Our Only Hope

For most of us, the beginning of Lent was like any other. We chose which Lenten practices we wanted to do, if possible, we made a point to go to Mass on Ash Wednesday, and we settled in for another 40-day season of purple. But we did not count on this: ending Lent and spending the Holy Triduum sheltering at home, social distancing, with sickness, death, economic difficulties and stress looming over us. We did not choose this cross. And yet, because of it, God is using it to give us a tremendous opportunity to more deeply enter into the sacred mysteries of Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection. What we need, now more than ever, is hope.

Hope is an overused and often little-understood word. Hope, as a theological virtue, is a gift from God infused in our souls at baptism, which enables us to “move and stretch forth toward the arduous good”, that is by hope we reach toward the goodness of God even when it isn’t easy. Hope enables us to desire God above all things and to trust Him for our salvation. Hope anchors us in God, no matter what storms or difficulties may arise. “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner shrine behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf…” (Hebrews 6:19-20).

While it is a gift from God, we must cooperate with God’s grace by exercising the virtue of hope given to us. Right now, we are in a unique place of human history. Nearly the entire world has been knocked off balance – our universal human frailty has been laid bare to us - where will we turn? To whom will we go? What do we really desire? These are questions each of us must answer for ourselves, and, because we change over time (even from moment to moment), we must answer them repeatedly.

Over the next three days as we walk with Jesus through his final days and hours before His death, consider the disciples of Jesus. Two of the most prominent are Peter and Judas. Both were intimate companions of Jesus for three years: they traveled with him, ate with him, shared in his ministry. When given the opportunity to leave, they didn’t, and Peter even professed him the long-awaited Messiah. But what happened that fateful Passover? Why did Judas betray Jesus? Why did Peter deny him?

We are told in the Gospel of John that Judas was a thief – he placed his hope in material goods. He must have had some abilities with money, for he was entrusted with the group’s finances and embezzled from them. We tend to think our weaknesses as our trouble areas, but Judas shows us that it is often our strengths and gifts that can be our downfall. Some commentators have also theorized that Judas was a Zealot and was hoping in a political Messiah that would free the Jews from the power of the Romans; if that is true, then he also desired worldly power. Whatever his motivation, and as with most of us it was likely mixed, Judas sinned against hope in his ultimate despair – he gave up on the goodness of Jesus, on the goodness of God and His mercy.

Peter also sinned against hope in his pride and presumption. He did not trust in God, but rather trusted in himself to stand firm by Jesus, and he failed bitterly. There is another way we can sin through presumption – by taking for granted God’s almighty power or His mercy. Many slip into some kind of presumption all too easily – we give lip service to God, but trust in our own abilities, our wealth, our power or our influence. We think we meant well, we wanted God’s glory, but we wanted it on our terms, in our way, and in our time.

Or perhaps we just didn’t take time for God. We were too busy with our life activities and told ourselves, “I’ll go to Mass / prayer / confession, etc. next week, when things slow down, etc.” Or we put off discerning our vocation or taking a particular action we feel God calling us to do. But the problem with this presumption is that eventually, for all of us, there will be no next week. By not making a decision or taking action, the door will eventually close for good. The result of these presumptions is that, at best, we become lukewarm in our faith, and, at worst, we because haughty and prideful, despising God. Yet, before we console ourselves by thinking lukewarm is better than prideful after all, we should remember Jesus told Saint Faustina that lukewarm souls caused Him His greatest suffering in the garden of his agony.

So what are we to do? Stand firm, take heart, and hope in God.

• If we want hope, we need to humbly ask God for it. Make frequent acts of hope.

O my God, relying on your infinite mercy and promises, I hope to obtain pardon of my sins, the help of your grace, and life everlasting, through the merits of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Redeemer. Amen.

• Avoid complaining, murmuring and making negative or critical comments. Avoid media, television and movies that have negative messages or dialogue. This does not mean living in a false optimism or denying the truth of something truly sad or evil; but it does mean we put things in proper perspective and keep our eyes on Jesus, His Kingdom and trust He has a much bigger plan for our supreme good.

