and solidarity can you make this week to comfort this person?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

From A Year of Mercy with Pope Francis:

A homily of Pope Francis on April 6, 2014:

Today I invite you to think for a moment, in silence here: where is my interior necrosis? Where is the dead part of my soul? Where is my tomb? Think, for a short moment… What part of the heart can be corrupted because of my attachment to sin, one sin or another? And to remove the stone, to take away the stone of shame and allow the Lord to say to us as he said to Lazarus: “Come out!” that all our souls might be healed, might be raised by the love of Jesus. He is capable of forgiving us. We all need it! All of us. We are all sinners, but we must be careful not to become corrupt. Sinners we may be, but He forgives us.

Reflection:
Consider Pope Francis’ questions above. What parts of your life need healing, mercy, resurrection? Trust in the power of Jesus to transform you.

Literary Reflection:

I wonder if this is how Mary and Martha felt when they lost their brother:

“Cue Lazarus”

Start this with the invocation:
a seventy-seven Pinto,
an eastbound freeway, two boys
a few months from their driver’s license.

It happens again because you’ve
said it. You sit in the back seat,
a ghost of red vinyl, to listen
to these boys—one of whom was you,

the one along for the ride—talk
brave about cheerleaders
and socket wrenches as they pass
a stolen cigarette between them.

They don’t know you’re there,
wouldn’t believe in you should
they look backstage, backseat.
The boys are driving back from an October

orchard where they’d gone to see leaves
change. You remember: orange, brown,
as though you’d just seen those leaves,
because in this proximity

to yourself—the boy in the passenger
seat—you are thinking the
same thing, and each of your in-
carnations feels like they’ve thought this

before. Your ghost, your present tense
thinks that maybe this isn’t right.
Now you’re along for the ride.
These boys haven’t cuffed up against

their own mortality yet, though one
of them is sick. The other one,
driving and picking at the thin
hair falling from his scalp, will die

soon, because what lurks in his dark
blood can be cured by medical
science. And that cure is what will
kill him, as it leaves him weak,

unable to fight off infection
in his lungs. But that comes later.
You are here with them now to find
out what you owe to whom—your life,

mortgaged to one of these boys
and you’ve never been able to
rectify that debt. You are the
stage direction, a ghost backstage,

wanting a spotlight, a soapbox
a soliloquy. Dissolve
back into your life, like sugar
in tea—exit this scene now, stage left.

*

You are the apparition again
in your mother’s house. You follow
yourself down the yellow hallway
to the ringing phone in the kitchen.

You already know who’s calling,
the way you knew then—when you were
the self you’re haunting. Your friend
is dead. You know this even before

his sister tells you—but because your
ghost is too close, the boy can feel
your grief, but can’t feel his own.
And you did know then, didn’t you?

You knew that morning, that the earth
awakes closest to the sun—four
days into every new year.
And Lazarus, dead now, four days.

Roll away the stone. Believe
in something besides the past.
Awaken from this dream like
a man called out from a cave.

It happens this way each time:
a bourbon breakdown in January
rain—weeping an invocation,
cursing corollary.

Can you go to Tom’s grave today
and mandate him back to this life?
Should you cue him from the wing
like a stage direction? Would he

damn you—a sadness, a gravestone
on your chest, for calling him
into this mortal suffering?
If you had been in Houston that day

he’d have died anyway. You’re a fool
to think you can bargain across the river.
Haunting the past won’t stop
it from happening each time, exactly

the same way. Won’t stop your heart
from breaking like a glass decanter,
brown whisky sliding
mercury across the tile.

—Carl Marcum

Literary Reflection:

Sit with this poem for a while and see of it says anything to you about hope:
Birago Diop, A Muslim poet from Senegal, sums up his convictions about those who have gone before us:

Those who are dead have never gone away,
They are in the shadows darkening around,
They are in the shadows fading into day,
The dead are not under the ground.
They are in the trees that quiver,
They are in the woods that weep,
They are in the waters of the rivers,
They are in the waters that sleep.
They are in the crowds, they are in the homestead.
The dead are never dead.

