Good Friday Reflection . . .

 

https://www.catholicwomenpreach.org/preaching/04032026

Yes, the Simons, the Veronicas, the weeping women are all still present in the face of executions today. But at the same time, we continue to see people today who echo the call of the crowd, like those bolded words in the misal. The phrasing has changed, but the spirit feels hauntingly familiar:

“They should get the death penalty.”
“We’re seeking the death penalty.”
“We will pursue the death penalty.”

We hear our political leaders say it. We hear our justice department say it. We hear it in courtrooms. And sometimes we hear it around our own dinner tables.

I often hear, “We’re just following the law.” But the story of Jesus reminds me how easy it is to pass responsibility. Religious leaders appealed to Pilate. Pilate appealed to the crowd. Each person had a role. Each person could say, “It wasn’t really me.”

And yet, it was all of them. And in ways I think we would rather not admit, it is all of us too.

So the question lingers for me: Who will we be? Will we be part of the crowd, swept up in fear or anger or even ignorance, crying out for death? Or will we step onto the road; shouldering weight, offering mercy, daring to weep?

In 2015, Pope Francis invited us into this contemplation during the Way of the Cross on Good Friday. He said, “We gaze at you, Jesus, as you are nailed to the cross, [...] And our conscience is troubled.”

He says, “We anxiously ask: When will the death penalty, still practiced in many states, be abolished? [...] When will every form of torture and the violent killing of innocent persons come to an end? Your Gospel is the surest defense of the human person, of every human being.”

On this Good Friday, as we gaze at Jesus nailed to the cross, our conscience should be troubled. Because now we know what we once did not. We know what it means to join the crowd, to speak those bolded words aloud, "Crucify him."

There is an invitation in this discomfort: not simply to remember the story or blindly speak the words, but to recognize our place within it.

With open eyes and awakened hearts, we ask: Who will you be this Good Friday?

 

Another Sorrowful Mystery . . .

 A poem posted by Fr. Stephen Verbest . . .

 
A poem by an unknown author, titled "Two Mothers", tells of their anonymous heavenly encounter as follows: 
 
A long time ago, so I have been told,
 Two mothers once met on streets paved with gold.
“By the stars in your crown,” said Mary to the other
“I see that on earth, you too, were a mother.
"And by, the violet-tinted halo you wear
 You, too, have known sorrow and deepest despair.”

“Ah yes,” she replied, “I once had a son.
 A sweet little lad, full of laughter and fun.
“But tell of your child.”
 “Oh, I knew I was blessed
 From the moment I first held him close to my breast,
 And my heart almost burst with the joy of that day.”
“Ah, yes,” said the other, “I felt the same way.”
 
The former continued: “The first steps he took-
So eager and breathless; the sweet startled look
 Which came over his face – he trusted me so.”

“Ah, yes,” said the other, “How well do I know."
 
“But soon he had grown to a tall handsome boy,
 So stalwart and kind – and it gave me such joy
 To have him just walk down the street by my side.”

“Ah yes," said the other mother, “I felt the same pride.”

“How often I shielded and spared him from pain.
 And when he for others was so cruelly slain.
 When they crucified him – and they spat in his face
 How gladly would I have hung there in his place!”

A moment of silence – “Oh, then you are indeed
 The mother of Christ!”; and she fell on one knee.
 But the Blessed one raised her up, drawing her near.
 And kissed from the cheek of the mother, a tear.

“Tell me the name of the son you love so,
 That I may share with you in your grief and your woe.”
She lifted her eyes, looking straight at the other.
“He was Judas Iscariot: I am his mother.”

Holy Thursday . . . so many feet to wash . .

 Holy Thursday ~ God in an Apron!

 

 A Prayer for Washing Feet by Macrina Wiederkehr

(from Seasons of Your Heart)

Jesus, is it really you kneeling before me with the bowl of water in your hands? I’d feel more comfortable if we could trade places. I wouldn't mind kneeling before you, but you before me? I can’t let you love me that much. Your piercing eyes suddenly heal my pride. I’m able to accept your gift of love and I am blessed. O Gift Giving God, I blush with the memory of gifts I've refused because they weren't given my way.

God in an Apron by Macrina Wiederkehr
(from Seasons of Your Heart)

Supper was special that night. There was both a heaviness and a holiness hanging in the air. We couldn't explain the mood. It was sacred, yet sorrowful.  Gathered around that table eating that solemn, holy meal seemed to us the most important meal we had ever sat down to eat.

