Lenten Reconciliation Service

Today’s readings: Colossians 1:3-14 | John 14:1-29

In Jesus Christ, we have absolutely everything that we need for the forgiveness of sins, except one thing. In Jesus Christ, we have our God who became man (and we celebrate the feast of the Annunciation today which marks the beginning of the Son in his human nature). We have in Christ the Saving Sacrifice, his life poured out on us to take away the penalty of our sins and nullify the sting of our death. Not only that, but Jesus Christ strengthens us with the gift of his Holy Spirit, who enlivens in us the desire to be close to our God and to put our sins behind us. That Holy Spirit gives us the grace not just to know and confess our sins, but also the grace to avoid the sin ahead of us. In Christ, the way to forgiveness is open. We have all we need – except one thing.

That one thing that’s missing is our own “YES.” Today we celebrate the feast of the Annunciation when Mary said yes to the angel: “Let it be done to me according to your word.” That fiat was her act of faith that made possible our redemption from sin and death. We too are called to make a fiat today – an act of faith that says, “YES, God, I trust you to forgive my sins. YES, God, I will open myself to your reconciliation and peace. YES, God, I will follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance away from my sinfulness and back to you.” And that’s why we’re here tonight. To say that “YES” so that all that the Father wants for us can happen in us. We are here to accept that wonderful grace, purchased at an incredible price, and poured out lavishly on us. All we have to do is say “YES” to it.

This Lent we have been striving to develop, with God’s help, new habits of the soul, new habits of faith, hope and love. The habit we are called to work on tonight is the habit of repentance. Because once we repent of our sins, turn away from them, and confess them, we can then accept God’s grace and mercy, and become a new people, marked by faith hope and love. But repentance is a choice that’s up to us; it’s a habit we have to develop, because it’s not a habit that we see demonstrated much in our world. Our world would rather take mistakes and put a positive “spin” on them so everyone saves face. But that’s not repentance. Our world would rather find someone else to blame for the problems we encounter, so that we can be righteously indignant and accept our own status as victims. But that’s not repentance. Our world would rather encounter an issue by throwing at it money, human resources, military intervention, lawsuits or legislation. But that’s not repentance.

So, quite frankly, if we are ever going to learn the habit of repentance, we are going to have to look elsewhere than the evening news. World leaders are no help at all, and even if the media were to see an example of repentance, I’m not sure they’d give it much play. So where are we going to get the inspiration to live as a repentant people? These Lenten days, we might look at the wayward son’s interaction with the Prodigal Father, or perhaps the woman at the well who left her jug behind to live the new life. We might look at the woman caught in adultery or even at the “good thief” crucified with Jesus. All of these got the idea and turned from their sin toward their God and received life in return. This is the habit of repentance that we have been called to develop in ourselves.

Brothers and sisters, sin enslaves us and makes exiles out of us. Sin takes us out of the community and puts us off on our own, in a very empty place. That exile might look something like this:

  • We ignore the needs of the poor and exile ourselves from the full community;
  • We judge others and thus draw a dividing line between ourselves and those we judge;
  • We lie and are no longer trusted by others;
  • We refuse to forgive, and are trapped in the past, not willing to respond to the present;
  • We cheat, steal and abuse the rights of others and thus offend the right order of the community;
  • We act violently in words and actions and thus perpetuate forces that splinter and violate the human community;
  • We withdraw from their church and diminish the community’s ability to witness to God and serve others.

The exile of sin is heartbreaking, but it doesn’t have to be that way for us. The Liturgy of the Word throughout the Lenten season has been showing us the way back. We have the wonderful gift of the Holy Spirit to inspire us with desire for communion with our God. We have the grace and mercy poured out on us through the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And we have the grace to do that one thing that’s missing; to develop that habit that makes us one with our God – that habit of repentance that brings us back no matter how far we have wandered or how many times we have turned away. Our God can still reach us in exile and he can still bring us back to the community, if we will but let him. Our God wants us to have nothing but the very best. He says to us in tonight’s Gospel: “Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”

And that’s why we’re here tonight. God is aching to pour out on us the grace of his forgiveness and to bring us to his peace beyond all of our understanding, and we have chosen to come and receive it. We have chosen to be a people marked by faith, hope and love. We long to develop that habit of repentance which allows us to receive the new life God has always wanted for us. So let us now as a community of faith examine our conscience and repent of our sins.

