Pentecost is Coming

We are in the week between the Ascension and Pentecost, the "Great Novena" of expectation. The Easter Celebration is approaching its fulfillment.

The light of the Easter Candle which began on the night of Holy Saturday has accompanied us through these days, and the true fire which is that new life in the Spirit is -- we hope -- burning more brightly within us, burning with the intensity of a greater love.

Let us deepen our hope in these days as we approach with real expectation the feast of Pentecost, and let us all cry out together:

Looking at Things, Truly...

Since I am 52 years old, I suppose this is my 53rd Spring season. My 53rd Easter season.

I have seen many Winters, indeed. This past Winter was, perhaps, the most beautiful one that I can remember. It was a long and contemplative time, full of unexpected surprises of beauty. No doubt taking pictures helped me to pay more attention, but it was more than that.

I spent a lot of time looking at things.

Now Spring is here with its brief, brilliant displays and waves of color. Our Valley has become a garden. And in this natural season of changes and growth in the temperate region of the north, Easter comes, proclaiming the victory of Love, the coming forth of the One who remains forever among us.

I am still determined to take pictures, and more importantly, to continue to look at all these things.

Spring

Whether it be blossom,

or budding twig,

or dark drippy patch of moss on rain soaked stone,

when we look at things,

truly,

even for a moment,

we are thrown into wonder,

and wounded

by the widening space of longing

that only grows deeper as the seasons pass.

Life runs everywhere

like flood waters washing over our thirst

and filling us

and bursting holes in our hearts so that we die.

But we are also reminded

that time's tomb cannot hold us.

For we have heard the promise.

It is the promise

that the wonder in the brief glory

of feathery flower petals

is worth seeing again and again,

even when we are old,

when the heart holes of longing are aching

and frail and beautiful,

burning open with soft fire as everything speaks,

in its singular simple way,

of the promise long held, and drawing near.

Christ is Risen, But What About Me?

How often does it happen that during Easter time we feel uneasy or troubled because we don't have the tangible joy we think we should?

Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead and we all sing, "Alleluia!" and eat lamb and sweets. Then we eat leftovers. We sing "Alleluia" all week.

And now here we are, still plodding along.

I know that I'm not in ecstasy. I'm not marvelously changed, or at least I don't appear to be. I still have the same faults, the same incoherence, and the same sufferings. Some people may even face new or greater afflictions in this time of joy and celebration.

Is there any connection between the liturgical season of Easter and our "all too ordinary" lives with our daily troubles and stumbling and even catastrophies? Does it make any difference?

We hope that we have been moved closer to God in these weeks and months of prayer and penance, solemn commemoration and reaffirmation of faith, and perhaps we have felt this or seen it in some concrete ways. However, we may also feel "stuck" in circumstances that haven't turned out the way we expected them. We may think, "Christ is risen, but I'm still suffering!"

Maybe my life and sufferings are different from yours, but deep down we are all on the same road. We are all sinners, and we fall and try to get up over and over. We can also have periods in life when it's just like groping in the darkness or collapsing from exhaustion.

And we may ask ourselves, "Where is God, like really, as a source of help?"

Don't get discouraged during this time, even if it happens to be Easter time. Jesus in His wisdom and mercy is drawing us to Himself even when our lives seem like an empty tomb and we still don't feel like we know where He is.

When it seems to me that God is nowhere in my life, the only thing I can do is cry out for Him. And trust in Him. And it seems not to make anything feel better or solve anything. I just have to do it again and again, in so many aspects of my own life.

But He does answer, and He works in His time and His way. Sometimes I can see this, but other times it may take years to recognize the first hints of the mysterious work that He accomplishes, and a full understanding can only be found in eternal life. He always gives enough for that next small step on the path, however small and weak it may seem. He gives enough for each little step.

"Ah, but sometimes it all just seems unbearable!"

That's because it is unbearable.

Only Jesus can carry this kind of pain, this pain that is the journey of a human life into the depths of the Mystery of God. My pain, my life: only He knows it all the way through.

The only hope is to abandon everything to Him. "Jesus, I give myself to you. Take care of everything." Again and again, whatever, and wherever, and how, and why... "Jesus I abandon everything to you."

And Mary is always there. She is there to carry us all the way to Him.