We were dwelling in the heart of mystery. Though dark the night, hope felt right as if something evil was about to be conquered. And then suddenly the One we loved startled us all. He got up from the table and put on an apron. Can you imagine how we felt?

 God in an apron! Tenderness encircled us as He bowed before us. He knelt and said, “I choose to wash your feet because I love you.” 

God in an apron, kneeling. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was embarrassed until his eye met mine.  I sensed my value then. He touched my feet. He held them in his strong, brown hands. He washed them. I can still feel the water. I can still feel the touch of his hands. I can still see the look in his eyes.

The he handed me the towel and said, “As I have done so you must do.” Learn to bow – Learn to kneel. Let your tenderness encircle everyone you meet. Wash their feet not because you have to, because you want to.

It seems I've stood two thousand years holding the towel in my hands, “As I have done so you must do,” keeps echoing in my heart.

 “There are so many feet to wash,” I keep saying. “No,” I hear God’s voice resounding through the years, “There are only my feet – what you do for them you do for me.”

Spy Wednesday . . .Kisses of Betrayal

Image by J. O'Brien

Reflection: #1
This is the day that stories speak of Judas Iscariot as moving to the “dark side” to conspire with the religious leaders to betray Jesus and hand him over to be arrested. I often think of the writings of Megan McKenna and a particular story she tells within a story. It goes like this:

Megan was driving the back roads of Ireland’s countryside listening to the radio. There had been a short-story writing contest and the stories submitted were to be limited to thirty words.  As she was listening to the stories being presented over the radio – the following entry was read:

“Welcome home, son!
Hello, father.
It is so good to see you.  It’s been a long time.
Yes, father, a very long time.  It was hard.
Hard as nails.  Hard as wood.
I know.  What was the hardest?
The kiss, father, the kiss. (long pause)
Yes.  Come in and let me hold you.”

Megan continues with her story – “I nearly drove off the road.  Within seconds I was crying and had to pull over.  It hit me hard.  I was overwhelmed by the realization that sin is evil and terrible, and some sin is more evil and more terrible . . .” (From LENT by Megan McKenna)
Also, let us be aware of the “kiss of betrayal” in its many subtle forms . . .

Reflection: #2
This Wednesday is sometimes referred to as “Spy Wednesday” in Holy Week because the Gospel selection for the day tells of the secret negotiations Judas has with the religious authorities about betraying Jesus.  Here we are in this liminal space – meaning an in-between space – a threshold, so to speak, moving us from darkness to light, from death to life, from close friendships to betrayals and back again.  Last week in the Scriptures, we heard of Jesus turning the tables over of the money changers in the Temple.  Today’s readings tell us of the night of the sharing of the Passover meal – a table of friendship that will be “turned over” with the betrayal of Judas.

I often reflect what that may have been like for him and the others who shared so much of their lives, hopes, feelings, fears, and gifts. We, too, are often challenged with choices of darkness and light, good and evil, fear and courage, doubt and faith. In her book, Radical Gratitude, Mary Jo Leddy writes that we are “set up” for challenge in our culture. The pull of consumerism for instance, she says: “This artificially induced dissatisfaction afflicts all types and classes of people. It is manifest in the unhappiness of the rich … in the anxious strivings of the middle class, and in the bitter resentments of the poor who sit and watch the young and the restless and the bold and the beautiful drive their cars.”

Also this hum can find its way into our very psyches, for it whispers to us - “I don’t have enough which becomes I am not enough which becomes I am not good enough.” Maybe this is what Judas heard within and became consumed by something that turned over his table of intimate relationship and unconditional love shared with Jesus. Let us all pray for the grace to be people of authenticity, integrity, and trust. 

Every Week is Holy!

O God, we pray for all those in our world
who are suffering from injustice:

For those who are discriminated against
because of their race, color or religion;

For those imprisoned
for working for the relief of oppression;

For those who are hounded
for speaking the inconvenient truth;

For those tempted to violence
as a cry against overwhelming hardship;

For those deprived of reasonable health and education;

For those suffering from hunger and famine;

For those too weak to help themselves
and who have no one else to help them;

For the unemployed who cry out
for work but do not find it.

We pray for anyone of our acquaintance
who is personally affected by injustice.

Forgive us, if we unwittingly share in the conditions
or in a system that perpetuates injustice.

Show us how we can serve your children
and make your love practical by washing their feet.