Solemnity of the Annunciation

Today's Readings | Today's Feast

2annunc

"Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word."

Today, we celebrate one of the most critical feasts in all of Christian history. In fact, it might be the critical feast. Without the Annunciation, there could never have been a Christmas. Without the Annunciation, there never could have been a Good Friday or an Easter. The faithfulness of Mary, even as a very young girl, is such an inspirational event. Nobody had ever given birth to God before, so she obviously had no frame of reference, yet, she is very firm in her fiat – her decision to exercise her faith: "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word."

We too are called to that same kind of faith, because surely the glory of God is aching to be born in all of us. We are called to bring Christ's presence to every corner of our world, every place where we are. The prospects of that can be scary, because we too don't know what the implications of God's work in us will be. We may be called upon to feed the hungry, or clothe the naked, or visit the sick, or shelter the homeless, or any of the other corporal works of mercy. But do we have those resources? Maybe not, but we are called to be Christ in those situations anyway. We might respond as Mary did at first: "How can this be?" But ultimately, we must respond that we are the Lord's handmaids an accept the call with great faith.

Mary is our patron whenever we feel overwhelmed by the task. May we rely on her intercession to guide us through the dark pathways of the unknown. May we look to her for an example of faith. May we follow her great example and let the Lord be born in us too, so that our Incarnate Lord can be made manifest in our world yet again. May we, like Mary, cry out in faith, "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word."

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Today’s readings

Back in the sixth century before the birth of Christ, the Israelites were in a bad way. They had been separated from their God by sin: against God’s commands, they had betrayed their covenant with the Lord and made foreign alliances, which he had forbidden them to do. As punishment, God separated them from their homeland: the cream of the crop of their society was taken into exile in Babylon, and those left behind had no one to lead them and protect them. Because they moved away from God, God seemed to move away from them. But he hadn’t. In today’s first reading, God shows them that he still loves them and cares for them, and promises to make them a new people. I love the line: “See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?” God would indeed bring them back and create their community anew.

The Israelites were in exile, but exile can take so many forms. And St. Paul had a good sense of that. For him, the exile was anything that was not Christ; a sentiment we would do well to embrace. St. Paul knows that he has not yet taken possession of the glory that is promised him by Christ, but he knows also that he has already been taken possession of by Christ. He wants to leave behind the exile of the world and strains forward to all that lies ahead, the goal and prize of God’s calling in Christ.

Which brings us back to the woman caught in adultery. We certainly feel sorry for her, caught in the act, dragged in front of Jesus and publicly humiliated. But the truth is, just like the Israelites in the sixth century before Christ, she had actually sinned. And that sin threatened to put her into exile from the community; well, it even threatened her life. The in-your-face reversal in the story, though, is that Jesus doesn’t consider her the only sinner – or even the greatest sinner – in the whole incident. We should probably wonder about the man she was committing adultery with; that sin does, after all, take two. And adultery is a serious sin. But Jesus makes it clear that there are plenty of serious sins out there, and they all exile us from God. As he sits there, writing in the sand, they walk away one by one. What was he writing? Was it a kind of examination of conscience? A kind of list of the sins of the Pharisees? We don’t know. But in Jesus’ words and actions, those Pharisees too were convicted of their sins, and went away – into exile – because of them.

Sin does that to us. It makes exiles out of all of us. The more we sin, the further away from God we become. And it doesn’t have to be that way.

Jimmy and Suzy went to visit their grandmother for a week during the summer. They had a great time, but one day Jimmy was bouncing a ball in the house, which he knew he shouldn’t be doing. After not too long, the ball hit grandma’s vase and broke in half. He picked up the pieces and went out back and hid them in the woodshed. Looking around, the only person who was around was his sister Suzy. She didn’t say anything, but later that day, when grandma asked her to help with the dishes, Suzy said “I think Jimmy wanted to help you.” So he did. The next day, grandpa asked Jimmy if he wanted to go out fishing. Suzy jumped right in: “He’d like to but he promised grandma he would weed the garden.” So Jimmy weeded the garden. As he was doing that, he felt pretty guilty and decided to confess the whole thing to grandma. When he told her what had happened, grandma said, “I know. I was looking out the back window when you were hiding the pieces in the woodshed. I was wondering how long you were going to let Suzy make a slave of you.”