Closing Prayer

You call me to come out, Lord, from all that keeps me bound and facing death of one sort or another—insecurity, anger, hopelessness, fear, disappointment in myself and others. The trappings of this life, like accomplishment, money, unhealthy dependence on others are wrappings that keep me from freely experiencing your gift of life and love. Set me free Lord. If I do not hear your call, call me again. And again.

Fourth Sunday in Lent, March 19, 2023

God is our light in the darkness; where are we willfully blind?

John 9: 1–41

As he passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him. We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes, and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed, and came back able to see.

His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said, “Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.” He said, “I am.” So they said to him, “[So] how were your eyes opened?” He replied, “The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes and told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went there and washed and was able to see.” And they said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I don’t know.”

They brought the one who was once blind to the Pharisees. Now Jesus had made clay and opened his eyes on a Sabbath. So then the Pharisees also asked him how he was able to see. He said to them, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and now I can see.” So some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, because he does not keep the sabbath.” [But] others said, “How can a sinful man do such signs?” And there was a division among them. So they said to the blind man again, “What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.”

Now the Jews did not believe that he had been blind and gained his sight until they summoned the parents of the one who had gained his sight. They asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How does he now see? His parents answered and said, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. We do not know how he sees now, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him, he is of age; he can speak for himself.” His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone acknowledged him as the Messiah, he would be expelled from the synagogue. For this reason his parents said, “He is of age; question him.”

So a second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give God the praise! We know that this man is a sinner.” He replied, “If he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.” So they said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?” They ridiculed him and said, “You are that man’s disciple; we are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but we do not know where this one is from.” The man answered and said to them, “This is what is so amazing, that you do not know where he is from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if one is devout and does his will, he listens to him. It is unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything.” They answered and said to him, “You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?” Then they threw him out.

When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, he found him and said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered and said, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him and the one speaking with you is he.” He said, “I do believe, Lord,” and he worshiped him. Then Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.”

Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not also blind, are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you are saying ‘We see’. And so your sin remains.”

Music Meditations

• Open My Eyes, Lord—Jesse Manibusan
• Amazing Grace—sung by Susan Boyle
• Lead Kindly Light—Angelica Garza
• Precious Lord, Take My Hand—NIU Chamber Choir

Opening Prayer

Lord, I know that I am often blind. I do not see others as you see them. Help me to see the beauty and the goodness in those around me, recognizing that you made them and love them as you do me. I also know that I am often caught up in the bitterness of failed expectations, or rejection or personal weakness. Help me to work though that bitterness and see my negative experiences as a change for you to work miracles of growth within me. Help me to remember who is in charge here…

Companions for the Journey

From “Sermons and reflections shared by Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Alexandria, VA”:

Katie was a classmate of mine in elementary school. We were in many of the same classes for kindergarten through 6th grade .I remember her younger brother well…he played trombone in the band, he had a whacky sense of humor, he played baseball…I remember her brother well…but I don’t remember much about Katie even though she was in my class for seven years. In fact, the only thing I really remember about Katie is that she was blind. I and others identified Katie by her disability. She was the “blind girl” at Dawes School. And sadly that’s all we knew. At least we knew her name…“The blind man” in today’s gospel didn’t even have that recognition. It seems that no one knows his name. No one really pays much attention to him. After his sight is restored by Jesus, his neighbors say, “Is that the man who used to sit and beg?” They really aren’t quite sure because no one knows him as a person – They identify him only by his blindness. Once he is no longer blind and begging, they don’t recognize him!

There are many stories of healing in the Bible. Jesus heals the blind, the deaf, the lame, those with chronic illness, those who are mentally ill, and others. These stories reveal to me a God of compassion, of strength, of miraculous power. But these healing stories are not comforting for everyone. In fact, these stories can be difficult for those who have disabilities. (And that’s a lot of people – nearly one in 5 in the United States according to the most recent census.) The healing stories of Jesus can be difficult because sometimes the impression is given that those with disabilities are not yet whole people – that they need to be fixed. The healing stories of Jesus can be difficult because sometimes the stories talk about healing as a result of the faith of the one who is healed, giving the impression that the person who still has a disability somehow does not have enough faith. The healing stories of Jesus can be difficult because sometimes a relationship is made between illness and sin, giving the impression that a person’s sinfulness causes the illness.

