Benedictine Sisters of FL

Holy Name Monastery
Founded 1889

Mary

Palm Sunday

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Palm Sunday

 

Note: Inspired and expanded from an unidentified note in my journal.

This Palm Sunday we are the two friends, sitting on angel wings, waiting for the unfolding of 2000-year old story. Iit unfolds each year during what earthlings call LENT.  We are  watchful, attentive, waiting.

We, you and I are aware that the ministry of Jesus has not been a secret ministry, but a public one.   People constantly surround him. Today the crowd is particularly exuberant.

All morning, the people kept coming in droves to laud his praises: to sing and wave branches, to spread their cloaks on the street.  They shouted with joy at his arrival.  But only days later, we know the story, and their shouts change.  No longer do they sing, “Hosanna in the highest.”  Their shouts that day are cruel: “Crucify Him!”  Then, just like that, there is no crowd.  There is only the tomb and Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, who “remain[ed] sitting there, facing the tomb.”  In the end, there is only the Lord, placed in the tomb, and his two friends, still there, with Him.

This Palm Sunday we are two friends, sitting watchful and attentive. Mystified.  How heavy our hearts, and yet we would not be separated from our Jesus.  We recall that He had promised, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”  So, we stay here together, watching and waiting.

Reminiscing about the wonders we have seen (even still see around us) binds us all the more to Him. Now is not the time to abandon Him. Now is not the time to turn from faith. Now is the time to cling to Him!

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary arrive at the tomb on the morning of the third day. They bring with them spices to anoint the Lord’s body in an attempt to preserve, to keep death at bay.  And yet, the Lord has so much more in store for them. The Lord will not be beholden to death!

And so we will stay, two friends, seated beside the tomb, at a loss and shaken by what the Lord is doing. We could not yet see all that would come to pass.

This Holy Week, 2025, may we not leave Him. Let us revel in this time alone, which can be time alone with Him.  May our thoughts and prayers always turn to Him. May our hearts reach out to Him – and to each other. Let us give each other time, quiet and space to ponder the mystery about to unfold.  If we remain with Him, watchful and waiting, we will not miss the glory He intends to reveal.

   ~by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

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Caution. Construction Ahead!

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Luke’s Gospel quotes the prophet Isaiah, describing the road we must travel throughout Advent (and in our lives) in order to see the signs of the times and reach the One foretold: our Emmanuel.

Like Mary and Joseph, we must travel through valleys, between hills and over mountains to reach the place where the census is being taken.  We have to weather life’s troubles, storms of despair and disappointment.  WE must also look out at the horizon from the joyful mountain peaks of our lives to view the beauty God has laid out for us.

And, then there’s the Magi.  They traveled to see the new-born child bringing with them a sack-full of Christmas presents. With our families spread across the nation and world, and now with the pandemic, the ritual of travel toward togetherness is threatened by fear of contagion rather than anticipation of pleasure.   But we journey onward each Advent season.  We journey toward Bethlehem to witness the miracle of Jesus’ birth. We journey toward the end of all time, when Christ Jesus will come again.

If you took long road trips as a kid, you may have played travel games to help pass the time (and reduce the number of back-seat squabbles).   When you saw the sign “Exit Ahead” did you wish and wonder: “Are we there yet?”  Like those trips, we continue down the road to Bethlehem where we see some signs along our way. Last week, Jesus warned us to be alert, watching for God’s unexpected activity in our lives and in our world. Today, the sign we see is one that most of us dread seeing while traveling along our highways: “Road Construction Ahead”.

Why is it that we tend to get upset when we see a sign for road construction? That’s a sign that in the not-too-distant future (though probably more distant than we’d like) the roadwork will be complete.  But still, when we see that sign ROAD CONSTRUCTION TO BEGIN NEXT WEEK or see orange barrels or the concrete barricades, we begin to get uptight and look for an alternate route. Road construction signs signal: “inconvenience, hassles, delays.”  Is that what we feel when we see today’s signs in the Scriptures? Road Construction. Two more weeks until we get to sing Christmas carols outside of choir practice.  How long until we can hang the decorations on the tree?

