Station at Santa Croce in Gerusalemme Laetare “Be glad, Jerusalem! Hold an assembly, all you that love her: rejoice and be glad, you that were in sadness: that you may exult and be suckled plentifully with the breasts of her consolations” (Is 66:10-11).

This morning the Church opens the celebration of Holy Mass with a chant of rapturous joy. The dark violet of her Lenten array has become a gentle rose, the colour of the sky at dawn. The rigorous Lenten prohibition of flowers in church is lifted for this one day. And the first few notes of today’s Introit in Gregorian Chant are a like a breath of spring. The text cannot find words enough for its joy, and the melody is even deeper in its rejoicing.

Once heard, today’s Introit is unforgettable, and anyone who knows the music of the liturgy knows why. It rings with the sound of Easter! Its first few notes are identical with the last few notes of the great first Alleluia of the Paschal Vigil. This no mere coincidence; it reveals the underlying unity of the mystery. The Church cannot wait until the Paschal Vigil, so great is her joy already. Today, through the wide-open eyes of the man born blind, the Church looks into the dazzling Face of Christ, “the light of the world” (Jn 9:5), and cannot contain her gladness. She already sings the paschal alleluia but, for the moment, disguises it, wraps it in another word, a single jubilant cry: Laetare!

Joy, then, is the first distinctive note of today’s Mass. Jerusalem The second word of the Entrance Antiphon is Jerusalem, and this is the second distinctive note of today’s Mass.

Jerusalem is, according to the psalmist, “the dwelling of all joy” (cf. Because the temple is there: God’s dwelling in the midst of His people, the one place on earth where the God of Israel promised the abiding presence of His Name, and of His Eyes and of His Heart. He says to David’s son Solomon: “I have sanctified this house, which thou hast built to put My Name there for ever, and my Eyes and My Heart shall be there always” (1 K 9:3). How To Install Overhead Dvd Player In Honda Pilot. Today’s Mass is a way of going “up to Jerusalem” without leaving Tulsa. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is, in a very real sense, a going up to the joys of heaven, a foretaste of the joy that lies beyond the gates of heaven thrown open by Christ the Prince of Life. The psalm that accompanies the Introit sings just that: “O my joy when they said to me: Let us go up to the house of the Lord” (Ps 121:1).

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David, anointed king in the First Reading, prizes Jerusalem “above all his joys” (cf. To go up to Jerusalem is to go up to the highest joy. Light The third distinctive note of today’s Mass is Light. I mentioned that the liturgical colour today is rose like morning’s first glimmers on the eastern horizon. At Easter the sun will rise over us in all its brightness, but for the moment, we are content to rejoice in the rosy radiance of the dawn.

The heavenly Jerusalem is inseparable from today’s Gospel in which Our Lord says, “I am the light of the world” (Jn 9:5). The New Jerusalem that comes down out of heaven from God (cf. Apoc 21:2) “has no need of sun or moon to shine upon it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light shall the nations walk” (Apoc 21:22-24).

The same light that illumines the Jerusalem above shines for us here and now in Mother Church, in the proclamation of the Word, in the sacraments given by her Bridegroom, and, above all, in the adorable Sacrament of His Body and Blood. “Enter His presence,” she says, and be illumined” (Ps 33:6). Week after week, we come to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, limited by our human blindness, sometimes stumbling along in the blindness of sin. Those who think they see clearly are the blindest people of all, and those who admit their blindness, or at least their very clouded vision, are those to whom Our Lord promises light and sight.

What takes place in Baptism? The victory of light over darkness. What happens when a priest pronounces the words of absolution in confession? The renewal of that victory of light over darkness. What changes when we approach the altar to receive the Sacred Body and Precious Blood of the Light of the World?

Darkness is put to flight. Today’s Communion Antiphon reveals what Our Lord would do for each one of us: “The Lord made clay of spittle, and spread it on my eyes: and I went, and washed, and recovered my sight, and I found faith in God” (Jn 9:11). What the antiphon describes in the words of the man born blind, Holy Communion makes happen, here and now. The chalice, with its water and blood from the wound in the side of the Crucified, is infinitely more than the mysterious pool of Siloe.

