A Profound Holy Week

This year's Holy Week has been profound. Of course there is always the freeing-feeling joy of Palm Sunday, which then is followed by ever-increasing worry and anxiety, as we know where the long Way of the Cross leads.

It seems to me that life is like that: a longish period where we go along, happy enough, contented, and perhaps joyful. But that does not go on in an uninterrupted fashion, forever. At some point we realize, through the pressures of life or a health scare, a financial reversal or the loss of a loved one, that we cannot do this life alone. We may realize that, in our pride, we had planned to make our lives "just right"; that is, like whatever we experienced before "the tornado" - inner or outer, while we still felt in control, & that life was smooth and pleasant.

This is where Jesus steps in to give us His everlasting gift of Holy Thursday: his divinity, his strength, his hope, in the form of Holy Communion, with Him and with each other. What a profound, loving gift He has given us - He, who has the greatest foresight of all! How fortunate we are to be included, invited, called to His table!

In a way similar to that of a driver at the Indianapolis 500, each person is quite unique, has full responsibility for his or her choices on the long road ahead, and will need a number of "pit stops", for refreshment, resilience, and the strengthening of resolve. For us, each Sunday Mass can be such a glorious, rest-filled pit stop. We know that our Indy 500 won't go on forever, that the choices we make are crucial, and that those choices will determine our own well-being.

This is so akin to the choices Christ demands of us, our answers to which will determine the quality of our Eternity. What a lot of respect he shows us, in the form of our ability to choose, knowing that He will help us, if asked; but that He will not override our choices!

'Calvary' comes, for most people, more than once in a lifetime. We doubt, we are desperate, we despair. We pray to God Our Father for help!

The aforementioned trials over time wear us down. Life becomes burdensome. We perceive and feel the proverbial 'walls' closing in on us.

Then, somehow, sooner or later, we return to The Light. We find hope again, and joy. The Greatest Light of all is when we meet Christ face-to-face after the 'Calvary' of our own death. He brings us up from earthly darkness if we have been faithful to Him & have followed His often difficult commands, in love.

Consider this: Would you like to meet Jesus Christ in a spring garden setting, on a beautiful, sunny day, just the two of you, meeting for coffee (or wine or diet coke) and a lovely chat? I sure know I would!!!

Happy Easter, Everyone!  

Give Me Where to Stand...

I was 6 years old when my parents decided to move from Vancouver, B.C., to the U.S. It was a jarring move for me: no good-byes to my aunt, uncle and cousins; no farewell to my school, the very kindly Sisters, or my classmates; and no “please write to me!” exchanged with little friends in the neighborhood. To me, the fact that the U.S. had sidewalks was enough justification for this gigantic move. Ah, kids…..

In the middle of the night, my 20 year old brother leaned over my low-lit bed and said, “Catherine, I’m going now to France.” With that, he kissed me and he was gone. I felt unsettled, vaguely afraid. But, the sun rose and I was in my room, surrounded by all of my toys. “Catherine, you have 20 minutes. Choose the toys you want to bring to the U.S. Hurry!” said my mother. Huh? Well all right, I tried to pick some, & then my thoughts wandered…. She returned to the room, annoyed. “We have no more time! Here's your stuffed dog; we are going to America!” With that, she closed the front door to the house, we got into a taxicab, and were off. 

When we reached the edge of Vancouver, she told me, “Say good-bye to Canada now, Catherine. You won’t see it again for a very long time.” I waved at the tall buildings gleaming in the sun, and at the water in the distance. We boarded a train for California; and I recall her being cranky the whole way along.

The next day, my dear, irreligious father secured an apartment at our destination, having made an agreement with the Catholic School Principal that, if he had an address by 5:00 p.m., I would be enrolled in Grade 2. We all met at the train station in California, and the landscape was entirely different, as were the people’s accents, and the pace of life. We went home to a dinky apartment on the main drag.

The following day, my mother brought me into the Church. It was a huge place: a very high ceiling, gorgeous stained glass windows glinting in the sunlight, with a red carpet rolled down the nave to the altar. Blinking, I was awestruck, and I wondered why we were here. My mother, however, was focused on other things. She looked straight ahead, toward the Altar, and I felt her stiffen. There were no other people in the Church, and the stillness and lack of sound felt comfortingly peaceful. 

She took my hand and walked, determinedly, up the center aisle, looking all the while directly ahead. I wondered what the heck she was doing. We reached the front of the altar rail and she stopped, standing silent in front of a huge crucifix of Jesus, in a beautiful gold setting with a green silky backdrop. We stood for what seemed an eternity. “Catherine,” she began, “Jesus loves you. You are very special to Him. You are a child, and Our Lord loves children the most.” I thought, ‘Why?’ She went on: “You can always speak to Him and He will hear you.” We both gazed up for long moments at Him, hanging there and looking miserable and hurt. She continued, “No matter what happens to you, and no matter what wrong you may do in your life, Remember This: He loves you so very much. You can always come here and He will help you. You must never be afraid.” 

Wow! She had shaken my World. At that moment, in a foreign land where I had few familiar "comforts of home", and where I knew only 2 people; here He was, the same as He’d been in Canada. I felt safe in His Presence, as we went into a pew and my mother knelt to pray, to connect with Him. She had an important relationship with Him; that much I knew. He sustained her. I could see it. It had always been this way. She had peace. She had certainty. And she knew she was both safe and loved. It was always like that. 

She had given me a Place to Stand, a Hand to Guide me, and a Road Map, at such an uncertain and difficult time. And I never forgot. My mother is deceased today, but I would like to express my gratitude to her and to God, for this most profound gift with which she equipped me so long ago. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of my mother and her faith, shared. May she rest peacefully now, in your arms. As for me, I know that most children are not so fortunate, and I am so very grateful.

Lent Cartoon Jesus in the Desert

Here is an inspiring & thought-provoking 5 minute video (please turn on your speakers!) about how much Jesus Christ loves us. I find it quite moving, and hope you will enjoy it!

For those who are on dial-up, or who have slower computers, I'd suggest watching this perhaps at the the home of a friend, or at the library. You can copy down my blog address in the 'www' window above, & bring it to the library when you like ~ it's free, and I think you may find the effort to be well worth it. :)