We need to debunk all of those false beliefs.
A disability does not need to be fixed to make a person whole.
A disability is not the result of a lack of faith.
A disability is not a punishment from God for sin.

And that is why John chapter 9 is claimed as such an important text for those within the disability community. When the disciples try to link sin with disability, Jesus won’t allow it – He clearly says that it is not the man’s sin or the sin of his parents which made him blind. There is also no association between faith and healing in this story. There is no act of faith on the man’s part. He does not ask for healing, He does not touch Jesus’ cloak like the woman who is hemorrhaging. He does not ask to be carried into healing pool like the paralyzed man at Bethesda. This man receives healing entirely through grace.

No faith necessary.

Furthermore, unlike how those with disabilities are sometimes treated in life as well as in the Bible, this story is helpful because the man who is blind is shown to be an individual – an intelligent individual with a winsome personality. He is thoughtful. He speaks for himself. He’s funny! I love this line … He’s asked what happened and responds “Why do you want me to tell the story to you again?” Can’t you see the grin on his face? “Do you also want to become his disciples?”.

But what I think is perhaps the most remarkable thing about this healing story, Aside from the fact that it shows the man as an individual, that it disabuses the notion of disability as a punishment for sin, that it doesn’t equate healing with faith… The most remarkable thing about this healing story is that Jesus teaches that it isn’t the man who has been blind since birth who needs healing…it isn’t he who is lacking in real sight. It is the others who need healing.

Those who are blind to God’s work in the world are the ones who need new vision.

Lent is often focused on changing something in our lives
We’ve talked about changes in circumstances,
We’ve talked about a change in heart,
We’ve talked about a change in habits…
Today we’re talking about a change in sight.

And we’re not talking about a change in sight for those who already wear glasses, We’re talking about corrective lenses for those of us who think we already have 20/20 vision. In her book For the Benefit of those who See, a wonderful collection of stories about her work with those who are visually impaired in Tibet, Rosemary Mahoney says that seeing is not a function of the eyes alone. “It is a function of the mind at least as much as the eyes,” she says. “We only see what we look at.”

So let’s think again about what it means to have 20/20 vision.
20/20 vision looks at the world and can see God’s hand in and through it all.
20/20 vision notices that the sacred is present outside of church or synagogue and in everyday life.
20/20 vision sees the blind man begging at the side of the road and stops to chat and find out his name.
20/20 vision observes tragedy around the world – a mudslide in Washington, a plane crash somewhere over the ocean, and does not blame the victims.
20/20 vision pays attention to inequalities due to race or socioeconomic class or gender and does not dismiss them.
20/20 vision looks, notices, sees, observes, pays attention to the world around them… and ironically, perhaps, the blind man has done this better than anyone else.

May our eyes be opened to see.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• What is the difference between physical sight and vision?
• John is not telling us that one man was born blind and Jesus cured him, but that we humans are “blind from birth” and we all need healing.
  What are my limitations, blind spots, or false notions of God?
  What leads us to spiritual blindness? (self-absorption, righteousness, unwillingness to change and grow, for example?)
  When have I preferred shadows, darkness and illusion in my life?
  What have been the enlightening moments in my life?
• Do we see, really see, the needs around us, or are we willfully blind?
  How do we deal with those who are willfully blind?
  Can we?
• Why are we born the way we are?
  Do we believe our bad luck is the result of God’s punishment, or that our good luck is the result of God’s pleasure?
• What kind of courage do we need in this day and age to witness to Jesus?
• How has your perception of Jesus changed in the course of your own spiritual journey?
• Recall some beliefs which were once a part of your life, but which you no longer consider to be true.
• Have difficult times in your life affected your faith?
  In what way?
• If Jesus were to ask me “What is it that you want me to do for you, what would you answer?
• What have been my “blind spots”?
  Where has God’s grace figured in my enlightenment?
  How has this enlightenment affected my behavior?
• In short, we must do more than “believe”. We must act on our beliefs. What will my action be this week? Where will my light shine this week?
• Has anyone ever tried to make me conform to beliefs that were popular and accepted as correct, but which contradicted my own?
  Have I ever been in a position of power or authority where I tried to coerce others into voicing my opinions or beliefs?
  Have I ever been intimidated by a person who had power to harm me in some way?
• Is there anything in my life right now that keeps me from seeing what God wants me to see?
• Has there even been someone in my life who shed light on my actions, my goals, my relationships? How did I respond?
• Have I ever made judgments about someone based on how they looked or acted, or based on commonly held beliefs about such a person?
  Has anyone ever judged me in this way?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Adapted from an article by John Yates in “Preaching Today”:

‘As he passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.’

Commentary:

The disciples couldn’t bear to let this opportunity slip away. They were just like you and I would have been. All their lives they had wondered about this age-old problem of pain. If God is a good God, and all powerful, why on earth would God allow a person to be struck down with such a problem? It was easy enough to understand if this person had been some despicable person. He would deserve to be punished. But this poor fellow was totally blind from the very beginning. When he came out of the womb, he couldn’t see. He had lived in total darkness. And so the disciples raised this question to their teacher. How did Jesus respond? Jesus could have explained that, although God is perfectly good and all-powerful, this world in which we live, which he made, has been corrupted by man’s sin. It’s a fallen, bent, crooked, broken place in which there are many selfish and harmful people, and in which there are millions of types of dangerous bacteria and viruses. All these forces are at work to make this a dangerous environment in which all people, evil or wonderful, are equally at risk, and no one is safe from danger. He himself, God’s own Son, was soon to be murdered. “All of us look to heaven as the only perfect environment.” Jesus could have said that. Or he could have explained that, yes, there are some situations in which the sin of the parent brings pain or grief or sickness on a child. We certainly see this in the case of children of alcoholics, or in instances where children suffer blindness or worse because of a parent infected with a venereal disease. Jesus could have gone into that. He could have explained that all suffering is not alike. He could have said, “Well, there are no pat answers. Here are several different things for you to think about.” He could have said, “Suffering has a place in God’s plan—in the lives of certain people and certain situations.”

Jesus missed an opportunity. He could have preached an unbelievably good sermon that would have gone down in history as the most penetrating analysis of the problem of pain ever given. He was the Son of God. He knew the answers to this problem. So much of our own inner pain and philosophical bewilderment could have been once and for all settled if Jesus had just preached that sermon that his disciples had begged him to preach.

Why did my father die as a young man? Why did this young mother and child die so cruelly in an automobile accident? Why that avalanche? Why that earthquake? Why that little boy without any arms? Why Auschwitz? Why Afghanistan? Why AIDS?

He could have explained all of that, but he didn’t. He didn’t. And as a result, we still have only an imperfect, incomplete understanding of the answers to the problem of pain. Often, we still find ourselves perplexed and grief-stricken in the midst of tragedies that befall all people everywhere. What did Jesus do in this situation? He said: The only thing I’m going to tell you right now is that this situation is an opportunity. It’s an opportunity for God to be glorified. It’s an opportunity to show what God can do. This is an important point: When you face tragedy, whether it’s sickness or natural disaster or whatever, you might be able to discern reasons why this is happening, and you may be able to lay the blame on someone or something. You may even be able somehow to see the hand of God in it. You may not, and it may seem God is not answering you when you pray. Why?

It just may be the only answer you will get is this: “This has happened; don’t dwell on why. Rather, it has happened, and having happened, we now have an opportunity to see God at work.” That really is a much better answer. What a shame that Jesus didn’t give us an answer to our questions about the problem of pain. All he said was: Here’s an opportunity to see what God can do. 

Sickness and suffering are opportunities for us to show the love and compassion of God. I thought about that this week, and here’s what I thought: Sickness and people who are suffering around us provide us with an opportunity to show the love and compassion of God by caring for them and praying for them and working for their healing. It may be that God is calling you to medicine. It may be that God is calling you to work for the relief of suffering in areas stricken by famine. Perhaps God would have you become a part of our sick- and hospital-visitation ministry. It may be that God is calling you to a ministry of healing and relief for the sick and suffering. Affliction, sorrow, pain, loss, disappointment—they give us opportunity to demonstrate the love of God to people who are suffering. Many people, like this blind man in John 9, are too overcome by their suffering to be open to giving their lives to Christ. But when they are loved and cared for, when they sense the compassion of Christ through our deeds of mercy, they may, like this blind man, eventually come to Christ and find spiritual healing as well as physical healing.