If you’ve observed road construction, you know it is labor-intensive.  It’s not like a Lego project.  How’s God’s construction company doing with you?  Are you making new inroads to acknowledge the need for improvement?    This Advent, have you been working to smooth rocky relationships?  What about making repairs on your approach to people? Are you consciously striving to be direct: saying what you mean and meaning what you say?  Are you bolstering up the pillars of your prayer life?   Are you repairing older sections of your highway to God?   Are you blasting out the bad habits and fortifying your daily schedule so there is a new, wider, safer path to settle into the spirit of Lectio?

Maybe God is opening up for you a new area of possibility – a new awakening to how you can expand your life of service and hospitality. What new road is God building in your life?   No matter how we might like to think that we’ve got it all together, sooner or later we all need to make a little heavenly highway repair. Our God promises to help us fix what’s broken in our lives; to come to our rescue and strengthen those areas of weakness that plague us so. Jesus can remove those piles of junk, fill in the potholes, and strengthen the sagging places if we but stop trying to “do it my way” and allow God to be the one to put up the sign: “Caution.  Construction Ahead!” And, then we must allow God to be the boss, the foreman, the project manager.

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

 

 

First Reading:   Baruch 5:1-9Jeremiah 33:14-16         Second Reading:  Philippians 1:4-6,8-11
Gospel:   Luke 3:1-6
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Third Sunday of Easter

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Two of the disciples of Jesus were on the road that leads to Emmaus. They were low because their Master had been crucified like a common thief. But now they’ve heard reports that their Master was not dead at all. Reliable sources have told them that he has appeared to some of their most trusted friends. Was he really alive? Should they believe the good news or the bad? And that’s our dilemma, isn’t it? DO WE BELIEVE THE GOOD NEWS OR THE BAD? The good news is that Christ is alive. The sad news is how little impact that event is having in our world.

The Jewish custom required that the two disciples invite Jesus to a meal. Hence, they invited Him for a night’s rest in their house–and Jesus accepted the invitation. During the meal, when Jesus broke the bread, the disciples realized that this stranger was not after all a stranger – this was Jesus, the Risen Christ. Later they said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us when he opened up the Scriptures to us?”  Hidden for a time, Jesus took delight in revealing himself in the breaking of the bread.  I don’t know how He’d said it in Yiddish or Hebrew the translation is: “Eat up! It’s good for you!”

You will recall on Easter morning that Jesus told the disciples to “go home.”  This time they “go back” a long path – walking 7 miles to Jerusalem to share their story.   They were probably pondering all along the way how they, like Mary Magdalene, did not recognize Jesus.  For Mary the revelation (Jesus’ delight) came when she heard Jesus’ voice.  For the Emmaus disciples it was the breaking of the bread.  That continues to this day.  Jesus meets us on our way to Emmaus, in the ordinary experiences of our lives, and in the places to which we retreat when life is too much for us. The story warns us, however, that the risen Lord will take delight in coming to us when we least expect him.

A young boy was walking home through the park after attending a Sunday school class. Somehow, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Bible lesson for that day. What impressed him most was when the teacher said, “You will find the risen Jesus in everyone you meet.” As he continued through the park, he noticed an old woman sitting on a bench. She looked lonely and hungry. So he sat down next to her, took out the chocolate bar he had saved and offered some to her. She accepted it with a beautiful smile.  They sat together in silence, just smiling at each other.  When the boy was leaving, he had gone a short distance when he ran back to the bench, and gave the woman a big hug. When he arrived home, his mother asked, “What’s making you so happy today?” He said, “I shared my chocolate bar with Jesus.” Before his mother could ask more questions, he added, “You know, she has the most beautiful smile in the world.”  Meanwhile, the old woman returned to her little apartment where she lived with her sister who remarked, “You seem really happy today.”  “I am,” she replied, “I was sitting in the park, eating a chocolate bar with Jesus. And, you know, he looks a lot younger than I expected.”   Isn’t that the lesson in today’s gospel?  We will meet and experience the risen Jesus in unexpected places and persons.  Make someone smile and notice God’s delight in the smile returned to you.

