Dear Brothers,
As we approach the Sacred Triduum, I write to you, seeking to express my gratitude, prayer, esteem, and love for you in the Lord. This is my first Holy Week with you and what a strange one it is. None of us could have imagined the current situation we are in.
This Easter will be one like no other with the restrictions on public Masses and gatherings.
We will not be at church on Easter morning, we will not receive Holy Communion, and we will not be visiting friends and relatives.
It will feel strange and incomplete, but Easter will arrive, just the same.In these challenging times, I want to thank everyone — our priests, deacons, Religious, lay leaders, and faithful for your trust in the Lord, understanding of this unique situation in the life of the Church, your fidelity to prayer, and loving perseverance in the face of adversity.
With the coronavirus, this year’s Holy Week will be strange and different.
We will not be gathering in churches in large numbers. We will not receive the Eucharist. We will not be joining family and friends for Easter.
We all feel the vulnerability and struggle of this painful moment, wondering what the future holds for us, especially the elderly, ill, and unemployed.
But even in a normal year, Holy Week is the strangest thing.
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Needless to say, this global pandemic is unprecedented in our history, especially in terms of its impact on our daily lives. The consequences of our essential shutdown as a nation are far reaching and disturbing.
We are all praying for the victims worldwide — those who have died, those who are ill and suffering the effects of this corona virus. We pray for health care workers, first responders, and government leaders who must feel overwhelmed. I pray for our elderly and vulnerable populations, including the poor and the homeless. I pray for those who have lost income already and are economically struggling. We think of families who have their children home all the time. All of this equates to tremendous stress, anxiety, suffering, and fear.
In the face of all of this, God is inviting us to a deeper, radical trust in Him. In some ways, with our normal routines disrupted and many of our securities stripped away, we are faced with a profound existential moment — do I truly believe in God and confide my life to His mercy or not?
Our whole life of faith and practice of our religion has prepared us for this trial. Now is the time for us to truly let our faith in the Lord shine forth for others to see and draw strength from our witness. In some ways, with the suspension of public Masses, this time reminds me of the Babylonian captivity in the Old Testament.Protocol #: 015-2020
Whereas, during this time of disease, it has been necessary to take such drastic measures as the cancellation of all public celebrations of the Holy Mass in order to protect the public health by slowing the spread of contagion;
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Throughout the Gospels, Jesus steadfastly reiterates a central theme of his mission: He has come to earth to do the will of His heavenly Father.
His long nights of intimate prayer, the extended days of ministering to the crowds, His fasts and feasts, His tears and laughter all express Jesus’ fundamental desire to fulfill what the Father has asked of Him. This radical obedience to the Divine Will culminates in the events of Holy Week.
Msgr. James Bartylla, […]
One of my favorite poems is the “Hound of Heaven” by Francis Thompson, in which the poet experiences God as a hugely powerful dog who resolutely chases him down the pathways of his life.
Despite every attempt to escape, hide, or elude the mighty hound, Thompson cannot do so, ultimately surrendering to being caught, only to find that this creature, which he mightily feared, is actually his very salvation.
The poet speaks profoundly of his own difficult experience. Thompson was born in London in 1859, entered medical school at the behest of his father, but eventually dropped out of his studies and left home.
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| Fr. Brian Wilk, pastor of St. Bernard Parish in Middleton, distributes ashes to a parishioner during an Ash Wednesday Mass last year. (Catholic Herald photo/Kevin Wondrash) |
Every Lent, the whole Church goes on a retreat together with Jesus in the desert for 40 days. Through increased attention to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, we grow in virtue and holiness, more attentive to the grace and love of the Lord, more dynamic in the practice of our faith, more spiritually ready to celebrate the great Paschal Mystery, the death and resurrection of Christ.
The etymology of “religion” is “relationship,” so we deepen the relationships in our lives this Lent. Through prayer, we grow in our experience and attention to the Lord; through almsgiving, we serve and love others by sharing our time and treasure, especially with the needy and suffering; through fasting, we empty ourselves out, so the Lord can more truly reign on the throne of our hearts.
More Jesus. Less me. If I am especially faithful to fasting, there will literally be less of me, come Easter!
In a sense, Lent is more about subtraction than it is addition. By removing the noisy demands of my selfishness and the distracting clutter of my heart, God has greater freedom and capacity to live, move, and act within me.
This path of self-emptying is imitative of Jesus, who followed a trajectory of remarkable humility, in order to reach, heal, forgive, love, and save us. Jesus Christ was laser-focused on doing the will of the Father, radically directing every aspect of His life and personality to His mission.