When tragedy comes, we always want to focus on the why. Jesus said it happens for a purpose, and that purpose is that the power and love and greatness of God might be seen more deeply through this. You may have a tragedy in your life one day. Will you see it as disaster, a terrible defeat, or will you see it as an opportunity—as awful and as painful as it might be—an opportunity for God to do new things? Will you look backward, or will you look forward?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Read the section from John again on the man born blind, and pay special attention to the reactions of the Pharisees. Pharisees have not been well regarded by Christianity as a whole, but the fact is, they were very religious people. God really was the center of their lives, and they saw that the best way to do God’s will was to be very attentive to the laws of Judaism. These were rather strict laws which imposed a considerable burden on those who chose to follow them, and the piety of those who followed the laws was very real. These were, in the main, good people. In fact, when we look at the American Catholic of the 1950’s—rigidly and almost obsessively following “rules” such as abstaining from meat on Fridays, fasting each day of Lent, attending First Friday Masses, Stations of the Cross on Lenten Fridays, being very diligent about frequent confessions and the proper attire for Church—we can see a great resemblance between us and the Pharisees of Jesus’ time. The problem occurs when we think we know God better than anybody else does and proceed to judge others by our own religious standards. Spiritual arrogance is the problem for a lot of us, whether we realize it or not. Have I been confidently smug about my relationship with God because I appear to be a good person? I reflect on a time when I have I been judgmental of someone who made a decision which I thought was a bad or wrong one. Have I ever made a judgment about someone only to discover that I didn’t have the story straight? Did I share my judgment with others and injure this person’s reputation? I reflect on Jesus saying: since you say ‘we see’ your guilt remains. I end my meditation with a prayer for true humility which allows me to see the good in others and to realize that all my spiritual gifts come only from God.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Read this passage again from John 9:1-41. Imagine that you are the blind man. What, exactly, is your life like? Where do you live? What do you do every day? How do other people treat you? What do you think when you hear that Jesus is in the area? Why do you do what Jesus says? How do you feel to have your sight restored? Does it make you nervous when you are questioned by the Pharisees? How does your perception of who Jesus is gradually change? Do you believe him only because of the fact that he healed you? What is your life going to be like from now on? Would it change anything about your perception of Jesus if your blindness recurred? Returning to the present day and your 21st century life, reflect on where you need healing, where Jesus has enlightened you, and what your mission is to be in this life going forward. Make a realistic plan.

Poetic Reflection:

Read the following poem from Mary Oliver, reflecting on whether you have ever been blind to God’s grace:

“The Vast Ocean Begins Just Outside Our Church: The Eucharist”

Something has happened
To the bread
And the wine.

They have been blessed.
What now?
The body leans forward

To receive the gift
From the priest’s hand,
Then the chalice.

They are something else now
From what they were
Before this began.

I want
To see Jesus,
Maybe in the clouds

Or on the shore,
Just walking,
Beautiful man

And clearly
Someone else
Besides.

On the hard days
I ask myself
If I ever will.

Also there are times
My body whispers to me
That I have.

Recall a time when God walked with you through the darkness of your own life.

Closing Prayer

Adapted from a homily by Father William Bausch in 60 More Seasonal Homilies

A Prayer for seeing…

Some of us are blind to our own faults
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some us always focus on the weakness of others
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some never acknowledge life’s blessings
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some are blinded by unbridled desires for pleasure, money, and self-promotion, and fail to notice the needs of others, or the presence of the poor
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some have eyes darkened by prejudice and hatred
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some re blinded by ambition, and step all over others’ feelings
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some are blinded by pride which makes them think they are the center of the universe
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some wallow in their own self-pity and are turned in on their own sins and never notice God’s mercy
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE
Some don’t have their prayers answered and need to sense something deeper happening in the crosses they bear.
LORD, WE WANT TO SEE

Lord, we want to see as you see, to see others as you see them, to see ourselves as beloved, to see what is truly important. Lord help us to see your love and your light. Amen.