That’s how it is with sin: it makes a slave of us, and keeps us from doing what we really want to do. It puts us deep in exile, just as surely as the ancient Israelites. And it doesn’t have to be that way.

You see, it’s easier than we think to end up in exile. Here are some ways people find themselves in exile:

• They ignore the needs of the poor and exile themselves from the full community;
• They judge others and thus draw a dividing line between themselves and those they judge;
• They lie and are no longer trusted by others;
• They refuse to forgive, and are trapped in the past, not willing to respond to the present;
• They cheat, steal and abuse the rights of others and thus offend the right order of the community;
• They act violently in words and actions and thus perpetuate forces that splinter and violate the human community;
• They withdraw from their church and diminish the community’s ability to witness to God and serve others.

Exile is heartbreaking. And to the exile of sin, God says three things today:

First, “Go, and from now on, do not sin anymore.” That sounds like something that’s easy to say but hard to do. But the fact is, once we have accepted God’s grace and forgiveness, that grace will actually help us to be free from sin. Of course, that’s impossible to do all on our own. But God never commands us to do something that is impossible for us, or maybe better, he never commands us to do something that is impossible for him to do in us. God’s grace is there if we but turn to him.

Second, God says: “Forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead.” Once sin is confessed and grace is accepted, the sin is forgotten. God is not a resentful tyrant who keeps a list of our offenses and holds them against us forever. If we confess our sins and accept the grace that is present through the saving sacrifice of Jesus, the sins are forgotten. But it is up to us to accept that grace. We truly have to confess so that we can forget what lies behind and be ready for the graces ahead.

Third, God says: “See, I am doing something new. Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” We are the ones who get stuck in the past, always fearing to move forward because of past sins, hurts, and resentments. We are called today to be open to the new thing God is doing in our lives. The way to open up is to get rid of the past.

For a long time I didn’t go to confession. I didn’t think I needed to. I grew up in that whole time of the church when it was all about how you felt about yourself. Garbage. I knew something was wrong when I was in my young adulthood and felt lost. I took a chance and went to confession at a penance service, and the priest welcomed me back. In that moment, I knew exactly the new thing God was doing in me, and it felt like a huge weight was lifted off of me. In fact, I was released from the exile of all my past sins and hurts.

I never forgot that, and whenever anyone comes to me in confession and says it’s been a long time since they went, I am quick to welcome them back. Because that’s what God wants. He wants to lift that weight off of you, to end your exile. All it takes is for you to see that new thing he is doing in you, and to strain forward to what lies ahead.

Tomorrow night at 7:00 we have our parish reconciliation service. If you have not been to confession yet this Lent, or if, like me, you haven’t been in years, it’s time to end your exile. We will have six priests here to hear you, and we are looking forward to the opportunity to do that. Would that we would all take this opportunity to forget what lies behind, and strain forward to what lies ahead. God is doing a new thing in all of us these Lenten days. Let us all be open to it.

Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Today’s readings

These days, we find ourselves in the middle of a section of John’s Gospel that leads up to the arrest and death of Jesus. But we’re not quite there yet, and if you’ve been following along these last few days as we’ve been hearing the story unfold, you can see that there’s a lot of confusion out there. The religious leaders are absolutely certain that Jesus is not only not the Christ, but also an imposter deserving of death. But the people aren’t so sure. They are hearing his words and seeing his deeds and realizing that there is something more to him than the religious leaders are prepared to acknowledge. The religious leaders can’t even arrest him yet, because the people are so convinced of his message that they fear the people will revolt if they lay hands on him.

But we may find ourselves on the edge of our seats, breathless at what is happening. It’s kind of like a movie that we’ve seen before: we know the way it will end, and we are in great anticipation of what is about to unfold. We know what will ultimately happen to him, and we know of the ultimate victory that will be his, and ours by grace. But we must wait for his hour to come and the fullness of God’s plan to be revealed.

We are on the downhill side of Lent right now. Have we been caught up in the story? Are we breathless in anticipation for Holy Week and Easter? In these last couple of weeks, it may be good for us to quiet ourselves and let God catch us up in the story as it unfolds. If Lent hasn’t been all you planned on it being: if you’ve perhaps neglected the fasting, almsgiving and prayer you planned to do, know that it is not too late to pick it back up again and let God catch you up in the story. It is never too late for God’s grace.