                                                             Mother Teresa

Palms of Hosanna!

 

 

 

Blessings of Palms
By Jan Richardson

This blessing can be heard coming
from a long way off.

This blessing is making
its way up the road
toward you.

This blessing blooms in the throats
of women,
springs from the hearts
of men,
tumbles out of the mouths
of children.

This blessing is stitched into
the seams of the cloaks
that line the road,
etched in the branches
that trace the path,
echoes in the breathing
of the willing colt,
the click of the donkey’s hoof
against the stones.

Something is rising beneath this blessing.
Something will try to drown it out.

But this blessing cannot be turned back,
cannot be made to still its voice,
cannot cease to sing its praise
of the One who comes
along the way
it makes.

From: Circle of Grace, Wanton Gospeller Press, Orlando, FL, 2015
 http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com 
©Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com

Processions of Holy Week . . .

 

We are all familiar with public gatherings such as parades, marches, protests, demonstrations, rituals, and rallies. However, the Scriptures for this Holy Week invite us to observe, reflect upon, and actively participate in processions. Today, two Gospel readings guide us: one describes Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, and the other recounts the profound story of his passion and death as he journeys to Golgotha.

As Lent began on Ash Wednesday, we processed to receive ashes, a visible sign of our willingness to embark on a conversion of heart and listen more deeply to the Good News, both within ourselves and in the world around us. During Holy Thursday, we take part in the procession for foot washing and in moving the Blessed Sacrament to the Altar of Repose.

On Good Friday, we process with the cross, recalling Jesus’ journey to the hill outside Jerusalem. At the Easter Vigil, we participate in the procession with the new Easter Fire, carrying the Easter Candle and placing it among us as we sing our Alleluias.

Every liturgical celebration is rich with processions: the entrance procession, the Gospel procession, the offertory procession, the procession to receive the Eucharist, and even our own coming and going are marked by processions. We encounter many types of processions throughout our lives, prompting us to question their deeper meaning.

Processions are more than a method for moving people in an orderly fashion. They serve as ritual expressions of our identity and purpose. We are people of faith, traveling through life’s journey—an experience that is not a rehearsal, but the real thing.

This week, let us contemplate the processions that mark our personal milestones: Baptism, the reception of Sacraments, graduation, Jubilee, or Wedding processions, and even our eventual funeral procession. We might also reflect on the daily processions we make in our lives—standing in line for bottled water, driving to receive food at a distribution center, or waiting for a vaccine at the pharmacy. 

Praying for Openness

Let us ask the Spirit for insight, guidance, wisdom, forgiveness, and hope as we pray this week:

• for an open mind to understand the depths of our journey of faith,
• for an open heart to embrace the joyful and sorrowful mysteries of our personal and collective faith journey,
• for an open spirit to welcome, receive, and listen to the flow of life, so we may offer our “yes” to what is continuously unfolding for us as we journey in faith, celebrating both joyful and sorrowful mysteries. 
• Let us give the past to God’s mercy, the present to God’s love, and the future to God’s providence!

 

Palm Sunday reflection . . .

 The Decision: Who Is He?:

Palm Sunday 2026 

March 29, 2026

www.johnpredmoresj.com | predmore.blogspot.com

Ezekiel 37:12-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8:8-11; John 11:1-45

 

Jesus intended his arrival into Jerusalem to be unusual and provocative. His ministerial work was always on the margins of Israel where he met many non-Jews and had much dialogue with the Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees. Many were convinced of his identity as One who was sent by God, but the real test was always going to be the Temple Authorities and the leaders of Jerusalem. Jesus was headed to the center of belief, and he was calling the leaders to decide an important issue. What was the question: Who is Jesus?

 

Jesus preached an alternative viewpoint to those in the Temple. Whereas the High Priests and religious establishment insisted that the center of worship needed to be done in the Temple, Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of Heaven is among us. This new idea of the Kingdom occurred wherever believers gathered, it happened in the presence of Jesus’s preaching and healings, it happened wherever people sought the mercy of God. The Kingdom of Heaven was a direct threat to the Temple-centered belief, and Jesus knew that these perspectives would clash. A question that we still deal with today is: Does authority come from God or from religiously trained people who are speaking on behalf of God. Today, do we follow the Spirit, or do we tightly adhere to what our Tradition has taught us?