Third Sunday in Lent, March 12, 2023

Acceptance of the other; openness to God breaking into our lives, and our response

John 4: 5–42

So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of land that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there. Jesus, tired from his journey, sat down there at the well. It was about noon.

A woman of Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.

The Samaritan woman said to him, “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” (For Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans.)

Jesus answered and said to her, “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.”

[The woman] said to him, “Sir, you do not even have a bucket and the well is deep; where then can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us this well and drank from it himself with his children and his flocks?”

Jesus answered and said to her, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”

Jesus said to her, “Go call your husband and come back.”

The woman answered and said to him, “I do not have a husband.”

Jesus answered her, “You are right in saying, ‘I do not have a husband.’ For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true.”

The woman said to him, “Sir, I can see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain; but you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.”

Jesus said to her, “Believe me, woman, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You people worship what you do not understand; we worship what we understand, because salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth; and indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him. God is Spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and truth.”

The woman said to him, “I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Anointed; when he comes, he will tell us everything.”

Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking with you.”

At that moment his disciples returned, and were amazed that he was talking with a woman, but still no one said, “What are you looking for?” or “Why are you talking with her?”

The woman left her water jar and went into the town and said to the people, “Come see a man who told me everything I have done. Could he possibly be the Messiah?” They went out of the town and came to him.

Meanwhile, the disciples urged him, “Rabbi, eat.”

But he said to them, “I have food to eat of which you do not know.”

So the disciples said to one another, “Could someone have brought him something to eat?”

Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of the one who sent me and to finish his work. Do you not say, ‘In four months the harvest will be here’? I tell you, look up and see the fields ripe for the harvest. The reaper is already receiving his payment and gathering crops for eternal life, so that the sower and reaper can rejoice together. For here the saying is verified that ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap what you have not worked for; others have done the work, and you are sharing the fruits of their work.”

Many of the Samaritans of that town began to believe in him because of the word of the woman who testified, “He told me everything I have done.” When the Samaritans came to him, they invited him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days.

Many more began to believe in him because of his word, and they said to the woman, “We no longer believe because of your word; for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the savior of the world.”

Music Meditations

• Lord, I Need You—Chris Tomlin (praise and Worship)
• Create in me a clean heart, O God—Keith Greene Maranatha Singers
• Come My Way, My Truth, My Life—Ralph Vaughn Williams
• I Will Arise—Celtic arrangement by Michael Card
• For Those Tears I Dies—Marsha Stevens
• Come to the Water—John Foley, S.J.

Opening Prayer

Adapted from Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits, 2023:

Lord, I am going about my business like the Samaritan Woman, and am taken aback when you accost me at my particular well. You interrupt my business, my getting and spending, and you interrupt the routines of my day. You know everything about me, the good and the bad. You know my heart. Instead of resisting, let me be like the woman at the well, moved with joy at meeting you and committed to changing my life, if need be. Give me the courage to do so.

Companions for the Journey

From a blog called “Interrupting the Silence”, by Father Mike Marsh, Rector of St Phillip’s Episcopal church in west Texas:

She has a history. Things done and left undone, some good some not so good. Guilts and regrets. Fears. Wounds and sorrows. Secrets too. She is a woman with a past. Study the history of this text, read the commentaries, listen to the interpretations and you will learn that her past is generally seen as one of promiscuity. The evidence? Five spouses and now living unmarried with a sixth man. Looked at but not seen. Labelled yet nameless. She remains unknown to everyone. Everyone, that is, except Jesus.

How easily we forget that women of her day had very little choice or control over their own lives. If she is divorced it is because the men divorced her. She had no right of divorce. That was exclusively the man’s right. Maybe it was a just divorce but often it was not. If she’s not divorced then she has suffered the death of five husbands. Five times left alone, five times nameless, faceless, and of no value, five times starting over. Maybe some divorced her. Maybe some died. We don’t know. Either one, divorce or death, is a tragedy for her life.