At the end of today’s Gospel, we are told that “each went to his own house.” My read of that says that included both the religious authorities and the people. As they went to their own house, they had to sort out the Jesus phenomenon and figure out what it meant for them. As we go forth to our own houses this day, may we take that same opportunity and let God catch us up in the story of his amazing grace.

Reflection for Stations of the Cross

Reading: Matthew 26:17-20, Matthew 26:26-30

“My appointed time draws near.”

In this statement, we see that Jesus was clearly very aware of his impending death, but we also see that that death was not something imposed on him by human beings. The sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross for our salvation was eternally ordained by God the Father from the very beginning of time. The time appointed now draws near for Jesus, and he is ready to accept the Father’s will. That begs the question of us, how well have we observed Lent now that Jesus’ appointed time draws near? In just nine days, we’ll be into Holy Week. These days of Lent, for me, have just flown by, and now we’re gathering at the end of it. The appointed time draws near. Have we been faithful to our Lenten resolutions of fasting, almsgiving and prayer? Have we grown in our spiritual lives this Lent? Where has God taken us this Lent, and have we gone willingly with him?

The recounting of the Last Supper in the Gospel reading this evening reminds me of these past few days. Our parish just finished observing Forty Hours of Eucharistic adoration and devotion. We gathered for Mass, adored the Lord, prayed various prayer services and heard some witness talks. Many graces have been received and we don’t even know what all of those graces will be yet. But we do rejoice that, knowing that his appointed time was near, Jesus gave us the most Precious gift of the Eucharist: his own Body and Blood, to nourish us and to be his Real Presence in the world until the end of time.

In these remaining few days of Lent, even if we have time for nothing else, may we take some time to be grateful to our Lord for his gift of the Eucharist, as he willingly gave his life for our salvation. The appointed time draws near.

Friday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Today’s readings

It’s annoying when people call us on something and they’re right, isn’t it? But the Christian disciple knows that it is the job of our brothers and sisters to correct us when we stray, and the Christian disciple receives that correction as a grace. That’s clearly not how the hearers of the book of Wisdom received it, and it is certainly not how the religious authorities in Jesus’ day received it. But it cannot be so for us. If our witness is to be authentic, we must always pray for the grace to receive loving correction in the spirit in which it is offered. We must pray, too, for those who offer it to us. And we must pray for the strength of character to offer it to our brothers and sisters when we are called upon to do so.

40 Hours: Thursday Evening Solemn Vespers

Reading: 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a

So I’m now in my early forties and when I was growing up, like a lot of people my age, I think, Eucharistic adoration wasn’t something that I encountered. In those days shortly after the Second Vatican Council, a whole lot of the old got thrown out to make way for the new. That was kind of like throwing out the baby with the bathwater, and it was never supposed to happen. Were there excesses and abuses tied in with some of the old traditions? Yes. But that never meant that everything old was supposed to go away. Instead, the intent of the Council was for everything old to be made new again. And so, in these days, we see a lot of people returning to the devotions that gave people a sense of the mystical and a glimpse of the beautiful and an intimate connection with God who is higher than the heavens, but also nearer than our own hearts. And the most beautiful of these devotions is the worship of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.

We’ve gathered here, then, to spend these forty hours in renewed devotion to the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. What has been beautiful for me to see is that this devotion has not been restricted to any particular age group, but has involved everyone from the youngest among us to our seniors. There have been groups of teens who got up early and came for prayer at three in the morning. Children in our school have been coming as a class throughout the day, and that will continue tomorrow. But probably the most touching to me was last night at the opening Mass, when so many families came together. They say the family that prays together stays together. I have no idea if that’s true or not, but I know that praying together gives families a common experience, and roots them in the communion of the Lord. Children who see a love in their parents that comes from their love of the Lord will certainly be able to look at others and love them in Christ. The family that worships the Blessed Sacrament together may be the family that makes it possible for others to see Christ in them.

Because that’s exactly what this forty hours should be saying to us. Yes, we worship Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. Yes, we receive Christ in the Eucharist. But yes, we are also called to be Christ to one another and to receive Christ in them. As we serve one another in gratitude, we are Christ for them. As we allow others to minister to us in our need, they are Christ to us. As we gather in faith, we become the presence of Christ for one another. As our service to the poor, needy, or afflicted radiates hope to those in need, we become the presence of Christ to others. As we love one another into a community of grace, we are Christ to a world that desperately needs God’s presence. The Christ in us is the same Christ in the Eucharist we receive and the Eucharist we adore. By worshipping and receiving the Eucharist, we become a divine presence in our world in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with our own efforts or worthiness, but is all about our Jesus.