• Hope is closely linked to the virtues of humility and magnanimity. We need to acknowledge our wretched sinfulness AND acknowledge that we are beloved children of God. The cross tells us both these things - it was the price of our sins, and Jesus embraced it out of infinite love.

• We practice magnanimity by seeking to do great things for God. And we need to see “great things” as God sees them. By the world’s standards, Mary, Jesus, the disciples and most of the saints were failures. But God sees and works differently – we need to be unreserved and generous, surrendering to God and let Him work through us as He wills. Begin with small acts of kindness for others. Write a friend or loved one a note or letter expressing your gratitude for that person. Keep gratitude and hope lists - the gratitude list for all the things and people for which your are grateful; the hope list for those you encounter who need encouragement or a boost of hope - commit to pray for them and check in with them periodically.

• Hope is also closely linked with the beatitude: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” By hope, we desire God’s goodness, we desire to see Him face to face, we desire heaven for all eternity. And we desire it above all things. To strengthen this desire, we must detach our hearts from anything that keeps us from moving toward God, the “Earthly P’s”: pleasures, possessions, power and prestige. The fifth “P”, pride, underlies all of them as self-centered love. For some of us, this means God will call us to renounce them completely. For others, he asks us to discipline our use of them, holding them with open hands. Begin by giving away items that are burdening you with clutter or which are little used. Give someone a little extra time and attention. Volunteer to help someone who needs an extra hand. Deny yourself little comforts and pleasures and offer your sacrifice to Jesus. If you are used to being in control and making decisions, let someone else take the wheel - this is a great way to practice surrendering: when we do this, we must realize it won’t go all our own way and probably won’t be done as we would do it, but the more we let go of control, the freer we become and the happier we will be.

Over the course of the Triduum, let’s enter into the Gospel passages we hear and read. As our chaplain is fond of saying, it is not a distant tale about someone else. This is our story. How have we failed in the past? How have we betrayed or denied Jesus? How have we run away in fear? Whatever it is, let us bring it to the cross. Let us stand with Mary and Mary Magdalene and John. Let us join our sorrows with theirs, and let us hope for our resurrection day and the eternal joy of seeing God face to face, to know Him as we are known. Hail holy cross, our only hope!

Preparing for the Light: Tenebrae

Throughout the 40 days of Lent, the Church has repeatedly echoed the invitation of Jesus: “Repent!  The kingdom of God is at hand…”  We have fasted and prayed, done acts of penance and works of mercy, and perhaps have stumbled and failed in some way.  But even these failures are gifts of God grace, when we offer them to Him, He uses them to draw us more deeply into Himself and our knowledge of Him and His mercy. 

Now, we enter Holy Week and the Triduum.  The Triduum is a liturgical season in and of itself, the three days of the year marked profoundly by the passion and death of our Lord and Savior Jesus.  The days are marked with special liturgies, full of silence, lamentation and sorrow.  Through these liturgies the Church looks on the face of Jesus and sees the reality of sin, and also sees her hope and deliverance through His offering of love.

In the monastery, the last days before Easter, the Holy Triduum, are spent as days of retreat as much as possible – all but the most essential work stops as the sisters are given more time to complete their tasks for the Triduum and Easter preparation, such as reviewing and practicing the liturgies, cleaning, decorating and cooking for Easter, but most importantly, spending extra time in prayer and meditation.  You are invited to join us in prayer and reflection, in the celebration of the liturgies and in time of silent prayer in our chapel.

Most people are familiar with the afternoon and evening liturgies of the Triduum: Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday, and, of course, the Easter Vigil Mass the night before Easter Sunday.  But there is also another powerful time of liturgical prayer during the early morning of these three days: Tenebrae.

Tenebrae is traditionally prayed in complete darkness, with the only light coming from a hearse holding burning candles.  As the hour of prayer proceeds, at various times, the candles are extinguished, representing the disciples abandoning our Lord.  Chantresses intone passages from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, which describe the sins of Jerusalem (representative of the Jewish people, and also of the Church) and entreat her to return to the Lord, her God.