 

Jesus set up this clash around the Passover feast where all the Jews would gather for their sacred meal. He knew that all of Israel, but just the religious leaders, but also the regular citizens, would have to choose – to believe in God as shown through Jesus or adhere the customs and practices that have served people well for centuries? This was a clash. This was Israel’s decision day. The evangelist tells us: The whole city was shaken.

 

Jesus confounds the citizens when he rides into the city riding a donkey instead of a war horse. He does mean for battle, but he presents himself as a king who is meek, not as a military leader of power. This confuses the people who expect a political liberator. We still struggle with this. We want a God who fixes problems quickly, acts decisively, speak authoritatively, and has great power. What we get is Jesus who comes in humility, vulnerability, and peace. Could the people accept this image of Jesus or do they want him to be different. The question that he raised remains? Who is Jesus? Do I accept his portrayal of God’s project in the world today? The conflict remains.

 

A Courageous, "Yes" . . .

 

                    Annunciation Triptych (Merode Altarpiece) by Workshop of                           

                    Robert Campin, 1427- 32

Annunciation     

Denise Levertov

We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.

       Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.

But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.

       The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.

         God waited.

She was free
to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.

                  ____________________

Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or another
in most lives?

         Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.

More often
those moments
      when roads of light and storm
      open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from

in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.
                                 God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.

                  ____________________

She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child–but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed
in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.

Called to a destiny more momentous
than any in all of Time,
she did not quail,

  only asked

a simple, ‘How can this be?’
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply,
the astounding ministry she was offered:

to bear in her womb
Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,
the sum of power–
in narrow flesh,
the sum of light.

                     Then bring to birth,
push out into air, a Man-child
needing, like any other,
milk and love–

but who was God.

This was the moment no one speaks of,

when she could still refuse.

A breath unbreathed,

                                Spirit,

                                          suspended,

                                                            waiting.

                  ____________________

She did not cry, ‘I cannot. I am not worthy,’

Nor, ‘I have not the strength.’

She did not submit with gritted teeth,

                                                       raging, coerced.

Bravest of all humans,

                                  consent illumined her.

The room filled with its light,

the lily glowed in it,

                               and the iridescent wings.

Consent,

              courage unparalleled,

opened her utterly.

Gabriel's Experience . .

 

Artist Unknown    

Gabriel’s Annunciation

For a moment
I hesitated
on the threshold.
For the space
of a breath
I paused,
unwilling to disturb
her last ordinary moment,
knowing that the next step
would cleave her life:
that this day
would slice her story
in two,
dividing all the days before
from all the ones
to come.

The artists would later
depict the scene:
Mary dazzled
by the archangel,
her head bowed
in humble assent,
awed by the messenger
who condescended
to leave paradise
to bestow such an honor
upon a woman, and mortal.

Yet I tell you
it was I who was dazzled,
I who found myself agape
when I came upon her—
reading, at the loom, in the kitchen,
I cannot now recall;
only that the woman before me—
blessed and full of grace
long before I called her so—
shimmered with how completely
she inhabited herself,
inhabited the space around her,
inhabited the moment
that hung between us.

I wanted to save her
from what I had been sent
to say.

Yet when the time came,
when I had stammered
the invitation
(history would not record
the sweat on my brow,
the pounding of my heart;
would not note
that I said
Do not be afraid
to myself as much as
to her)
it was she
who saved me—
her first deliverance—
her Let it be
not just declaration
to the Divine
but a word of solace,
of soothing,
of benediction

for the angel
in the doorway
who would hesitate
one last time—
just for the space
of a breath
torn from his chest—
before wrenching himself away
from her radiant consent,
her beautiful and
awful yes.

Author: Jan Richardson

Jan Richardson is an artist, author, United Methodist minister, and director of The Wellspring Studio, LLC.  Widely known for her distinctive intertwining of word and image, Jan blogs at The Painted Prayerbook.

https://www.janrichardson.com/

Annunciation . . . and a murmured "yes."

 March 25 - Feast of the Annunciation . . .

Poem” Fiat by Bp. Robert Morneau on viewing Henry O. Tanner’s
The Annunciation - 1988

On her bed of doubt,
in wrinkled night garment,
she sat, glancing with fear
at a golden shaft of streaming light,
pondering perhaps, "Was this
but a sequel to a dream?"
The light too brief for disbelief,
yet its silence eased not her trembling.
Somehow she murmured a "yes"
and with that the light's love and life
pierced her heart
and lodged in her womb.
The room remained the same
- rug still need smoothing
- jug and paten awaiting using.
Now all was different
in a maiden's soft but firm fiat.