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

 

 

First Reading:  Acts 3:13-15,17-19         Second Reading:  1 John 2:1-5a
Gospel:   Luke 24:35-48
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Second Sunday of Advent

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Our God of the Promise

 

In Advent, like the child we once were, we eagerly await the coming of Christ as an infant in Bethlehem.  At the same time, we invite him into our hearts in the present, the “now” of our lives. And we look forward to his future coming as king of glory. Dwelling in the past or wishing for a perfect future can keep us from hearing the will of God NOW, in our today.  Many recognize in Pope Francis a voice that is, like that of John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness … urging us forward in the present to mend the past as we confront the life as it greets us today, in the NOW of our lives.

The opening lines in Mark’s gospel greet us with the words: “the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ”.  But, the first character we meet is not Jesus, but John the Baptist, the fiery preacher who came out of the desert where he lived on honey and locusts.   And, he is no fashion plate, with his camel’s hair clothes, leather sandals, and leather girdle around his waist. His diet was very simple: locusts (grasshoppers) and wild honey. This is important, or it would not be here.  It is symbolic. But what does it symbolize? Well, you cannot wear anything more fundamental in the way of clothing, or eat a more basic diet, than John did. It is representative of his ministry — one of simple beginnings. It is not the end; it is the beginning.

John is very honest. He says, “Don’t look to me for answers beyond what I have already told you.  That must come from another, who is coming right after me. He is so much greater than I.  I am not even worthy to untie his shoes.”  Remember, this was Jesus’ cousin, his elder by six months, that he was talking about!  You’ll recall John jumped for joy, (maybe he was dancing) in his mother’s womb when he was introduced to Mary and Jesus.  John could bring people to God, but he could not take them beyond that.   Something drew these people into the desert to listen to this strange and rugged young preacher proclaim good news.  That’s all he did! He never told how it worked, or why; he just announced it.  And, this was in a desert in the wilderness.  But it worked, in part because In John’s day, as now in ours, people needed to know they can begin again.

But, keep in mind what the prophet Isaiah said about John’s message. This business of reconciliation will resemble a great bulldozer, building a highway in the middle of nowhere.  (I wonder if they put in roundabouts?)  John was God’s bulldozer to build that highway.  We know how roads are built; we see the process in almost any direction we go on the highway.  Isaiah says: “Every mountain shall be brought low, and every valley shall be lifted up; the crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places plain.”  And, that is what repentance does. It bulldozes down all the high peaks of pride that we stand on and refuse to admit we’re wrong. It takes the depressed areas of our life and lifts them up. It takes the crooked places and straightens them out. And it makes the rough places plain. Then, there is God!  God comes to us so that we can come to God.

Our hope is in the promise of God; in our God of the Promise.  It is a promise that was fulfilled in Jesus Christ.  It is a hope that will not be disappointed because God, although He may delay or tarry, He will not forget His promise.  Be assured: God will never let us down!

 

~by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

 

First Reading  Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11                        
Second Reading 2 Peter 3:8-14  
Gospel Reading  Mark 1:1-8
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Palm Sunday

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Vigil of Palm Sunday

The contemporary (former monk) author Thomas Moore says, “The whole point of a good story is to give birth to other stories and to deep reflection.”  The Palm Sunday stories certainly call us to reflection.  There are stories within stories that bring to mind more stories.   A temptation may be to try to reflect on too much.  In Lectio, as in any of the arts, we allow the music, the art, the Word to take over.  We become absorbed in the complex harmonies, tempos and textures, and become servant to the materials at hand.

Palm Sunday liturgy, it seems to me, is a potpourri of themes and a roller-coaster of emotions: high hosannas, a supper with friends, examples of loving humility, washing of feet and later washing of hands.  There are incidents of betrayal and mockery; bravery of Simon and Veronica; compassion of John and Mary.  All are acts of caring, courage and compassion.  The soldier’s declaration: “Surely this was an innocent man,” and, the donation of a burial place, the preparation of the body of a loved-one, the watching and waiting … and waiting … and waiting.