Eventually only the center, or Christ candle, remains burning, until near the end of Tenebrae when its flame is also removed after the chanting of the Benedictus.  Then, in Dominican tradition, two chantresses stand at the front of the choir, two more chantresses stand in the middle of the choir and all face the altar as the chantresses and choir pray for Christ’s mercy.

May God’s grace pour out on us all during these holy days of Triduum as we prepare for His Resurrection and the triumph we share with Him over the captivity and death of sin.

Abiding in Love

On Holy Thursday, our community gathers before the altar of repose in our Chapter Hall and we listen meditatively to Jesus’ farewell discourses to His disciples (John 14-16) and his high-priestly prayer (John 17).  One theme is particularly prominent throughout these discourses – to remain in Jesus is to remain in love, to know the Father, to receive the fullness of God in the Holy Spirit, to have eternal life.  Before facing His own agony, Jesus comforts and consoles His disciples - His sons, His brothers - for He is compassionate for what they will undergo when He is struck down – they will scatter in fear.

Of all the fears and pain we face, there is one we find most terrible; yet no matter how hard we try, we cannot escape it: the pain of loneliness, isolation, abandonment.  To feel unwanted and unloved.  As He was fully human, this was part of the pain Jesus underwent throughout His passion, beginning in the garden of Gethsemane.  His pain of loneliness and abandonment reaches to the depths of human suffering when He cries out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”

We have many ways to try and numb this pain.  We seek pleasures, riches, honors and power; we search for the next high, work night and day to climb the ladder of success.  We compete with each other to see who will make it to the top, who will have the most toys, the greatest number of conquests.  Yet this only brings about more chaos in our hearts and lives, a greater feeling of loneliness and isolation, and so we seek even more pleasures, riches, honors and power.  And, with God’s grace, we come to realize it is all an illusion – it’s not real.

As we progress in the spiritual life, we still face these temptations, but they may take on different guises.  As Henri Nouwen writes in his book, “The Selfless Way of Christ: Downward Mobility and the Spiritual Life”, the Christian faithful in our culture face temptations to be relevant, spectacular and influential. 

We try to be relevant by having purpose: we define ourselves by what we do instead of who we really are.  It is the illusion that “unless I contribute something tangible (i.e., some bread for the world), I am worthless.”  Perhaps this is in having a successful career or perhaps this is having a successful ministry.  But our core identity is not to be found in what we do or produce.  To try and find it there is an illusion.  On the cross, Jesus could not have appeared less relevant - what could he do in those moments nailed to a tree?  What had happened to his ministry with his disciples and followers? 

We are tempted to be spectacular, to draw attention to our message and ourselves.  We organize and plan events, programs, write articles, produce multimedia, send letters, throw parties, or even post just a quick status update on social media, and there’s a temptation to use the results of those things to judge our worth.  “No one attended the event?  No one came to my party?  No one viewed my last YouTube video?  No one liked my status update?  I must not matter.”  Illusion – the truth of our existence is not what others say about us or how popular we are (or aren’t).  On the cross, Jesus could not have been less popular - he suffered insults and mockery from all who passed by.

Finally, we still face a temptation to fill the loneliness with power.  In the Lord of the Rings, in panic and fear, Frodo offers the ring of power to Gandalf, the one person who is so good and already so powerful that it seems reasonable to think he should be able to handle the ring.  There is a moment and then Gandalf cries out, “Don’t tempt me!  I would desire to use this for good, but through me it would wield something far more terrible.”  Power in and of itself is not bad – but when we seek it for ourselves, even under the pretense that we would use it for good, it corrupts us.  Our security, our identity is not in the power we may wield over others.  And the temptation to power is not just for those in business or politics.  How many of us try to control other people, to direct the lives of spouses, sisters, brothers, friends, or children because we think we “know what is best” for them?  Yes, we have a responsibility to help each other walk in virtue and holiness - parents and superiors in promoting and upholding discipline, brothers and sisters in Christ to encourage and challenge one another on the road to holiness - but that does not mean we may try to manipulate or control one another.  If we stop and are honest with ourselves, too often we must admit we are often powerless in managing our own lives – why do we think we could manage someone else?  We must accept our powerlessness, let go and let God correct what seems hopeless from our point of view, both in ourselves and in others.  On the cross, Jesus could not have seemed more vulnerable and powerless, yet He revealed true strength comes not from a show of power, but from love. 