The Face . . .

 

The Story of the Painting of the Last Supper
  by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

Leonardo Da Vinci, the noted Italian artist painted the Last Supper. It took seven years for him to complete it. The figures representing the twelve Apostles and Christ himself were painted from living persons. The life-model for the painting of the figure of Jesus was chosen first. When it was decided that Da Vinci would paint this great picture, hundreds and hundreds of young men were carefully viewed in an endeavor to find a face and personality exhibiting innocence and beauty, free from the scars and signs of dissipation caused by sin. Finally, after weeks of laborious search, a young man nineteen years of age was selected as a model for the portrayal of Christ. For six months Da Vinci worked on the production of this leading character of his famous painting. During the next six years Da Vinci continued his labors on this sublime work of art. One by one fitting persons were chosen to represent each of the eleven Apostles -- with space being left for the painting of the figure representing Judas Iscariot as the final task of this masterpiece. This was the Apostle, you remember, who betrayed his Lord for thirty pieces of silver. For weeks Da Vinci searched for a man with a hard, callous face, with a countenance marked by scars of avarice, deceit, hypocrisy, and crime. A face that would delineate a character who would betray his best friend. After many discouraging experiences in searching for the type of person required to represent Judas, word came to Da Vinci that a man whose appearance fully met his requirements had been found in a dungeon in Rome, sentenced to die for a life of crime and murder. Da Vinci made the trip to Rome at once, and this man was brought out from his imprisonment in the dungeon and led out into the light of the sun. There Da Vinci saw before him a dark, swarthy man his long shaggy and unkempt hair sprawled over his face, which betrayed a character of viciousness and complete ruin. At last the famous painter had found the person he wanted to represent the character of Judas in his painting. By special permission from the king, this prisoner was carried to Milan where the picture was being painted. For months he sat before Da Vinci at appointed hours each day as the gifted artist diligently continued his task of transmitting, to his painting, this base character representing the traitor and betrayer of our Savior. As he finished his last stroke, he turned to the guards and said, I have finished. You may take the prisoner away. As the guards were leading their prisoner away, he suddenly broke loose from their control and rushed up to Da Vinci, crying as he did so, "Da Vinci, look at me. Do you not know who I am?" Da Vinci, with the trained eyes of a great character student, carefully scrutinized the man upon whose face he had constantly gazed for six months and replied, "No, I have never seen you in my life until you were brought before me out of the dungeon in Rome." Then, lifting his eyes toward heaven, the prisoner said, "Oh God, have I fallen so low?" Then turning his face to the painter he cried, "Leonardo Da Vinci, look at me again for I am the same man you painted just seven years ago as the figure of Christ."

Prayer while waiting . . .

 

You keep us waiting … you, the God of all time, want us to wait For the right time in which to discover Who we are, where we must go, Who will be with us, and what we must do. So, thank you … for the waiting time. 

 

You keep us looking … you, the God of all space, Want us to look in the right and wrong places for signs of hope, For people who are hopeless, For visions of a better world which will appear Among the disappointments of the world we know. So, thank you … for the looking time. 

 

You keep us loving … you, the God whose name is love, Want us to be like you – To love the loveless and the unlovely and the unlovable; To love without jealousy or design or threat; And, most difficult of all, to love ourselves. So thank you … for the loving time. 

 

And in all this, you keep us. Through hard questions with no easy answers; Through failing where we had hoped to succeed And making an impact when we felt we were useless; Through the patience and the dreams and the love of others, And through Jesus Christ and his Spirit, you keep us. So, thank you … for the keeping time, And for now, And forever, Amen.

 

John Bell, Iona Community

Into New Life

 

                                                    The Fifth Sunday in Lent 2026 

March 22, 2026

www.johnpredmoresj.com | predmore.blogspot.com

predmoresj@yahoo.com |

Ezekiel 37:12-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8:8-11; John 11:1-45

 

The story of Lazarus is compelling because it is one of the final scenes before Holy Week and it gives us hope in the Resurrection. It teaches us how to live now especially when we are faced with the death of a loved one. Two of the most emotional lines are found in the Gospel: “Jesus wept,” and “See how much he loved him.” It tells us something about the heart of God who finds sorrow in our misfortune.

