Reflections

A Reflection for the 4th Sunday of Lent

In the first reading from Joshua, Chapter 5, God tells us that he has “rolled away the disgrace of Egypt”. In the Gospel we hear the story of the Father who welcomed back the son who had disgraced his family and the older brother who resented the Father's love and forgiveness. This section is often mistitled The Prodigal Son, when it is really all about the Father. Also in Paul's letter to the Corinthians, we are reminded that we have been reconciled to God in and through Christ Jesus. Why is it that we can’t seem to really believe it is true when we say “The Word of the Lord”?

In today’s readings we hear about a God who loves us and always wants us to come back and is willing and waiting to take us back. So what does it mean to me that God loves me that much? How am I to live this passionate love in my life? 

Each one of us will have a different answer, but I believe that if I can truly get my head and heart around the fact that God loves me and wants me to love each person I meet, then what do I need to leave behind as the younger son did? What do I have to accept in community, in Church, in life to celebrate with those who “come home”? How can I welcome and accept each person I meet as one who is the Presence of God for me?               

Some of us are called to be prophets to speak God’s Truth. Some of us can do this only in prayer and in how we live each moment in Love and Gratitude. God of Love and Compassion, help me to hear your Word and live it each moment so others may become aware of you through my life. 

Anne Rajotte, CSJ

Transfiguration

Did you know that it is the intense heat of a forest fire that releases the seeds of the pine cone so that new growth can take place?

. . . tall, black tree trunks scarred from fire, delicately outlined with fresh, white snow,

. . . the lush green of the forest floor in the spring following a fire,

. . . the pinkish, purple blossoms of the fireweed plant growing in the spaces left vacant by fire,

These are the images I see as I drive along our highway and roads after two intense summers of forest fires. These are transfiguration moments for me.

As I reflect on the encounters I have had in the past few months, they speak of transfiguration.

. . . from two seven year old children in First Communion class, one sharing her time when she talks with Jesus and the light in her heart as he speaks to her and the other child telling of seeing Jesus, authentic, true, transforming

. . . to the man who asked if I would come with him to a telehealth conference call….holding his anxiety

. . . to the Inuit woman sitting on my living-room floor sharing for the first time her story of pain, trauma and abuse, she being transformed in the telling, me being transformed in the holding of story

. . . to keeping vigil with my dying friend and eventually being able to say “It is okay to go”

In this second week of Lent, Jesus invites us to go up the mountain with him. He had a conversation with Moses and Elijah about his imminent death. Yet, in the intensity of that conversation, new life, glory is proclaimed by the Father.

What conversation will Jesus have with you, with me? What transfiguration moments do I recognize each day?

Margaret Ann Beaudette, CSJ

 

 

Reflection on Flint Water Crisis

It is not unusual for a group, to want “to do something” after a disaster. We want to help, heal, reduce pain, bring relief, and some balance through song, because our desires are deep and well-intended, loving gestures. At the same time, our intention “to act”, “to do” something, invites me to look deeper, “to wonder”, and ask the question, what might this situation be saying to me personally. What are the energies moving within me? How might such pain, loss, confusion, be also leading me personally to greater transformation?  

We can “do” but can we also allow ourselves “to be”, to feel the monumental pain of mothers with children, to grieve imperfections of our society and civic leaders involved in this horrific situation of toxic lead in the Flint water supply? Does this crises move me towards greater wholeness, oneness with others and self?  We do change and that is the paradox and mystery of pain.

Perhaps there is a challenge here. Can I listen to details of this tragedy without adding more waves of violence, anger and blame into our universe and towards others? Can I/we hold all the confusion and pain lovingly without judgement? There is no doubt in my mind that Divine presence is around us and within us, bursting forth in ways we cannot imagine, holding the pieces and threads of our groans, and us, intimately, in this darkness. Beatrice Bruteau in Holy Thursday Revolution, urges us “to exercise our imaginations to offset pessimism and despair”. In this situation as in so many other environmental disasters, consciousness expands bringing together new relationships and sculpting a new creation. At this moment it may not be clear, but in time, maybe hundreds or thousands of years from now, this water crises may be understood as related primitive roots of a new birthing. 

These are the energies I hold, the connections I make, and the new picture I paint. Seeking stillness. Open to a mindful presence. I like to believe that we as people, personally and collectively are evolving just like the original birthing of the universe and planet earth itself. According to Hildegard of Bingen, “God has arranged everything in the universe according to everything else”. Everything in creation is not perfectly shaped and beautiful, in fact it is as we have experienced before, it is both messy and Mystery.  We are on a journey, still unfolding.

Pat St. Louis, CSJ

Psalms of Lament in the Desert of Our Lives

During this Lenten season, as we reflect on Jesus’ time in the wilderness, we may recall our own times of inner emptiness. How often the Beloved weeps with compassion over those who are in deep sorrow and pain. God is ever ready to lighten our heavy hearts and to ease our burdens.

As I fondly remember my brother, John, on the anniversary of his sudden death, I present to you a psalm-prayer that I composed to help me put into words the anguish of my own grief. Over time, I have experienced that God has yet again raised us up and has not let our fears overwhelm us. 

 

Out of the depths of my being I cry aloud to You!

God, in your compassion, hear my sorrowful lament!

Let your heart be moved by your attentive listening to the voice of my anguished supplications.

To You I pour out my soul!

Our family knows of your steadfast love and faithful presence, Gracious One!

In the storms of our lives, You have been our refuge from one generation to the next.

We, your children, have found shelter and strength in your nurturing embrace.

For You alone are able to put our fears to rest, and transform them into peace.

As I ponder the mystery of life and death, I remember your Word: “Whatever the measure of our days; our life passes as a blinking of an eye! For the gift of life fades too soon away, yet how precious we are in your sight!”

John’s life among us was a cherished treasure from You. John is yours! His spirit has now been set free to soar as he is welcomed by You into new, unending life! Comforter of the widow and orphan, console John’s young wife and their children. Encircle them with your healing Light and enfold them in Your Love.

Indwelling God, we cried for help and You revealed your abiding presence to us. We will forever offer You songs of praise and thanksgiving!

You may find it helpful to compose a psalm-prayer for yourself to express your own experience(s). Use your own method or check out the this PDF “How to Write A Psalm”

Kathy O'Keefe, CSJ 

  

Lenten Practices in Action

In the midst of the world’s present chaos which consumes my thoughts and haunts my soul, Lent arrives on my doorstep admonishing, “Repent and believe the Good News; change your heart and live in God”.  

Today’s perilous mass migration of refugees and migrants from the Middle East in their dinghy-like boats has called for radical change in our hearts and deep trust in God as we reach out to assist in a myriad of ways. The hosts of people who have answered the urgent need have taken the Gospel message to new heights in their response to the poor and abandoned. We are heartened by countries who have opened their doors to embrace those forced from their homes and fleeing demonic oppressors. Lent provides an opportunity to support our cities and citizens who have offered their homes to shelter the homeless, feed the hungry, clothe the naked and nurture those who need us to share our very lives. This will be a challenging venture, the end of which we do not know and cannot see.  

Lent 2016 presents God’s expectations in the prophet Isaiah’s exhortation:

“Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?"  
(Isaiah 58:6-7)

Isaiah’s exhortation to the world today is as timely as when first spoken centuries ago. Throngs continue to flee the bonds of injustice and oppression. Many arrive on our shores hungry, naked and homeless. This Lent, let us offer our generous response to those whom we can support.

“Then will your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.  Then you shall call and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, ‘Here I am’.” (Isaiah 58:8-9)

Jean Moylan, CSJ