Minute Meditation – Hope Blossoms in Mercy

“So many people ask to be listened to and to be understood. The Gospel of mercy requires generous and joyful servants, people who love freely without expecting anything in return. ‘Peace be with you!’ (John 20:21) is the greeting of Jesus to his disciples; this same peace awaits men and women of our own day.… It is a peace that does not divide but unites; it is a peace that does not abandon us but makes us feel listened to and loved; it is a peace that persists even in pain and enables hope to blossom. This peace, as on the day of Easter, is born ever anew by the forgiveness of God which calms our anxious hearts.” —Pope Francis

The story of Thomas in the Upper Room is a clear example of Jesus meeting us in those wounded places in our lives and wordlessly offering us whatever we need to move beyond the hurt into a place of healing, trust, and peace. He doesn’t scold Thomas for needing proof; he doesn’t condemn him for a lack of faith. He holds out his hands and gives Thomas what he needs. We each have our own struggles with faith, with trust, with love, whether in our relationships with others, our connection to a church community, our responsibilities at home, at work, in school. As we place our needs before God’s loving mercy, we open ourselves to receive whatever gesture of peace he offers us. Mercy is the sign of God’s ongoing presence in the world. Few people have made this more clear and compelling than Pope Francis. And it’s not just about realizing that God is merciful to us. It’s realizing that we are now called, compelled, even commanded to be merciful to all those people we meet. 

In his preaching on mercy, Pope Francis often emphasizes the importance of listening compassionately to people who are wounded, struggling, searching for God’s love. So often we want to rush in to fix other people’s lives. The next time you feel this urge, take a step back and first simply listen to and love the person before you. God’s peace passes all our human understanding. And often it lies beyond our limited human words. 

— from the book The Hope of Lent: Daily Reflections from Pope Francis,

by Diane M. Houdek

//Franciscan Media//


Meditation of the Day – All Creatures Are in The Hands of God

“All creatures that exist are in the hands of God. The action of the creature can only be perceived by the senses, but faith sees in all things the action of the Creator. It believes that in Jesus Christ all things live, and that His divine operation continues to the end of time, embracing the passing moment and the smallest created atom in its hidden life and mysterious action.”—Fr. Jean-Pierre de Caussade, p.21

//The Catholic Company//


Minute Meditation – Christ Our Hope Has Risen

“Mercy and Love have conquered sin! We need faith and hope in order to open ourselves to this new and marvelous horizon. And we know that faith and hope are gifts from God, and we need to ask for them: ‘Lord, grant me faith, grant me hope! I need them so much!’ The silent witness to the events of Jesus’s Passion and Resurrection was Mary. She stood beside the Cross: she did not fold in the face of pain; her faith made her strong. In the broken heart of the Mother, the flame of hope was kept ever burning. Let us ask her to help us too to fully accept the Easter proclamation of the Resurrection, so as to embody it in the concreteness of our daily lives.”—Pope Francis 

The Gospels of Easter week unfold the mystery of the resurrection through those who were its first witnesses. In their words and in their actions we have a model for our own lives. The first reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, shows us how Peter and the others were inspired to speak out in ways that they never dreamed of before the resurrection. And Matthew’s Gospel reminds us that from the beginning, there was opposition from those who felt threatened by this new movement of the Spirit. Our day is not much different. Sometimes our faith moves us outward with great joy and fervent hope. But sometimes we need to go within, to renew our strength and our courage in quiet times of prayer. Depending on the circumstances of our lives this year, we might not be feeling the exuberant joy we expect in this season of Easter. Illness, death, unemployment, depression, and other human realities don’t necessarily happen according to the liturgical year. But in a time when it seems the only constant is change, our faith—and even more, our hope—reminds us that God’s love will always be there for us. 

The beauty of the liturgical seasons is that they offer us a new chance each year to experience the richness of God’s work of salvation in our lives. Each year we grow a bit more in our faith. Each year the events in our lives offer us new insight into what the resurrection means for us and our loved ones. What one thing is different about your life this Easter? 

— from the book The Hope of Lent: Daily Reflections from Pope Francis,

by Diane M. Houdek

//Franciscan Media//


Minute Meditation – How Much Did Jesus Know?