 

The Ezekiel passage shows us the God opens the graves of the Israelites and calls them to rise from them. Jesus acts in the place of God when he opens the tomb of his friend, Lazarus, who can now rise to new life. Jesus changes around the Jewish belief about a future resurrection when he says, “I am the resurrection and the life.” He makes sure that Martha knows that the resurrection is not only a future belief or an event that happens to Jesus after the Crucifixion. He tells her that resurrection is about a relationship with Christ now. He tells her that eternal life begins when we believe, not only when we die. 

 

What does this mean for us. Belief in Jesus means that we can live differently now because Christ has our back. We can leave fears behind because fear is not faith, and faith calls us to leave our tombs and experience the fullness of life. Martha asks Jesus, “Why didn’t you come sooner?” and he tells us what matters is not time, but belief. The only time that matters is now, and belief in Jeus will take care of all manner of things.

 

While Jesus raises Lazarus to life, and by implication, Jesus raised people to new life, he asks the community to help remove the bandages. He says, “Untie him.” There are so many layers of relationships that bind and limit people, and Jesus wants the community to set Lazarus free, to see us free of the restrictions that community places upon us. To do this, we must forgive. We encourage others and speak life-giving and life-sustaining words. We heal fractured relationships and we reconcile our suffering. What does Jesus do: He infuses his love into death. He weeps for Lazarus and loves him back to life. Jesus does the same for us. Therefore, it is important for us to put love into places where lost has been lost or where love is absent. It is the power of this love that heals, and it is given to us because we have eternal life. 

The question for us is, “Who needs my love to be freed from the shackles of life? How can my love give someone new life?” We, as community, help others live freely. What fear do I carry with me that prevents me from living to my full potential? Whose love do I need to liberate me from what holds me back? Jesus wants to give us newness of life, a renewed sense of energy and engagement, a meaningful purpose. We belong to him because his love has the power over death. His love knows no boundaries. His love is what transforms our world into a liberating breath of life. Hear Jesus speaks the words, “Untie Lazarus. Untie your loved one. Untie you.” Then our work begins. We then let each other go free. 

 

 

March 22, 2026: Fifth Sunday of Lent

Mary McGlone: The Fifth Sunday of Lent, The raising of Lazarus . . .

https://www.ncronline.org/spirituality/march-22-2026-fifth-sunday-lent?utm_source=NCR+List&utm_campaign=6121d834f3-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2026_03_18_05_46&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_6981ecb02e-6121d834f3-230180185

Lent . . .giving up or giving over?

 

 

 

 

Poem: "For Lent" by Monica Lavia

What are you giving up for Lent? Adam asked of Eve.
Well, Eve said. I am thinking I should give up apples.
And what about you, husband of mine?
Adam replied, I think I am going to give up taking advice from you.

What are you giving up for Lent?
Abel asked his brother Cain?
Cain replied, I am going to try to give up my anger
Lest in a weak moment, I injure someone I love.

What are you giving up for Lent?
Jacob asked his twin, Esau.
Apparently my birthright, little brother of mine.

What are you giving up for Lent?
Moses asked of Aaron?
I am going to give up worshiping false gods
Especially the golden calf variety.
What about you? Aaron asked Moses in return.
I am giving up my need to see the promised land.

What are you giving up for Lent?
Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar asked Job.
I am giving up trying to understand the mind of God.

What are you giving up for Lent? I asked of Mary.
She whispered her response so softly
I had to move in close to her to hear her hushed reply:
My only Son

Patrick ~ Man of Courage, Man of Myth!

 

St. Patrick

 

May your troubles be less
And your blessings be more
And nothing but happiness
Come though your door

The Blessing of Light, Rain and Earth

May the blessing of Light be on you
light without and light within.

May the blessed sunlight shine on you
And warm your heart till it glows
Like a great peat fire, so that the stranger
may come and warm himself at it
and also a friend.

And may the light shine out of the two eyes of you
Like a candle set in the windows of a house
Bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.
And may the blessing of the Rain be upon you, the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit so that all the little flowers may spring up
And shed their sweetness on the air
And may the blessing of the Great Rains be on you
May they beat upon your spirit and wash it fair and clean
And leave there many a shining pool where the blue of heaven shines
And sometimes a star.

And may the blessing of the Earth be upon you, the great round earth
May you ever have a kindly greeting for them you pass
As you're going along the roads
May the earth be soft under you when you rest upon it
Tire at the end of the day
And may it rest easy over you
When at the last you lay out under it
May it rest so lightly over you
That your soul may be out from under it quickly
And up, and off, and on its way to God.

(Author Unknown)