Visitation Lenten Reflections

Isaiah 52:13—53:12     Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9     John 18:1—19:42 As I read John’s version of the Passion of our Lord, I am astonished at the narrative detail he offers me. He paints vivid pictures of the torchlit scene of Judas’ betrayal; the sharp-edged interrogation of Jesus by the high priests; the blatant and repeated betrayal by Peter; the frustration Pilate’s probing questions reveal; the brutality of the flogging and the mockery of the crown of thorns; the agonized plea in Jesus’ last words; and the rushed but respectful preparation of Jesus’ body for entombment. John offers his audience so much detail when he evokes these scenes that it has always surprised me to read this description of the ultimate scene so central to our faith: “ So they took Jesus, and, carrying the cross himself, he went out to what is called the Place of the Skull, in Hebrew, Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus in the middle.” Such starkness

Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14              1 Corinthians 11:23-26            John 13:1-15 Each Sunday, we Catholics remember together that sacred meal when Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to his disciples. However, it is on Holy Thursday when we remember another sequence of events that happened that same night when Jesus rose from supper, took off his outer garments, tied a towel around his waist, poured water into a basin and began to wash the feet of his followers. It is this ritual act, so beautifully demonstrated in the liturgical tradition of the Visitation community that I will forever associate with one of the most moving faith experiences I’ve had. It happened at another sacred meal when my Catholic parish joined with a nearby Jewish synagogue for a Passover Seder.   That night, at a Jewish celebration, the assembly witnessed the same ritual washing remembered in the Gospel of John. As we were planning our interfaith Seder, we discussed the various rituals associated

Isaiah 50:4-9a      Matthew 26:14-25 Like many people, I have experienced great sorrow in my life and will likely experience more. Today’s reading from the Book of Isaiah speaks so clearly to me having encountered tragedy, but also as someone who has been lifted out of the trenches by faith and community. One lesson I draw from the text is that being a human is hard. But, as followers of Christ, we do not suffer alone and we do not suffer in vain. When I read, “The Lord GOD has given me a well-trained tongue so that I may speak to the weary a word that will rouse them,” I understand that those of us who have suffered are blessed. Blessed because we can, perhaps, more deeply empathize with others and are best equipped to comfort others or listen without judgment as Jesus did. There are gifts in suffering with Christ, but they don’t make the hard times painless. If it were up to me, I would rather have not needed these gifts. But I see now we are not shielded from “bullets and spit

  Isaiah 49:1-6                John 13:21-33, 36-38 In today’s Gospel, John shares his accounts of Judas’ betrayal of Jesus and Jesus’ declaration that Peter will ultimately deny him. Regardless of how many times I read or hear these passages, I am always taken aback by the immense sadness that I feel.  While our familiarity with the story allows us to know that Jesus’ resurrection is just days away, my heart always feels heavy when considering Judas and Peter. I have typically been content to accept this as part of the general somberness that permeates Holy Week, but today’s reading challenged me to explore these feelings.  Imagine first the sadness Jesus must have felt at Judas’ absence of faith. John references Jesus’ distress at Judas’ betrayal; however, his distress lies not in any sort of personal affront or feeling of being wronged by Judas. Instead, Jesus’ distress lies wholly in his concern over the spiritual condition of Judas, in his deep desire for Judas to believe and

Isaiah 42:1-7      John 12:1-11 I hadn’t much cared for the story of Lazarus the last couple of years. In fact, I didn’t much care for any of Jesus’s miracles or healing stories. These accounts begged the question tormenting me the most. In 2020, our young son Peter died. So, why was Lazarus saved and Peter not? Why are some people cured of blindness and others not? For that matter, why are people blind at all in a world with a loving God? Why do bad things happen to so many people? My trusty tools—reason and logic—were not giving me answers. Peter’s death conflicted with how I thought the world worked. During my grief though, other experiences made me feel hopeful, held, and trusting amid this horrific suffering. These events too did not conform to my epistemology—I was trained to trust what I could prove and to discount what I could not. But, they happened. Life was not comporting with my ideological framework. Today’s Gospel lays out a framework for a deeper faith. Some turned

Luke 19:28-40              Isaiah 50:4-7                Philipians 2:6-11         Luke 22:14—23:56 Palm Sunday often feels like a roller coaster of a day, which can be emotionally draining. We have the exaltation of the Lord as he processes into Jerusalem. There is the last Supper and the institution of the Eucharist, another beautiful and generous gesture of Jesus. And finally, we have the betrayal, death of Jesus, and despair for the future. How could we start the week so well, and then end up so badly by Good Friday? It is joyful, thankful, sorrowful, and finally–wonderful. We’ve all had weeks like that in our human lives, but we didn’t think it could happen to Jesus. I don’t think the Apostles ever thought it could happen either. Palm Sunday helps me remember that Jesus walked among us in this broken physical world. It reminds me that he took on the difficulties of our human condition and taught us through examples and miracles to honor our mothers and fathers; to love generously

Ezekiel 37:21-28          John 11:45-56 This week’s reading depicts the covenant of God in which he promises a unified nation for all of the children of Israel. The people, however, must get rid of their idols and hatred in order for the covenant to be fulfilled. Once fulfilled, they will be cleansed of their sins and given David as their King. They will continue to birth new generations in this sanctuary through God’s covenant of peace. God describes this unified nation as one that is joyful and merry, a truly blissful place. Without trust in God, the Israelites would never have followed God’s covenant. Why would they when their idols were so tempting? By blindly getting rid of these idols and resentment, they were able to fully embrace God. For people in the present day, it may not be that easy to uphold their faith so strongly. I know that I struggle with it sometimes. I can’t see God and I haven’t witnessed any miracles, so why should I believe? I must learn to overcome my doub