And we are all the Body of Christ in whatever way we have been called. This evening’s reading from St. Paul reminds us that we are not all the same, we do not all have the same gifts, we are not all in the same place on the journey of faith, but we are all absolutely part of the Body of Christ wherever we are and whatever our gifts may be. None of us can have the audacity to lord our gifts or talents over others, because they are just that – gifts – and we would not even have them if it were not for Jesus and his gift of the Holy Spirit. As we serve one another in Christ, we should be moved with humility by the way God works through us. Jane Ehrlich from our staff was telling me that they had some difficulty finding someone to play Jesus in our living stations this year, because people felt unworthy. And you know, they’re all absolutely right. None of us is worthy to play Jesus, but that’s okay, sometimes we are called to play Jesus anyway.

You may find yourself called upon to witness to someone who doesn’t believe in God and feel totally unworthy of it. And of course, you are. But that’s okay, God will give you the words and the grace and you’ll be fine. I struggled with my vocation for a long time because I felt like I was unworthy of it, and I was absolutely right about that. I am completely unworthy of being a priest of Jesus Christ, but that didn’t change the fact that I was absolutely being called to be that priest, and it didn’t change the fact that everything I do as a priest is a result of God’s abundant graces that are poured out on me each day. We’re all in there somewhere. We are unworthy, but we’re called anyway, we are graced beyond anything we can accomplish and beyond anything we deserve, and we are all the Body of Christ.

It is our experience of Christ in the Eucharist that makes this happen. Our worthiness comes from Christ himself, who is really present to us in the Eucharist each time we receive it, and each time we adore. In the Eucharist, Christ washes away our unworthiness to reveal the icon of Christ we were all created to be. There’s a prayer by St. Thomas Aquinas that I like to say when I prepare for Mass. It begins like this:

Almighty and ever-living God,
I approach the sacrament of your only-begotten Son,
our Lord Jesus Christ.
I come sick to the doctor of life,
unclean to the fountain of mercy,
blind to the radiance of eternal light,
and poor and needy to the Lord of heaven and earth.
Lord, in your great generosity,
heal my sickness, was away my defilement,
enlighten my blindness, enrich my poverty,
and clothe my nakedness.

As we continue to adore our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament as we observe these forty hours, may our worship unite us ever more as families, ever more as a community of faith, ever more as the Body of Christ we have been called and created to be. May we set aside our unworthiness to instead take up, with incredible humility, the grace so freely given to us in this Blessed Sacrament. May we become ever more aware of the presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and in one another. May we open ourselves to the challenge of reaching out to others in love as we contemplate the great Charity of Christ in this Saving Sacrifice. May we receive with gratitude the bountiful graces of our God in every moment of our lives.

Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Today’s readings

Sometimes it’s hard for things to get through to us, isn’t it? One of my friends in seminary used to say that the Israelites had a pillar of cloud leading them by day, and a pillar of fire by night. So how come they couldn’t believe that God would take care of them? What more did they need? Today’s readings speak of that dilemma. The people did not, in fact, believe Moses or they never would have made the golden idol. They didn’t believe Moses in his day, nor Jesus in his day. Salvation isn’t supposed to be that hard. God reaches out to us in every moment, all we have to do is recognize that and respond to it. We don’t need glitzy human testimony. We have the Lord poured out for us Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity. How blessed we are to have such testimony to God’s love and mercy. May we accept that mercy today and always.

Opening Mass for Forty Hours Devotion

Readings: Exodus 12:21-27 | 1 Peter 1:17-21 | Mark 14:12-16,22-26

Brothers and sisters in Christ, it is truly an awesome privilege to be here tonight as we begin this Forty Hours Devotion. We are a people blessed and graced by our God with nothing less than the very Real Presence of his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, who has saved us from our sins and takes away the sting of our death by giving us the promise of eternal life. So it is with great joy that we look forward to these forty hours of Eucharistic adoration and worship, knowing not what graces we will receive individually and as a community during this time, but confident that those graces will be much more than we could ever hope for or imagine.