So let’s not be too quick to judge. We don’t know the details of her past. Maybe we don’t need to. Maybe it is enough that she mirrors for us our own lives. We too are people with a past, people with a history. We are all Samaritan women. People like her, people like us, people with a past, often live in fear of being found out. It is not just the fear that another will know the truth, the facts, about us but that they will do so without ever really seeing us and without ever really knowing us. We all thirst to be seen and to be known at a deep intimate level. We all want to pour our lives out to one who knows us, to let them drink from the depths of our very being. That is exactly what Jesus is asking of this woman with a past when he says, “Give me a drink.” It is the invitation to let herself be known. To be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known. To be found out, however, without being known leaves us dry and desolate. It leaves us to live a dehydrated life thirsting for something more, something different, but always returning to the same old wells.

We all go down to some well. For some, like the Samaritan woman, it is the marriage well. For others it is the well of perfectionism. Some go to the well of hiding and isolation. Others will draw from the well of power and control. Too many will drink from the wells of addiction. Many live at the well of busyness and denial. We could each name the wells from which we drink. Day after day, month after month, year after year we go to the same well to drink. We arrive hoping our thirst will be quenched. We leave as thirsty as when we arrived only to return the next day. For too long we have drunk from the well that never satisfies, the well that can never satisfy. Husband after husband this is the well to which the Samaritan woman has returned.

There is another well, however. It is the well of Jesus Christ. It is the well that washes us clean of our past. This is the well from which new life and new possibilities spring forth. It is the well that frees us from the patterns and habits that keep us living as thirsty people That is the well the Samaritan women in today’s gospel found. She intended to go to the same old well she had gone to for years, the well that her ancestors and their flocks drank from. Today is different. Jesus holds before her two realities of her life; the reality of what is and the reality of what might be. He brings her past to the light of the noon day. “You have had five husbands,” he says, “and the one you have now is not your husband.” It is not a statement of condemnation but simply a statement of what is. He tells her everything she has ever done. She has been found out. But it doesn’t end there. Jesus is more interested in her future than her past. He wants to satisfy her thirst more than judge her history. Jesus knows her. He looks beyond her past and sees a woman dying of thirst; a woman thirsting to be loved, to be seen, to be accepted, to be included, to be forgiven, to be known. Her thirst will never be quenched by the external wells of life. Nor will ours. Jesus says so.

“Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.” This is the living water of new life, new possibilities, and freedom from the past. This living water is Jesus’ own life. It became in the Samaritan woman “a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” She discovered within herself the interior well and left her water jar behind. She had now become the well in which Christ’s life flows.

It’s not enough, however, to hear her story or even believe her testimony. Until we come to the well of Christ’s life within us we will continue returning to the dry wells of our life. We will continue to live thirsty. We will continue to live in fear of being found out. So I wonder, from what wells do you drink? How much longer will you carry your water jars? There is another well, one that promises life, one by which we are known and loved. Come to a new well. Come to the well of Christ’s life, Christ’s love, Christ’s presence that is already in you. Come to the well that is Christ himself and then drink deeply. Drink deeply until you become the one you are meant to be.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Whoever drinks of the water I shall give will never thirst

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Have I ever felt that I did “not quite belong” to the community found myself in?
  Did I feel isolated, judged by others, or simply invisible?
  How did it make me feel about reaching out to others?
• Have I ever, in the midst of trying to love a complicated or stressful life, found myself in need of refreshment?
  Can I admit my “thirst”?
  Why or why not?
• We all at one time or another go down to some “well”, seeking to quench the thirst for happiness and contentment. What has been my particular well?
  Am I still at this well?
  Is it a life-giving one?
  Have I been drawn to more than one “well” in my life?
• Do I need God’s mercy and understanding?
  Have I asked for it?
  Does someone need my mercy and understanding?
• Look what happens in John’s Gospel when Jesus and the woman open up to each other in an honest dialogue. What change in my life might a conversation with Jesus lead me to?
• Is there someone in my life that I need or want to have a meaningful conversation with?
• What does the water imagery in this gospel suggest to you about your own spiritual and emotional life?
  Where does it need to be refreshed?
• The woman leaves her bucket at the well, perhaps symbolizing the old life she is leaving behind. Is there something in my life I need to “leave behind”?
• The woman at the well entered into a conversation with Jesus. What conversation do I want to have with him?
  Can I have it now?
  What keeps me from trusting Jesus’ words?
• We, like Christ, are evangelizers for God (Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis). The pope has called us to be missionary disciples. Note here that the woman did not pack up everything and follow Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem. She had another mission give her by Jesus. What are some ways we can be evangelizers for God?
  When was the last time I was involved in such an encounter?
  What holds me back from being a better evangelizer?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

