Pastor's Reflection

Death hurts. When we feel the sadness. But there is also the pain.

Jesus felt the pain of death. When his friend Lazarus died Jesus first cries (Jn. 11:35) and then groans in pain (Jn. 11:38).

Why did Jesus cry and groan in pain if He knew He could raise Lazarus from the dead?

Because at that moment, as Jesus approached the grave of Lazarus, Jesus was also approaching the grave of everyone in human history. As He approached the grave of Lazarus, Jesus approached the grave of everyone we have lost in our life. And He gathered onto Himself all the sadness and pain. He didn’t want us to bear the pain alone. As you and I endure pain in our life, the shoulder of Jesus is right next to us, feeling the burden as well. We are not alone.

When we feel hurt, sad, abandoned, or lonely, Jesus is with us.

As Jesus approached the grave of Lazarus, “He cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’” The voice of the Son of God shattered the bars of death. Lazarus rose from the dead and returned to this earthly life. Notice that Jesus calls Lazarus by name. The saints tell us that if Jesus had not specified Lazarus by name, then every single corpse in that cemetery would have risen from the dead – that is how powerful the voice of the Son of God is to destroy death and restore life.

But Jesus did more. Lazarus had only returned to this earthly life. Lazarus later died and was buried, and his body remained dead. And so Jesus did more, for Lazarus and for you and me. Jesus went to the Cross and died. And on Easter Sunday, He rose triumphant from the grave – not to merely earthly life, but to heavenly life.

If we join ourselves to Jesus in this life, especially through the Sacraments, Jesus promises that He will raise us up at the end of time to heavenly life. Draw close to Jesus. He has destroyed death. He wants to share His victory with us. Let Him.

God bless,
Msgr. Bransfield

The man was blind from birth.

Jesus passes by him in the Gospel today and sees him (Jn. 9:1). Think of that moment. The man is blind. From birth. He has never seen anything of anyone. Only darkness. And Jesus sees him. Jesus sees the one who cannot see. Jesus sees the one who can only see darkness. Jesus is the Light of the world. There is no darkness that can withstand the Lord, even the darkness of blindness.

Blindness comes in many forms. One especially painful form is the blindness that can descend upon our spirit from hurt and old wounds.

Light heals. The light of Jesus heals in a determined way.

Healing doesn’t mean everything is suddenly “fixed.” In fact, healing and fixing aren’t the same thing. Healing is better. “Fixing” takes us back to what we believe ought to be or have been. Healing takes us to forward to believe in Jesus. And, from here, healing takes us places we have never been before.

Jesus, to heal the blind man, “spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes” (Jn. 9:6). Jesus then tells the man, “Go and wash in the pool of Siloam” (Jn. 9:7).

Healing can be messy. Jesus goes to the ground to heal. The ground is the place of humility. The word humility comes from the Latin word humilis which means lowly, close to the ground. The ground is the place from which God created us. He reached for the mud of the earth to make man. Healing is a new creation. To heal, God reaches to the ground again. Healing is being grounded, not over-reacting to every push and pull, every whim and fancy. Healing is the opposite of the impulsiveness of chaos. And the blind man, now grounded by the action of Jesus sees through the darkness. He sees the light of the world.

Jesus wants to heal us, too. Healing will take us to places we never imagined or thought we’d go.

This Lent Jesus is again reaching out. He reaches down to the earth. He reaches for humility. And from there He will spread forth His arms on a Cross.

Go with Jesus. Trust Jesus. He is the Light of the world.

God bless,

Msgr. Bransfield

She probably replayed it in her head over and over again. The regrets went in a continuous loop. If she was honest with herself, which was rare, she felt cornered with nowhere to turn.

The betrayals kept coming. She couldn’t even join the rest of the crowd who went to draw water in the cool of the morning. She chose to walk to the well under the scalding light of the noon day sun. Why?

Because if she was around other people, they’d point. “Don’t turn out like her,” they’d whisper to their children as the rushed them along. She had a reputation in that town. She’d rather endure the unrelenting noon-day heat than the relentless gossip and finger pointing of the crowd.

We meet the woman of Samaria in the Gospel today. So does Jesus. Or rather, she meets Him.

The woman of Samaria was known. She was on her fifth husband. Her life was in turmoil. She was exiled to this sweltering time of the day to do the hard work of lugging water home.

Water, the source of life …

And the Lord comes along: “Jesus, tired from His journey, sat down at the well. It was about noon” (Jn. 4:6). The heat has taken its toll even on the Lord.

Jesus then enters into conversation with the woman. It is as if He begins to hear her Confession. And the Lord reveals Himself as the true well – the true source of the water of life. And now she is known to Jesus. And He forgives her.

This Lent we can pass by the well too. The Confessional is the well. It is the place where we meet the life give water of God’s forgiveness for our sins. Let the world point, whisper and glare.

But let Jesus forgive you. The Sacrament of Confession is the place we meet Him just as sure as the woman of Samaria did. And like her, we can be changed.  Parish Confessions are scheduled for Tuesday Afternoon, March 24 at 4 p.m. and in the evening at 7 p.m. in the Church. We will have visiting priests assisting in hearing Confessions at those two times.

God bless,

Msgr. Bransfield