Today we have the third Servant Song for our First Reading, which is a memorable set of striking images: “an open ear,” “a well-trained tongue,” that “knows how to speak to the weary.” “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard, I did not shield my face from buffets and spitting…I have set my face like flint.” (Isaiah 50:4–7). If this is ascribed to Jesus, as we Christians always have, then it clearly portrays one who is totally subject to the human condition, all the way to the bottom. He is a good listener and speaker, but in the end, his is an act of trust that another will “vindicate” him with utter confidence “that he will not be put to shame.” The “Suffering Servant” here portrayed is a human being just like you and me. He does not know the outcome ahead of time, or his confidence would be in himself and God to pull it off, which would then largely be a matter of the willpower of belief. Faith is so much more than strong willpower. In Matthew’s Gospel text, Jesus certainly appears to know ahead of time that Judas is going to betray him, and as much as tells him so. But he also appears to be saying that it is destiny or fate and “foretold by Scripture.” Is this foreknowledge the pattern of the Suffering Servant that he is referring to? We do not know for sure, although John sees it predicted in Psalm 41:10: “Even my closest and most trusted friend, who shared my table, rebels against me,” which he quotes (13:18). If this is the psalm Jesus is referring to, then the fuller meaning is clear: “Yahweh take pity on me, and raise me up!” (41:11). His victory is a dramatic reliance upon God, a mammoth leap of faith, not a superman stunt by a man who knows the full outcome ahead of time. We have done the believing community a major disservice by so emphasizing his divinity that his humanity was all but overridden. “He did not really have to live faith or darkness as we do, he knew everything from his youngest years,” most Christians naively assume. Yet Hebrews beautifully calls Jesus the “pioneer and perfector of our faith” (12:2). We cannot believe that his was a totally different brand of faith than the rest of humanity. Many scholars believe that it was only at the Resurrection that Jesus’ human mind and divine consciousness became one. Until then, he “was like us in all ways, except sin” (Hebrews 4:15). Now I believe you are much better prepared to walk through the sacred days ahead with a Jesus who shares, suffers, and trusts God exactly as you and I must learn to do. He walked in darkness too.

—from the book Wondrous Encounters: Scriptures for Lent

by Richard Rohr, OFM

//Franciscan Media//


Minute Meditation – The Thread of Hope

“The same God who called Abraham and made him come down from his land without knowing where he should go is the same God who goes to the Cross in order to fulfill the promise that he made. He is the same God who in the fullness of time will make that promise a reality for all of us. What joins that first instance to this last moment is the thread of hope. Therefore, what joins my Christian life to our Christian life, from one moment to another, in order to always go forward— sinners, but forward—is hope. Yet, what gives us peace in the dark moments, in life’s darkest moments, is always hope. Hope does not disappoint: it is always there, silent, humble, but strong.”—Pope Francis

These powerful words from Pope Francis remind us that hope is one of three “theological virtues,” along with faith and love. With St. Paul, we believe that the greatest of these is love, but hope is the virtue that keeps us going when even love seems to fail. Sometimes our ordinary use of the word hope can reduce it to something like wishful thinking: I hope I pass this exam. I hope my test results are good. I hope my children will be happy and successful. We use the word for things that are out of our control. We use it for times when perhaps our efforts have fallen short. We use it for all the uncertainties in our daily lives. Pope Francis reminds us that the real source of our hope is always in God’s faithfulness and mercy. Abraham has always been the prime example of this kind of hope. He left everything to follow God’s call. We all have times in our lives when we, too, find ourselves going forth into the unknown darkness. In those times, hope in God’s promise is all we have to cling to—and cling we must, sometimes with only our fingertips. The image of hope keeping us from drowning can seem all too real at times when we are overwhelmed by life’s struggles: addiction, despair, depression, death. The theme of our Lenten reflections is hope. The hope of Lent is clearly Easter and the resurrection. But there’s a deeper hope that is with us each and every day, that knows no times or seasons. It’s the ground on which we stand, the bedrock of our foundation. That thread of hope runs strong and resilient through our lives, caught at each end by the grace of God’s merciful love. 