None other than Saint Thomas Aquinas saw Holy Communion as healing from blindness. “I come to it,” he says, “a blind man to the radiance of eternal light” (Prayer Before Mass, Roman Missal). Mother Church The fourth and last distinctive note of today’s Mass is that the Holy Catholic Church is our Mother.

She is our Mother because we were born of her womb in Baptism. She is our Mother because, as the Entrance Antiphon sings, she “suckles us abundantly with the breasts of her consolations” (Is 66:11). She is our Mother because she cares for us in our weaknesses, welcomes us home after every journey, and never fails to provide for us a table laden with good things. She is the merciful Mother of children who do not always see clearly.

She is the Mother of children whose vision is impaired by sin. She is the Mother of those who stumble in the darkness. She is the Mother of those who “sit in the shadowlands” (Lk 1:79), waiting for the first glimmers of the rising sun. She is the Mother of those who say with Blessed John Henry Newman, “The night is dark and I am far from home.” There are in every life moments, hours, and even long seasons, when we cannot trust our own seeing, when obscurity surrounds us on all sides. Who has not said with the psalmist at one time or another, “Friends and neighbours gone, a world of shadows is all my company” (Ps 87:19)? In a world of shadows a Mother waits for all who would come home to the light.

There are candles shining in all her windows. There is a fire in her hearth, and a blaze of light shining through her open door. “She has sent out her maids to call from the highest places in the town, ‘Whosoever is a little one, let him come to me'” (Pr 9:3-4). Plenteous Grace For some, Laetare Sunday, instead of being a day of rejoicing in the light, may be one of weeping quietly in some dark corner, of not seeing, not understanding, and not knowing why. If your soul is not attuned to the jubilant notes of the Introit today, cling to the experience of the man born blind related in the Gospel. There is plenteous grace for all in the one as in the other. Joy in the Heart of the Church Laetare Sunday: the Sunday of Joy, the Sunday of the New Jerusalem, the Sunday of Light, the Sunday of Mother Church.

Holy Week will soon be upon us. The mysteries of the Lord’s Passion and Resurrection are fast approaching, the mysteries of our joy, the end of every sadness, the victory of light over every darkness. It is time to go up to Jerusalem, time for Jerusalem to descend out of heaven to us. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is just that: the assumption of the Church into heaven’s joy, the descent of heaven’s joy into the heart of the Church.

Saturday of the Second Week of Lent Micah 7:14-15, 18-20 Psalm 102:1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12 Luke 15:1-3, 11-32 Draw Near to Hear The first line of today’s Holy Gospel is the key to all the rest: “The tax collectors and the sinners were all drawing near to hear Jesus” (Lk 15:1). They drew near to hear Jesus; this is the listening that changes life, and in this, tax collectors and sinners are our teachers. One cannot hear rightly while remaining at a distance. God Seeking Man Our Lord says, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him” (Jn 6:44). The Father seeks us to draw us close to the Son. In the canticle at Lauds we sang: “He sought them out in the wilderness, there in the fearful desert spaces, gave them the guidance, taught them the lessons they needed, guarded them as if they had been the apple of His eye” (Dt 32:10).

God seeks us. When one consents to being found by Him, a flame of desire begins to flicker within: an inarticulate yearning to be enfolded in God’s protecting love, and to be sheltered in the “shadow of His wings” (Ps 16:8). Repentance One begins to turn one’s life around when one begins to experience one’s need for God painfully.

So it was with the prodigal son. “Then he came to himself and said, How many hired servants there are in my father’s house, who have more bread than they can eat, and here am I perishing with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and say to him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee; I am not worthy now to be called thy son; treat me as one of thy hired servants” (Lk 15: 17-18). Feeling the Pain One experiences this painful awareness of the need for God in different ways.

Loneliness, for example, can be an immense grace if it orients the heart towards God alone. Failure can serve the designs of God’s mercy when it obliges one to seek Him, to call to Him out of the depths of one’s brokenness. Illness can become a gift; the awareness of one’s weakness can become the discovery of Christ’s unfailing strength.