I pray in this Easter season that all of you, my dear friends, will be held by the infinite gentleness and mercy of God. I pray that He will pour out His healing grace into all the places where it is needed.

I don't want to sound like I am ignoring the hard realities of life by kicking up a cloud of "religious talk." I really mean that there is nowhere else to go, nowhere else to bring these burdens, this life, this cry of the heart.

Jesus on the Cross. Jesus risen from the dead. This is the hope that changes and transforms life, that saves us. Where else can any of us go? We have to go to Him, and give it to Him.

The Resurrection: Teaching Us to Trust in Him

Happy Easter Thursday!

Today I present one of my favorite poems from my book Never Give Up (click HERE to learn more). Those of you who know the book are aware of the way in which its narrative is interspersed with poetic prayer reflections, not unlike those I've posted on this blog.

I thought this text was appropriate during Easter week, as our daily toil is touched by the glory of a great hope.

At the heart of this "Divine Mercy Week" is the aspiration and the prayer for the virtue of trust. We hardly even know what it means to trust.

Therefore we must ask of Jesus: "Teach me how to trust in You completely." For if we do not know, what else can we do besides ask? Ask, and ask with confidence, because He will answer. He will form that awareness, that simplicity, that spiritual childhood within us.

Trust

Jesus, I trust in You
even in the turmoil of this night:
O let me feel in its wild winds
the breath of Your eternal lips
        enlivening, expanding,
        spiriting dull flecks of my ashy ground
        into form, flesh, body
        of my New Eden everlasting.

For it is You who speak me,
You who call me by name in each moment,
You who penetrate
the spaces within me that I do not know,
the moments of me
        not yet birthed by time,
        nor conceived in the tiny gaps and crevices of my mind,
        nor even beginning to trace dim shadows
               before my near-blind eyes.

It is You who see me.
You who grasp my hand and guide me
in the valley of shadows.
For You have taken every hollow trench
and scaled every slope,
to stand in the fiery sun that has burned me.
You have won the victory
that You proclaim and celebrate each moment,
each day,
when You call my name,
when You call me to awaken
        to the frail pieces of light
        and gray dust of earth’s every morning.

Save me!
For only You know me.
Shut my eyes and stop my ears
from phantom shades who cry out:
        “your name is slave,
         your name is fear,
         blackness is your life.”

Jesus
You call my name.
O open my ear that I may hear Your voice,
clear.
For You carry, whole, within Your Living Light,
the only “me” that will ever glimmer and shine—
        pool of light,
like splendid diamond
clean and cut
with the lines of Your Face.
My real name:
sounding like song, and gushing—
        fresh, cold, sweet water of life,
        that rises up from the deep
        deep well
                of Mercy’s hidden spring.
You call me by a name never spoken before
and never to be uttered again.
Let me live, O Lord, by faith—near blind, near deaf,
        straining the ear of earth to hear the echo of my name
        in gifted speech of hinted truth,
        though shallow like shells:
                Child, Beloved, Likeness, Your Glory
                                              Your Glory.

Lead me,
by the Glory that slips between the crack
of faith’s eye,
        to trust in You,
        to spy the promise of all made new.
Grant me that glimpse,
faint,
firm,
of all earth’s pain and weight.
Of my fighting, faltering,
fumbling heart’s hope
        washed in White Wonder.

                from Never Give Up: My Life and God's Mercy
                [click HERE to order; hard copy or Kindle available]

Happy Easter 2015

Happy Easter from the Janaros. Here's our Easter Sunday picture for 2015:


Yes indeed, the kids have grown a lot. Only five years ago, they all fit into a large box:


Of course, if we go back to the year 2001, it's obvious that we've come a long way. Back then, Teresa and Josefina weren't even around. It was three little tykes:

We wait in hope for the resurrection, when the good seeds of our days and years -- sown in the depths of earth -- will blossom and bear fruit in a perfection beyond anything we can imagine. And all our sorrows and tears, having poured out like rain watering the ground, will be wiped away. We will find beneath them our true faces, faces of joy.

Meanwhile, we've got plenty to do in the business of raising kids. Even little kids:

Jojo still enjoys hunting for Easter eggs!

