ELISHEBA BLOGLaura, Ivonne, and Rick
write about their lives in the Eucharist. |
ELISHEBA BLOGLaura, Ivonne, and Rick
write about their lives in the Eucharist. |
Dearest Eucharistic Family, The liturgical seasons come full circle and seem more rapid as I get older. What will You have us do for You, Jesus, as the Lenten Season will be upon us in a few days? Entering the season with Mary is a good start for me—the acknowledgment of her presence in the Eucharist as our mother is real. We need Our Lady to help us receive Jesus with reverence and awe. Mary was the first to be broken with Jesus and given to the world. We need a mother. God, in His Wisdom, knew that we needed maternal care. We are blessed to be held by Mary as we journey through life and another Lenten Season.
What can we do? We hear in the Psalms that it is not so much sacrifice but a humble and contrite heart that God desires.
Where can I give more of my heart to You, Lord? The external sacrifices of giving up favorite foods and a disciplined routine are excellent means to keep us obedient. Lenten fasts, sound and holy practices help us have more self-control. They help us to die to ourselves to gift ourselves to others. But the true sacrifice and gift is Jesus' life for us. He gave it freely. Jesus continues to give of Himself as He remains humble and hidden in the Eucharist. His silent presence speaks to the sinner in the depths of our souls. When we find forgiveness of our limitations and love pours out for others in compassion and mercy, life arises in our souls. The concern for us and others takes precedence. As we receive the Blessed Sacrament and carry Jesus to others, perhaps His love in us will be shared. To be broken may be to take on the burden someone holds, for it to be shared. To carry the Cross with another is to identify with suffering. Jesus took on our sins for the forgiveness Our Father has given to us in Christ. May we take on a Lenten practice of giving God His holy will for our mercy and compassion?
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I looked out the airplane window and saw the most beautiful landscape below. Close to the Grand Canyon, shades of orange and brown edged the earth below. A sigh escaped my lips as the desert beckoned me from below. There is something very appealing about the desert… the vastness, the stillness, the quiet. My heart was quickly moved to praise God. A few minutes later, still looking down from the clouds, I could see a clear demarcation line between the wilderness and civilization. Suddenly there were houses upon houses, neighborhood after neighborhood. Why were they so packed together when there is so much land available? A muffled announcement came over the PA system; we were going to start our descent into Las Vegas. I removed my headphones so I could hear the flight attendant’s instructions, and immediately the noise in the cabin overwhelmed me. My noise-cancelling headphones had done their job. If there is one word I can use to describe my experience of Las Vegas, it is noise. From the moment we landed, my brain has been bombarded with sensory overload. Men found the most secluded place in the desert to create an oasis of noise. There is a difference between going to the desert and going to a deserted place. Las Vegas is in the desert, yet it is most definitely not deserted.
The disciples had just returned from their mission and were depleted. Jesus knew they needed to regain their strength. Mark’s comment on the fact that they had not had an opportunity to eat reminds me of the story of the prophet Elijah, when he was fleeing for his life, afraid of Jezebel:
Lent is coming soon, and it is coming right into the circumstances of our lives. It’s coming into the noise and the chaos of family life, of parish life, of work life. We will be invited to enter into the desert, into the wilderness, the place with vipers and dangers. It is the place where Jesus faced the tempter, and it is there He will face him, in us, again. But before we go to the desert, we are invited to rest in a deserted place, by ourselves. He is calling us to sit under our “solitary broom tree”. It is there where we come face to face with our weakness, our limits and our fears. It is there where we lay it all out and say, “Enough Lord!” The place where we finally come to accept that we can not do this on our own. In humility, in truth, we surrender all and rest. We leave the rest to God. And what does God do? He knows we need nourishment, so He gives Himself to us. In the Eucharist He feeds us, He strengthens us. He then sends us to the desert… not to rest, but to face the temptations in the wilderness. To walk forty days and forty nights with God. Emmanuel, God is with us. When He calls, we know we can trust and go. But, how can we hear Him calling, if our senses are overwhelmed with noise?
Noise-cancelling headphones work by creating opposite sound waves, by creating anti-noise. We can do this in our spiritual lives by constantly singing praise to God. This will cancel the noise of the anti-Christ and allow us to listen to the still small voice of God. We will be able to hear the “cry of the poor”, in the midst of all the noise. We will hear Jesus say to us, “Give them some food yourselves.” (Mark 6:37). So, let us make time each day to pray, to sing the psalms, to cancel all the noise. A very practical way to do this is to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. These prayers mark the day, pausing our activity to sing together in praise as Church, as the family of God. You can find the prayers of the day on this website: https://divineoffice.org
In these turbulent times that we live in, I often feel called to pray for the ones who are alone. So many of our brothers and sisters are ill, elderly, lonely, and separated from their loved ones, and it breaks my heart. Yet, this time is an opportunity for all of us to help carry each other’s burdens in physical action and mindful prayer.
May we always pray for and support one another, for where one might fail, two might succeed by helping each other. It is in our fellowship that we express our unity. Those of us who follow the way of the cross, are aware of the weight. We may be encouraged when we find someone walking with us to lighten the burden, in this we become of one mind and heart. If you ever had the chance to hear a heart synchronized with yours, then you know how joyful it is to come together like that… I visualize us as a rowing team, a group united in fellowship, a choreography of movement, working together as a singular effort to the urging of a guiding voice. This sounds to me like the Christian life for those of us out in the world, as it is in the sharing of a purpose and in the merging of our actions that we come together in Christ. Sharing this heavenly purpose makes us part of something greater than our single selves and closer to what we are called to be: the body of Christ. It is like the image of Moses and Levi from the Book of Exodus, with the Hebrews following shoulder to shoulder as they cross through the desert together (c.f. Exodus 32:26). This is meant to be the same way for us today. Our priests do not walk alone but alongside God and abreast of us, the lay people. We are a modern version of the Exodus, leaving the old world behind... but while our walk through life looks different than a desert crossing, the mission of hope is still lived, suffered, and shared together. We are still meant to go forward in the fulness of hope, active in faith and with charity towards our fellow brothers and sisters.
Let us consider that what we do with our lives really does mean something, and our sacrifices are not so insignificant as to have no value in the eyes of God. On the contrary, they are as much a treasure to share and offer as those of anybody, for their real value is tied to our dignity as the beloved children of the Heavenly Father.
Our fellowship has value, and our hope helps define us. With God’s help, we shall continually strengthen our hope that our stride may be purposeful on our path home.
During the Exodus, Moses, in anger, lost the right to step foot on the Holy Land… but even then, he kept his hope… so our merciful God allowed him to glimpse at the land of milk and honey (c.f. Deuteronomy 34:1-5). In time, those of us, brothers and sisters who persist in our faith and our hope, shall also get to see the promised land, for it has been promised by the One who is worthy. In fact, whenever we partake of the Holy Eucharist, in that most beautifully intimate moment when we commune with Christ directly, we glimpse Heaven in fellowship with all the faithful! Let us embrace our hope and continue along our path, together in fellowship with our brothers and sisters that walk alongside Christ. May we go through our modern Exodus and prevail on the blessed road to Heaven. Let us pray: Lord, help us remain faithful and hopeful. May we stay firmly together on the road to Heaven. Amen.
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AuthorsWe are Ivonne J. Hernandez, Rick Hernandez and Laura Worhacz, Lay Associates of the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament, and brothers and sisters in Christ. |