This evening's Liturgy of the Word speaks to us very eloquently of the Eucharist in terms of God's saving work throughout time. Even back to the Israelite captivity in Egypt, God was looking out for his people, hearing the cry of their distress, and planning to save them in every way. These readings then speak of a people marked by their being elected as God's chosen people. The ancient Israelites were chosen to be saved from their captivity and we have been chosen to be saved from our sins. These readings also define us all as a people marked by faith, hope and love.

In the first reading from Exodus, the people have not yet left Egypt. Moses is still trying to convince Pharaoh that he should let the people go out in to the desert to worship God, but Pharaoh is still stubbornly resisting, just as the Lord foretold. What we have in the reading, then, is the last of the plagues that will certainly cause Pharaoh not only to let the people go, but actually drive them from the land. That plague, of course, would be the death of all the first born of the land. But that death would not touch the first born of the Israelites, God said, if they would slaughter a lamb and sprinkle the doorposts with the blood. Then the houses would be marked as those of the Israelites, and the destroyer would not enter. This Passover sacrifice certainly marked the people for safety, but it also marked them in faith. They were given a ritual that would last for generations, one they still celebrate, in which they would recall this great saving act and pass that faith on to their young people.

In the second reading from the first letter of St. Peter, we are reminded that our redemption from sin and death was not just purchased with something perishable, but with the precious Blood of Christ. Because of that, we are to conduct ourselves as a ransomed people, as a people marked by hope – by a hope beyond all hopes, by a hope that was purchased at great price, by a hope that will never disappoint or pass away.

The Gospel shows Jesus giving this glorious, miraculous mystery to his apostles. "This is my Body … this is my Blood." We make that reality present every time we celebrate the Eucharist, in grateful remembrance of the Lord's sacrifice for our redemption. This beautiful feast of the most precious food marked the apostles, and all those who would be touched by their ministry and preaching, with the love of God beyond all telling.

Our God is higher than the heavens, more awesome than any of the world's mysteries, but our God also continues to be in our midst, continuing his work among us, continuing to gift us with salvation, continuing to bring us back to himself. We do not worship a god who has set the world in motion and then retired to view our history from afar. We believe in a God who is intimately involved in our lives and our history so that we can never fall so far from him that he cannot reach us. We believe in God who has sent his Son Jesus Christ into our world, to walk among us, to share our sorrows and feel our pains, to die our death and show us the way back to the Father. Christ is really present here among us as we gather, here among us as we hear the Word proclaimed, here among us as we receive the ministry of the Church, and here among us as we partake of the Eucharist, the great sacramental meal that he gave us as an everlasting remembrance. Because Christ is really present among us, we are a people who have been marked by faith, hope and love. We have received the grace of God's saving action throughout history and have been redeemed at a great cost.

We gather here then, for forty hours, to celebrate the nearness of our God and to worship Jesus Christ, really present here among us. We gather for forty hours because the number forty has always signified a sacred period of time: the rains during the time of Noah lasted 40 days and nights; the Jews wandered through the desert for 40 years, our Lord fasted and prayed for 40 days before beginning His public ministry. The 40 Hours Devotion remembers that traditional "forty-hour period" from our Lord's burial until the resurrection. In the Middle Ages, the Blessed Sacrament was transferred to the repository, "the Easter Sepulcher," for this 40 hour period of time to signify our Lord's time in the tomb.

This Blessed Sacrament that we worship in these 40 hours is the same Christ we will receive in the Eucharist this evening – and every time we gather for Mass. And that Christ we receive in the Eucharist is the same Christ we serve in our brothers and sisters. Our Catholic experience of Jesus Christ is never just "me and Jesus." Our personal relationship with Christ is important, but it is always defined by our communal experience. So these forty hours may challenge us to reach out to others in ways we have resisted in the past, because the more we see Christ as we worship, the more we'll see Christ in our daily lives.

What we celebrate in these days is that Christ is present to us in all of these ways every single day of our lives. We are looking for these forty hours to remind us of that great gift. Having celebrated St. Patrick's feast so recently, I am reminded that his Breastplate hymn sings of this wondrous presence so richly:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

May this forty hour retreat of adoration and worship of the Blessed Sacrament remind us that we are all caught up in the faith, hope and love that is ours in Christ. May we all in this time become ever more aware that our Christ is really present, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, every time we gather in faith for the Eucharist, every time we worship the great hope present in the Blessed Sacrament, and every time we reach out in love to our brothers and sisters.

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