theROCK

The Merciful Love of God

Divine Mercy Sunday is my favorite Sunday of the whole liturgical year.

Why is it my favorite? Because it points us to the merciful love of God that lies behind the whole Paschal Mystery which we celebrated last week.

The word ‘mercy’ comes from the Latin misericordia, which comes from the two words miseria, meaning wretchedness, misery, or affliction, and cor, meaning heart. The Gospel is the revelation in Jesus Christ of God's mercy to sinners, each and every one of us.

Blood and water flow from the side of Jesus as the soldiers pierce his side as he hangs on the cross. The heart of Jesus is pierced, for you and me. The blood of the covenant forever securing my redemption, and water that cleanses me, as I die with Christ in his death and rise with Him to new life.

This Sunday’s gospel is the story of Thomas putting his fingers in Jesus’ side. He gets a pretty bad wrap but, the truth is, that’s you and me, doubting the love and mercy of God every step of the way.

Jesus really died, really rose again, and in his resurrected body he has the scars of his wounds. In Jesus, the prophecy of Isaiah 53:5 is fulfilled. “But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his wounds we are healed.”

On Divine Mercy Sunday, may we be immersed in the infinite, deep, mercy of God and be reminded no one is too far gone.

He is Not Hear

“He is not here, he has been raised” (Luke 24:6a). Of all the passages in the bible this is one of my two favorites, the other being the exchange between Jesus and the “good thief.” “He is not here” is short, simple, direct . . . and life changing. It is both mysterious and awe inspiring at the same time. These words of Jesus’ absence from the tomb are meant to comfort.

The first proclamation of the Risen Lord is especially consoling to me and I would venture to others who have lost a loved one. For me, she is not here is a recurrent reality that I still grieve over, even though it has been several years. This time of year, coinciding with the brief illness my wife suffered before her death, always brings me to a special place of attention. Some years, clouds and darkness reign and some years, warmth and sunlight permeate my thoughts. This year, as I pondered the paschal mystery, I stopped on, “He is not here.” It is because He is not here that I can live in joy and hope this Easter season.

Jesus conquered death and, in doing this, opened a way for all who grieve, who have etched into their daily lives that he or she is not here, to experience a place of hope and joy. Because “He is not here,” we can live in this world with a sense of destiny. We do not have to worry as to what will happen to us, what is to become of us. Easter is a time when everything both in heaven and on earth cries out with  new life—a new life we have all been granted as children of God.

I don’t know how the season of Lent has been for you but, from wherever you are coming, it is time to put aside anything that keeps you from rejoicing that He is not here. Step out into the bright morning sunlight and feel its warmth. It is a gift from God, that Jesus our savior and our Lord is not here…He has risen.

Jesus, Make Yourself at Home!

In October of 2023, I attended the Madison Eucharistic Congress with other members from St. Dominic. I was able to see and pray with the Eucharistic Miracles from around the world on that occasion, a work that was researched and published by Blessed Carlo Acutis. How fitting that this coming week, we will have the exhibit available here at the parish for us to meditate on and be drawn into the miracles of Jesus revealed in his body and blood. Carlo died at the age of 15, and was beatified in 2020. A first class relic of Blessed Carlo will also be available for us to venerate and reflect on this young man’s life and love for Jesus. May he become one of your new favorite “saints.”

While I was in Madison and was praying in front of his relic, I was drawn to one of his prayers: “Jesus, make yourself at home! Live within me as if it were your own dwelling!”  I meditated a long time on this reality, ‘live within me as if it were your own dwelling.’ How insignificant and unworthy I felt. I found myself in tears realizing the gap of this reality. This amazing God within me. How can this God come into my life, unworthy, sinful, doubting, imperfect, weak, and broken as I am? 

Lent is the time we look back at the past year, acknowledge our brokenness, and allow our Lord into our hearts, to heal us and open ourselves to His love. His love is what we often run from because we don’t feel worthy. We don’t want to look at our flaws and sins, our failures and wrong doings. It is tough to acknowledge where we failed. Yes, it is in our brokenness that room can be made for repentance that can bring us home to His heart. It is confusing to believe that it is in our brokenness that God can work in and through our lives. In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians we read, “But God, who is rich in mercy, because of the great love he had for us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, brought us to life with Christ.” (Eph. 2: 4-5).

What a great hope we have that our Lenten journey can bring us to new life by “cleaning out the crud in our lives.” Friends, let us make this Lent a new season for our souls. How can we do this? Come to Jesus in the Mass, in adoration, in silent prayer, and in the sacrament of reconciliation. When receiving Him in the Eucharist, allow Him to penetrate your heart, to change and renew you in His love. His love will transform you. Then together with Blessed Carlo, our prayer can be, “live in me as if it were your own dwelling.” Blessed Lent my friends.  Blessed to journey with you to His heart.