Disappointments in human love can lead to drive one to the only Love that never deceives nor disappoints. God alone can satisfy the deepest longings of the heart. Upon my Bed by Night The bride of the Canticle of Canticles describes the experience of every human heart tormented by the desire for God: “Upon my bed by night, I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not; I called him but he gave no answer. I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the squares; I will seek him whom my soul loves” (Ct 3:1-2). The nocturnal disquiet of the beloved in the Canticle is the image of restlessness in the soul. There is, within each one, an appetite more relentlessly gnawing than the appetites of the senses: the appetite for intimacy with God.

Where Art Thou? The Word of God Himself has come down into the streets and squares of the city in search of all who search for Him, just as in the first pages of Genesis, the Father walked in paradise in the evening breeze (Gn 3:8) and called to Adam, saying, “Where art thou?” For this very reason does He abide, day and night, in the tabernacles of our churches. There too does He say, as the Father said in paradise, “Where art thou?” For He who has come in search of us, He who waits for us, is left alone. Though He searches for every man, there are few, very few, who search for Him. Though He is patient in waiting for man; there are few, very few who know how to wait in silence for Him. He Entertains Sinners Jesus gave sinners a warm and kindly reception.

This troubled the Pharisees and the scribes, just as the elder brother was troubled by the father’s lavish welcome of the prodigal son. Ets3 Professional Keygen. “Here is a man,” they said, “that entertains sinners and eats with them” (Lk 15:2). The Pharisees and the scribes felt snubbed and, in the parable, the elder son was angry and refused to go into the feast. Our Lord welcomes all who seek his company. He excludes no one, keeps no one at a distance.

The faithful and law-abiding, nonethless, must be willing to mingle with transgressors and wastrels, for these are the preferred guests of the Sacred Heart. By sharing His table with sinners, Our Lord reveals the mystery of the Divine Hospitality. “If a man has any love for me, he will be true to my word, and then he will win my Father’s love, and we will both come to him, and make our continual abode with him” (Jn 14:23-24). The Sacraments Every decision to approach the sacraments replicates the resolve of the prodigal son: “I will arise and go to my father” (Lk 15:18).

The Father, while we are still at a distance, sees us coming. He is moved with compassion.

He runs to enfold us in His embrace and cover us with kisses. This is why one must situate Confession and Absolution on the road to the banquet of the Most Holy Eucharist. The Sacrament of Penance prepares us for Holy Communion; it is an outpouring of the compassion of the Son; it is the embrace of the Father; it is the welcoming kiss of the Holy Spirit.

Divine Hospitality Confession and Holy Communion are where the dead are raised to life. Confession and Holy Communion are where the lost are found.

Confession and Holy Communion are mysteries of the mercy and the hospitality of God towards sinners. Divine hospitality is not extended to sinners as a gracious afterthought; it is offered first to sinners. In Our Father’s House Today again, the house of our Father resounds with music and dancing (Lk 15:25). If one follows the sound of that music, one will be led to the altar and to the immolated Lamb. A cloud of witnesses surround the altar, singing and proclaiming with an unspeakable joy: “He welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Lk 15:2). Blessed are those called to the Supper of the Lamb.

Situated amidst pasture land and forest in the eastern reaches of County Meath, Silverstream Priory was founded in 2012 at the invitation of the Most Reverend Michael Smith, Bishop of Meath, and canonically erected as an autonomous monastery of diocesan right on 25 February 2017. The property belonged, from the early 15th century, to the Preston family, premier Viscounts of Ireland and Lords of Gormanston.

In 1843 Thomas Preston (1817-1903), son of Jenico Preston, the 12th Viscount (1775-1860), built what today is Silverstream Priory. Silverstream Priory is a providential realisation of the cherished project of Abbot Celestino Maria Colombo, O.S.B.

(1874–1935), who, following the impetus given by Catherine–Mectilde de Bar in the 17th century, sought to establish a house of Benedictine monks committed to ceaseless prayer before the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar in a spirit of reparation. The community of Silverstream Priory holding to the use of Latin and Gregorian Chant, celebrate the Divine Office in its traditional Benedictine form and Holy Mass in the “Usus Antiquior” of the Roman Rite.