So how can we respond to fear and loneliness?  Jesus shows us the way.  We stop running.  We admit that our attempts at filling the loneliness in our hearts with pleasures and distractions, toys and possessions, honor and power are futile - they don't satisfy our deepest longings.  We stop defining ourselves by whether we meet the world’s standards of being relevant, popular or powerful and accept God’s view of us in Jesus – we are His beloved.  God doesn’t need us…He WANTS us.  Abide in that knowledge, offer your past sins and present flaws, your loneliness, your heartache, your sufferings to Him and remain in His love on the cross.  Yet keep in mind, the work of the cross is God’s work, God’s way, not ours.  It is His grace that will heal us, transform us and empower us to be all He created us in love to be.  The way of the cross can and will bring us to rest, freedom, peace and order.  When we accept what He wants to give us, when we shoulder the yoke He has fashioned for us, which is truly light, then we will begin to see with His eyes and know with His mind and love with His heart - in essence, we will truly begin to live.  So today, let us accompany His mother Mary and the other women and John to the foot of the cross and abide there in faith, hope, and love, realizing that after the darkest of days and nights, He has promised the day of resurrection.

Something to ponder…

Jesus’ word on the cross “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” is the first line of Psalm 22.  Spend some time today with Jesus and His word: imagine yourself at the foot of the cross and slowly pray and ponder the words of Psalm 22 with Jesus.

Preparing For the Light: Join Us for the Triduum

Throughout the 40 days of Lent, the Church has repeatedly echoed the invitation of Jesus: Repent!  The kingdom of God is at hand…  We have fasted and prayed, done acts of penance and works of mercy, and often have failed in some way in those we had intended to do.  But even these failures are gifts of God grace, when we offer them to Him, He uses them to draw us more deeply into Himself and our knowledge of Him and His mercy. 

Soon, we'll be entering into Holy Week and the Triduum.  The Triduum is a liturgical season in and of itself, the three days of the year marked profoundly by the passion and death of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  The days are marked with special liturgies, full of silence, lamentation and sorrow.  Through these liturgies the Church looks on the face of Jesus and sees the reality of sin, and also sees her hope and deliverance through His offering of love.

In the monastery, the last days before Easter, the Holy Triduum, are spent as days of retreat as much as possible – all but the most essential work stops as the sisters are given more time to complete their tasks for the Triduum and Easter preparation, such as reviewing and practicing the liturgies, cleaning, decorating and cooking for Easter, but most importantly, spending extra time in prayer and meditation.  You are invited to join us in prayer and reflection, in the celebration of the liturgies and in time of silent prayer in our chapel.

Most people are familiar with the afternoon and evening liturgies of the Triduum: Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday, and, of course, the Easter Vigil Mass the night before Easter Sunday.  But there is also another powerful time of liturgical prayer during the early morning of these three days: Tenebrae.

Tenebrae is traditionally prayed in complete darkness, with the only light coming from a hearse holding burning candles.  As the hour of prayer proceeds, at various times, the candles are extinguished, representing the disciples abandoning our Lord.  Chantresses intone passages from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, which describe the sins of Jerusalem (representative of the Jewish people, and also of the Church) and entreat her to return to the Lord, her God.

Eventually only the center, or Christ candle, remains burning, until near the end of Tenebrae when its flame is also removed after the chanting of the Benedictus.  Then, in Dominican tradition, two chantresses stand at the front of the choir, two more chantresses stand in the middle of the choir and all face the altar as the chantresses and choir pray for Christ’s mercy.

Each day of the Triduum has slightly different entreaties; those recorded in this clip are from Holy Thursday.

May God’s grace pour out on us all during these holy days of Triduum as we prepare for His Resurrection and the triumph we share with Him over the captivity and death of sin.

If you would like to see the full schedule, check out our Upcoming Events.

2018 Holy Week and Easter Sunday at the Monastery

You're invited to join us for the celebration!