Pastor's Reflection

The readings for Holy Week bring a chill as we listen. We hear Jesus speak of His most vulnerable pain. In the Gospel, we hear Him say at the Last Supper: “And yet behold, the hand of the one who is to betray me is with me on the table …” (Luke 22:21).

Jesus was betrayed. Betrayal speaks of treachery and infidelity of the willful and duplicitous attempt to destroy a friend. Betrayal is so ugly because an enemy cannot commit it. Only a trusted friend can come close enough to betray us.

Betrayal is the cruelest of life’s ingredients.

When were you betrayed? Do you speak about it? You might not, because betrayal’s poison not only destroys safe spaces but leaves the shrill, sharp and enduring lesson that no places are safe.

Betrayals, whether large or small, can haunt the heart and wound the soul. Betrayal casts off a piece of the soul into a painful orbit of secrecy and fear. If we do speak about when we were betrayed, it may be to construct a false safe place of excuses, self-blame, explanations or denial. These only deepen the hurt and deaden the soul.

If we do share the pain of a past betrayal, we might be told to simply “get over it” or “that’s life.” But you don’t and it’s not. Betrayal’s pain doesn’t age. Thirty years is the blink of an eye. Its pain does not have an expiration date. In fact, entrenched responses such as that only deepen the shame. They wreck, ruin and rewound.

Where do we go with our betrayals? We might go to a lot of places. Some people go to substances. Alcohol is the oldest medication known to man. Intoxication slowly accelerates past the pain but only deepening holes in the soul it pretends to fill.

Some people sink into activities and disappear for decades into workaholism and pleasing others. Or some others stare into a screen for years. The screen is the number one hiding place in the United States. Anything we want is a tap away at the tip of our fingers.

We can control anything on that screen, or so we think. But so often the internet and continuous channel surfing are roadmaps to deeper loneliness and isolation, of numbing muteness to feelings and daily life.

Some people let the pain do the talking. Gossip is simply the behind-the-back chatter that tries to repeatedly push someone else down so we can feel like we are on the rise. But these techniques disguised as remedies are just more numbing betrayals, tokens of cruel emotional commerce. They are more of the same.

Where do we go with our betrayals?

We must go to a truly safe and lasting place. Safe connection heals. Safety allows us to find our way through betrayal and patiently untangle the twistedness of countless maneuverings. While many good people can help us along the way, ultimately, Jesus is the only One who will understand. We need His supernatural grace to heal us.

Jesus knows. He knows what it is like to be betrayed. Judas, one of the Twelve Apostles, betrayed Jesus. And the other Apostles all deserted Him.

From the betrayal of friends, spouses, parents or our children – from the betrayal of coaches or mentors, of leaders and guides … Jesus knows those pains not from the outside like someone who has simply taken a quick tour. He knows our pain from the inside. This is Holy Week. Spend time with Jesus here at Church. Bring the hurt and the pain. He knows. His grace is waiting. We pray with Him and share our pain with Him, especially in these hours of His Passion during Holy Week. We have some key opportunities to be with Him this week:

The Mass of the Lord’s Supper takes place on Holy Thursday, April 2 at 7:00 p.m., with the Chapel of Our Lady open until 11:00 p.m.

The Commemoration of the Lord’s Sacred Passion is Good Friday, April 3 at 3:00 p.m. Stations of the Cross are at 6:30 p.m.

The Great Vigil of Easter Holy Saturday, April 4 is at 7:00 p.m.

Easter Sunday Masses are at 7:30 a.m., 9:00 a.m., 10:30 a.m. and Noon.

A blessed Holy Week –

Msgr. Brian Bransfield

Pastor

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