Praying and working in the enclosure of the monastery, the monks of Silverstream keep at heart the sanctification of priests labouring in the vineyard of the Lord. They undertake various works compatible with their monastic vocation, notably the development of the land and gardens, hospitality to the clergy in need of a spiritual respite, scholarly work, and publishing.

Hate, in a Holy Week- 3rd Week of Lent- Friday- Mark 12: 28- 34 The text of today corresponds to the Tuesday of the Holy Week. Jesus in Mark Chapter 11 entered Jerusalem on a donkey in triumph.

He spends the evening of Palm Sunday at Bethany and returns to the temple on Monday morning, driving away the money changers. The next day was testing and trying Tuesday. All through chapter 11 and 12, the Pharisees, Sadducees and their common enemy the Herodians, now ‘bosom buddies’ in their anti-Jesus cause, are out to trap the Lord. They are relentless. “What is your authority?”, they ask and so He tells them the parable of the wicked tenants. Too late do they realise that He has turned the tables against them (12:12).

So they send the Pharisees and the Herodians, hated enemies, now friends, in an evil cause, to trap Him. This time the issue is about paying taxes. When they fail again they send in the big guns, the Sadducees, the interpreters of the law, with the question on the resurrection. In all this insanity of hate, a scribe of seemingly good disposition, “seeing that He (Jesus) had answered well”, asks Him a question that was once asked to the great Jewish rabbi, Hillel; ‘Which is the greatest commandment?’ Hillel’s answer was, “What you hate for yourself, do not do to your neighbour.” So was Jesus’ answer very different from the Rabbis? Jesus’ answer is a combination of orthodoxy and His fondness for going to the root of things (JBC). In answering the question, Jesus combined two Old Testament instructions. He put the traditional Shemma (Hebrew: hear), found in Deuteronomy 6:4-5 (words that are still recited twice daily by persons of the Jewish faith), and the law of Leviticus 19:8, together.

Jesus brought together the balance, or the vertical and horizontal dimension, which our lives must have. Deuteronomy speaks of our love for God. Now think of a vertical beam stretching from the earth to heaven. Hold that image. Next, Jesus quotes Leviticus which talks of my love for my neighbour.

Now go back to the image of the vertical beam and to that add a horizontal beam of ‘my love for my neighbour’. You got it right, it forms a cross. The teaching of Jesus has a vertical dimension and a horizontal dimension. Our lives must have both elements-love for God and and love for others.

And in the cross, Jesus did exactly that! This Jerusalem scribe approached Jesus with heart and mind in the right place.

He could see that the attack from the Herodians, Sadducees and Pharisees was merely a personal attack. He clearly loved God and his neighbour unlike the hate that surrounded Jesus. It is this quality of heart and mind that evokes congratulations from Jesus, who saw that ‘he had answered wisely’. Imagine the Lord saying that to you, ‘you have lived well, loved much and spoken wisely.” That would certainly make your year, forget your day! For most people, hate and anger is a venial sin to be confessed as a cushioning to one’s more grievous sins. After all, most of us only indulge in these ‘petty sins’ and murder has not even crossed our mindor perhaps that one teeny tiny time!

But the game changes when one sees the seed of murder in hate. The Jewish authorities did not begin their campaign against Jesus with thoughts of murder, yet soon enough they cried out, ‘crucify him’. Hate begins with a shade of red in our heads and transferred as blood onto our palms. So do you hate? And if yes, where are you in your ‘Holy week of hate?’ Today’s text is taken from the ‘Tuesday’ of Holy week. In two days Jesus will be betrayed and spend a long dark night of betrayal before His death. So before your heart begins to chant ‘Crucify whomever you hate,’ take a breath, think like the scribe who chose to ask the right questions, seeking truth, not fanning hate.

Written on behalf of the Holy Spirit and in gratitude to God for the gift of life. Fr Warner D’Souza may be contacted on whatsap on +91-. If you miss your daily reflection, simply log into http://www.pottypadre.com/.