— from the book The Hope of Lent: Daily Reflections from Pope Francis

by Diane M. Houdek

//Franciscan Media//


Minute Meditation – Trusting God’s Justice

“I entrust myself to you because you do not disappoint; I do not understand, but even without understanding, I entrust myself to your hands.—Pope Francis

The plight of Susanna in today’s first reading from the Book of Daniel (13:1-62) is familiar to anyone who has been abused by someone with greater power, more authority, a high reputation in the community. The judges used their position to take advantage of someone with no power, no voice, seemingly no defense. In a similar way, the woman in our Gospel reading is brought before Jesus by those who are more interested in defending their authority than in treating her as a fellow human being. In each case, someone steps forward to defend the innocent, to raise up the oppressed, to speak for justice and righteousness. But we know all too well that this doesn’t always happen. Even in the Gospel, those who drifted away at Jesus’s challenge returned to kill him and so reject his law of compassion. And so we come to the pope’s words. Trusting God when we are suffering, when we are being treated unjustly, when we are abused goes against everything our human instincts tell us is right. We long for a Daniel to swoop in to vanquish the villains and save the day. We want a super hero. But the Gospel reminds us that what we have is in fact a savior, an advocate. But sometimes we have to wait for the plan to unfold fully. 

Call to mind an experience of injustice from your own life or the life of someone you love. Recall your response to the situation, your anger, your hopes, your fears. Take all of those feelings and offer them to God. Let your heart struggle to feel the faith and the trust that all will be well.

— from the book The Hope of Lent: Daily Reflections from Pope Francis 

by Diane M. Houdek

//Franciscan Media//


Lenten Reflection for Sunday, March 14th, 2021

The Gospel reading explains the great love of God for His people. Do I love Him in return?

First reading: 2 Chronicles 36:14-17, 19-23

Psalm: 137:1-6

Second reading: Ephesians 2:4-10

Gospel: St. John 2:14-21

In today’s Gospel reading, we hear one of the most beloved verses in Sacred Scripture:

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” – St. John 3:16

Maybe we have heard these words so often that they are not surprising anymore, but if we stop to reflect on this verse, it is the very definition of the “Good News.” God Himself gave His Son for you and for me. God, who made Heaven and earth, loves us.

How do I respond to this love? Do I follow His commands? Do I pray often? God has given us a gift that we can never repay. But like a child who makes simple presents for his parents, we can love Him as much as we are able.

In this Gospel passage, Jesus goes on to say that some prefer the darkness to the light. As Christ is the Light of the World, some people did not–and some still do not–want His Light to expose them or their sins. As Christians, we must love the Light, love the Truth, and be transformed by the Light. Do I allow God to transform me with His Light?

For more information on how you can grow in your faith during the Lenten season, we encourage you to visit the EWTN Lent page here: ewtn.com/lent

In Jesus, 

Father Joseph

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Minute Meditation – God Hears Our Cries

What startled me over and over in so many of the psalms is the emotional contrast. First there’s often a lament, not sugar-coated or minimized, not swept away or judged. Instead, the suffering is eloquently described. For example, the early lines of Psalm 69: “I am wearied with crying out, my throat is sore.” Guilt, shame, reproach, and bitterness follow. Then, a but appears. “But I lift up this prayer to thee.” Over and over I found these sudden reversals. How did they make sense? After a few months of a daily morning practice, I understood the pattern. I would read many lines of anguish. Once the painful truths are expressed, in detail, not rushed, there’s a sense of being deeply heard and listened to—heard by God. Once that internal, intimate ache is honored, we find space in our heavy hearts to move around. We can take that leap of faith and trust, again and again. What the psalms began to teach me is to stay true to my human grief, to articulate it, to bring the fear and frustration straight to God. By doing that, faith will appear, often suddenly, always the balm we have been seeking.

—from the book What Was Lost: Seeking Refuge in the Psalms
by Maureen O’Brien

//Franciscan Media//


Minute Meditation – Faith is a Leap Into God’s Love

Faith is precisely nothing. It is nothing you can prove to be right, or use to get anywhere else. If you want something to believe in (which is where we all must start!), you had best be a totem and taboo Christian, with clear ground, identity, and boundaries. But that is not yet faith! That is merely securing the foundations for your personal diving board.

Faith is the leap into the water, now with the lived experience that there is One who can and will catch you—and lead you where you need to go! Religion, in some sense, is a necessary first half of life phenomenon. Faith is much more possible in the second half of life, not necessarily chronologically but always spiritually. As the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard wisely said, “Life must be lived forward, but it can only be understood backward.” Jonah knew what God was doing, and how God does it, and how right God is—only after emerging from the belly of the whale. He has no message whatsoever to give until he has first endured the journey, the darkness, the spitting up on the right shore—all in spite of his best efforts to avoid these very things. Jonah indeed is our Judeo-Christian symbol of transformation. Jesus had found the Jonah story inspiring, no doubt, because it described almost perfectly what was happening to him!

—from the book Wondrous Encounters: Scriptures for Lent
by Richard Rohr, OFM

//Franciscan Media//