St. Francis was a lover of nature. If he were to return to earth right now, would he be happy ?

Within about 10 years most people on the planet will face life with water shortages.

Half the world’s major rivers are being seriously polluted and/or depleted.

About 40 percent of rivers and lakes in the U.S. surveyed by the EPA are too polluted for swimming or fishing.

Why is this happening?
Too often we pit one need against another as we use rivers and lakes to meet our needs. We grow food in ways that send pollution into our drinking water. We often manufacture products in ways that use more water than is necessary, or poison the water that people are depending upon for their daily living. We clear away forests without thinking about the erosion that will wash into our waters.

What I can do:
Learn more about how water is apportioned and adulterated in our own country and around the world.
Pray for those who have no clean water and lobby against the movement to “privatize” water in the developing world.
Speak or write to my political leaders, and support initiatives that aim at providing clean water for all.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Reread the story of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, putting yourself in her shoes, and imagine what you see as you approach the well to draw water. Why is there no one ese from the village at the well? Why did you come at this time? Are you not accepted by the other women of Sechem? Describe the actual physical surroundings you find yourself in. What does the area look like? Smell like? How hot is it? What do you see perched on the edge of the well? What does this man look like? What does he ask of you? Why do you hesitate to give him water? How does Jesus let you know that he is aware of your past? (Just what IS your past?) How do you feel about having this past known to this man? Does he condemn you? What does Jesus tell you about the climate of your heart? Is it embarrassing that Jesus knows so much about you?

Talk to Jesus about the brokenness in your own life—mistakes made, anger still unresolved, regret, shame, sadness. Then speak to him of your desire to use this brokenness to enter into communion with him who understands and has compassion for all. Finally, let that healing and accepting energy lead you back to the world, to your immediate relationships and even to others who may need your healing touch.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Consider these words from Psalm 42:

As the deer pants for streams of water So my soul pants for you, O God My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?

Then I ask myself: What does our present generation thirst for? What does the world thirst for? Has there ever been a “dry” time when God gave me what I needed in terms of comfort, respite, or simply God’s sustaining presence? I name (silently or aloud) a hard place in my life at this time. Where in that rocky, desert place is God providing water for me?

Finally: I say a prayer of hope and thanksgiving for God’s sustaining presence in my life.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Think of someone in your family or among your friends and acquaintances who is somewhat outside the circle because of something he did in the past, or because she is an embarrassment to you… (maybe she dresses weirdly, is too plump, or holds the wrong political views). Now think of how Jesus would view this person, and to what lengths he would go to be inclusive. Do one thing this week—a phone call, a note, an invitation to grab a bite to eat or go to the movies—that makes this person feel accepted by you. Find time for a conversation of significance. Go on, be brave! Be forgiving!

Poetic Reflection:

Think of a woman who has been discarded as worthless at least five times, rendered unworthy of human contact, but recognized in the loving eyes of Jesus who promises so much more. What a gift it is to be thankful when life is a struggle…

“Conversations –III”

Isn’t it strange
that as we are bent, broken
like bread, torn like cloth
poured away.
Still we are not consumed

Bless you, God.

Bless you
Who make mountains and winds;
Who give fire to breath
And freckles to children.

Bless you.

—Rev. Ed Ingebretzen in Psalms of the Still Country

Closing Prayer

Lord, help me to see those marginalized among us. Help me to be welcoming and compassionate, listening to their pain and sorrow, their anger and loneliness. In many ways, I am an outsider too, not quite fitting in. Teach me to rely on your love and care for me and for others who are on the margins of life for one reason or another.