Jeremiah20:10-13      John 10:31-42 In this era of politicizing everything, it can be difficult to find a comfortable setting where one can express one’s feelings and not be afraid of being labeled as an extremist of some sort. In these times of such sharp political divide, one side or the other fails to recognize the good that either performs. As a result, no one is provided “grace” and there is little attempt to understand the other’s thoughts and objectives. Christ’s goal while He was on this earth was to love and be an example to us all as to how we live our lives for God the Father; and have everlasting life. Those who were afraid of what Christ was asking of them, to give up worldly ways and be children of God, wanted to stone Him for blasphemy for saying, “I am the Son of God.” They were trying to devalue the miracles He had performed and thereby deny His impact upon the world. Deeds have always exceeded words, and Christ proved to be the Son of God by His acts and by His ul

Genesis 17:3-9      John 8:51-59 “My covenant with you is this: you are to become the father of a host of nations…. I will give to you and to your descendants after you the land in which you are now staying, the whole land of Canaan, as a permanent possession; and I will be their God.” The world’s three largest monotheistic religions, Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, all recognize Abraham as their Father of Faith. Ismael, his first born, the Patriarch of Islam; and Isaac for Jews and Christians. About 10 years ago, I stood on a 34-acre parcel in Jerusalem known as Mount Moriah. Muslims venerate the Dome of the Rock as the spot Mohammed ascended into heaven with the Angel Gabriel ( the night journey). Christians and Jews believe the Dome of the Rock stands on the place where Abraham nearly sacrificed his son Issac. To the Jews this parcel is also home of the Temple Mount, named after the Temple built by Solomon to house the Ark of the Covenant - the Holy of Holies. The western

Daniel3:14-20, 91-92, 95     John 8:31-42 “We will not serve your god or worship the golden statue that you set up.” This phrase really jumped out to me in today’s first reading from the book of Daniel. What an incredible testament of faith in the true God by Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Under intense pressure from the maniacal King Nebuchadnezzar, these men chose what appeared to be certain death rather than bow to a false god. How often do I serve a golden statue or a false god established by society? With all of the distractions and customized entertainment brought forth by today’s technologies, how often do I choose a golden statue over time with the Lord in prayer or quiet? I am also struck by the notion that, despite staring into Nebuchadnezzar’s white-hot furnace, these faithful men did not put the Lord to the test. Instead saying to their oppressor, “There is no need for us to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If our God, whom we serve, can save us from your

Numbers 21:4-9      John 8:21-30 Jesus has had it with the Pharisees. They’ve worn him out, the way know-it-all teenagers can frustrate a father. All along Jesus has been revealing to them his supernatural identity. He’d shown them who he is by performing miracles which have gone in one blind eye and out the other. The Pharisees didn’t listen or comprehend. Maybe they were too busy scrolling on their scrolls. When Jesus tells them flat out that he’s going away and they can’t follow because they refuse to believe in him, they joke among themselves and disingenuously ask if he’s going to commit suicide. (An ironic question to our ears since Jesus’ death will not be self-inflicted but ordained by God.) They didn’t get it. The last straw was “Who are you?” What they meant was “Who do you think you are?” Jesus tired of sparring with the Pharisees, of playing their lawyerly game of answering a question with a question, went all Old-Testament on them, calling himself I AM, all caps, his F

Daniel 13:41c-62         John 8:12-20 Jesus spoke to them again, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” The gospel today reminds me of how Jesus tries to share the meaning of His life.   In my mind’s ear I hear His words as if He is speaking to me now and trying to help me–“I am the light of the world”…“I know where I have come from and where I am going.” Later He says, “I have come from the Father and I am going back to the Father.” He teaches both what He came to give me, and how I can go about getting it.   I think about all that happened to Jesus in this context of the gospel.   If I follow the light of Christ, will I be taken on a similar journey in the safety of His companionship?   He is willingly walking by my side along this adventure.   His light allows me to see where I am going and how I am going to get there. I try to remember that Christian faith is not based primarily on ideals, rules, or

Isaiah 43:16-21      Philippians 3:8-14      John 8:1-11 As I started reading through all of today’s Scriptures, I was struck by the words forget and remember not , and was immediately curious with the idea that dismissing or shutting out the past is how God wants us to focus on the future. But as I ended today’s Gospel, I realized the reading was telling me that creating something new, something better, isn’t about forgetting; it’s about forgiving. And we can’t forgive what we choose to forget.   When we confess our sins at Mass and recite “…what I have done and what I have failed to do,” we are invited to recall our past in search of forgiveness. Like all of us, I have made my own mistakes – big and small – that weigh on my mind. But it’s that latter part that always gives me pause, what I failed to do . The moments I didn’t speak up or out or for a person or a cause that needed me. These were more often the quieter moments of my life, easy to forget or overlook because perhaps

Jeremiah 11:18-20       John 7:40-53 In today’s Gospel, Jesus is in Galilee teaching in a synagogue during the Feast of Tabernacles. He has built a following in the past weeks as he has performed miracles and spoken the word of God along his journey. When he speaks to the crowd on the last day of the feast, however, there is “a division” among them, some proclaiming him the messiah, others doubting him and some even calling for his arrest. This passage reminds us that listening with an open heart is crucial. Those who heard and accepted Jesus’ message in Galilee were open to his words and felt the presence of the Lord as he spoke. Those who were not, listened to him speak but did not hear what he was saying. They were cynical, convinced the messiah would not hail from such a backwater place as Galilee.   I can’t help but to draw a corollary to our human experience today. We listen to each other’s words, but how often do we hear what others are trying to say? With the evolution of