Palm Sunday services begin with such glorious solemnity: waving palms, processions, joyful singing of hosanna!  Within about an hour’s time we travel from cries of “Blessed is He who comes in the name of God!” to shouts of “Away with this man!  Crucify him!”  Then, we move on to the Eucharistic acclamation: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again!”  We pray for forgiveness and daily bread.  We exchange God’s own peace with each other.  We recall Jesus’ supreme sacrifice and take into ourselves His body and blood.  The communion antiphon calls us back to the beginning of the story and the thread that winds through the whole story: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me.  Still, not my will but yours be done.”  A few hours later Jesus will utter: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

This same sentiment is echoed in the prayer often used at the Stations of the Cross: “Oh, my God, I love you.  I love you more than myself.  Grant that I may love you always, then do with me what you will.”  I hand myself over to God, as Jesus did, in an act of self-surrender, “Suscipe me.”  I am asking God to accept me just as I am now, open, vulnerable, powerless.  I am also saying that I am willing to receive whatever God has in store for me in the future: the journey onward, the Palm Sundays, the Good Fridays, the Easters in my life.  “Accept us O God, as you have promised; we shall live, and we shall not be disappointed in our hope.”  A good choice for the Palm Sunday may be to simply “sit with” the story.  I repeat: “The whole point of a good story is to give birth to other stories and to deep reflection.”  (Thomas Moore Original Self p. 66)

~by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

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Fourth Sunday of Advent

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For many people this last week of Advent is fraught with frantic shopping, concern about who they’ve forgotten to get a gift for, cards that are not going to arrive before Christmas, children whose hopes are going to be dashed, worry about what food stamps will buy that will still look like a festive meal, the choice between food on the table or gifts under the tree, gas prices that prohibit travel to be with relatives, who’s going to watch the children while there’s no school, day care that’s not in the budget and parents who still have to go to work.

Our lifestyle should stand out in contrast to all the hustle and bustle, the preoccupations with secular concerns.  We have the luxury and the burden of putting first things first.  The sign Ahaz refuses to ask for in the first reading can be the one we project to the world.  We can heed Isaiah’s alert and not weary people or our God.  We can shorten real-life “posadas” by coming out of our shells when we’d like to hibernate in our self-made cocoons.

For the pregnant Mary these days just before giving birth to Jesus should have been “nesting days” but Mary was traveling.  May we use this next week for “nesting” –  readying our hearts and our living spaces for the Babe to take deeper residence in us and in our community.

These days are a time to listen like Jesus’ foster father Joseph to our dreams.  Let us awake, arise and do what the Spirit commands.  Sometimes it may be puzzling the connections we make.  For instance, Joseph’s dilemma, and the angel’s intervention, had me humming two songs: “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” (from Cinderella) which continues: “…when you’re fast asleep; in dreams you will lose your heartaches, whatever you wish for, you keep.  Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.”  The other dream song, “I Have A Dream” was written in memory of Martin Luther King, Jr: “I have a dream,  a song to sing, to help me cope, with anything …I believe in angels, when I know the time is right for me …I have a dream, to help me through reality and my destiny.”

There is an air of festivity this time of year not solely in our faith tradition, but also, for instance, in the celebrations of Hanukkah and Kwanza as well.  Christmas, sometimes referred to as Yuletide, is on a fixed date during the winter solstice.  Kwanzaa was established in the 1960’s as a way to help African Americans connect with their African history and culture.  It is a week-long spiritual festival celebrated December 26 to January 1.  The seven-candle Kinara (candle holder) honors principles of Unity, Self-Determination, Responsibility, Cooperation, Purpose, Creativity and Faith.

Hanukkah is the eight-day Jewish festival that commemorates the victory of the Maccabees over the oppressive power of the Syrian-Greeks and the re-dedication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.  The eight-candle menorah with its day-by-day increase in light, symbolizes the days of creation and the dependable guidance of God.  There is a long-held Hanukkah tradition that delights children as well as adults: the practice of “gelt-giving” – money or chocolate coins – which teaches lessons in charitable giving.

Comparing these festivals, it’s easy to see that despite representing a variety of cultural and faith traditions, there are commonalities: honoring our ancestry, candle lighting, charity, gift-giving, family spirit.

Our prayer intention for the next two weeks will express our gratitude for God’s boundless generosity in the persons of our relatives, friends, and benefactors.  May they know our gratitude and be blessed by God for their graciousness to us.

 

~by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

 

 

First Reading  Isaiah 7:10-14                       
Second Reading Romans 1:1-7  
Gospel Reading  Matthew 1:18-24
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