The Most Profound Darkness

"We watch full of hope

while awaiting His return,

when Easter will have

its full manifestation.

Sometimes

the darkness of night

seems to penetrate the soul;

sometimes we think:

'now there is nothing

to be done,'

and the heart no longer finds

the strength to love.

However, precisely in that darkness

Christ lights the fire of the love of God:

a flash breaks the darkness

and announces a new beginning.

Something begins in the most profound darkness

We know that the night is darkest

before the day begins.

However, precisely in the darkness,

it is Christ that conquers

and lights the fire of love.

The stone of sorrow is overturned

leaving space for hope."

~Pope Francis

Christ is Risen, but I'm Exhausted!

"Dear Lord, may I borrow my future resurrected body, in advance (as in, like, now), just so I can keep up with everybody else for a few days?"

I love Easter Week. Divine Mercy novena, flowers, warm spring air, a fridge full of fun food, kids off school and relaxing and just being around one another. Eileen has a little time to breathe (but still plenty to do -- she'll get more breathing time in the summer, God willing).

We are going to take a family field trip on Thursday to Washington, D.C. Everyone is excited about it. I'm excited too... on the inside. But my body doesn't want to go anywhere.

I'm going on this field trip with my family. I don't care what it takes! John Paul is turning 17 in a little over a month. He will be a senior in high school in the fall. From there we know not yet where he will go. And Agnese won't be long in going her way. The family is growing, and this is beautiful. I want them to spread their wings and fly.

I also want to be available for the time we have together.

But I'm so tired. I've had some pain in the past few months, and I'm spending more time in bed during the day (although at least I have a tablet to keep me connected to the world, and even to write a bit). I also read as much as I can.

Physical books are lovely things. Tactile with pages that turn. And they are gentle to the eye. For me, it's hard to rest with an ebook. The light from the inside jacks up my brain, somehow. On the other hand, they're good on days when it's hard to hold open the pages of a physical book.

Josefina having adventures with her dolls.

Then there's Josefina, who comes bounding in to jump on the bed and visit me. I read to her, or we watch a video. Sometimes we just "talk" -- she says, "Daddy, can we talk?" So we talk about things, like her dolls and their adventures, or school things, or cooking, or questions about the body and the soul and death (she's been asking those questions since way back). Sometimes I just say, "Why don't you get a book to read yourself, and I'll read my book?" Heh, it's worth a try....

Well, if I'm going to make that trip, I need to budget my limited energy, so I shall put aside for now the particularly tiring work of writing. I also need to save up some energy in case Josefina wants to "talk" some more!


Wishing everyone a very happy Easter Week!

Happy Easter 2014: May All Our Moments Be Filled

The Janaros, Easter 2014. John and Eileen; John Paul (almost 17),
Agnese (15 1/2), Lucia (13 1/2), Teresa (11) and Josefina (7 1/2)

Tulips in the church yard. Spring has finally come.

At the church: Christ is Risen, Alleluia! He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!

Teresa and Josefina, the "little kids"!

Going for the goodies in the Easter Basket.

This is NOT "cake" for breakfast. No one eats cake
for breakfast! This is a "cheese danish."

Picnic in the afternoon. At the Virginia Arboretum.

Picnic hamper.

A fine picnic feast!

An Uncle-to-Nephew talk.

After playing hard, Josefina enjoys the food too.

Nature's beauty is everywhere to be found.

Nature's beauty.

Blue Ridge in the distance.

Our prayers go out to all of our loved ones and friends that they might be blessed with all the joy of this Easter season. Jesus is risen, and may all our moments be filled with the newness of His glorious life.

Alleluia!

The Easter Triduum: Finding Again the Depths of Love

These are the most beautiful days of the year. These are the days when we permit ourselves to be silent within, to allow our minds and hearts to turn again, to be converted and changed by that great and singular event of history: the event that defines the meaning of all reality and of each and every one of us who has ever lived.

I am silent now. There is the glory of God.

The Cross is the Glory of God.

"Jesus answered them, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.... Now is the judgement of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself’" (John 12:23, 31-32).

I am silent now. I find within myself so much that is sinful, and broken, and unworthy; and the depth of it all seems bottomless. But the love of God is deeper.

Jesus.
________________________

The Young John Janaro was eloquent about his experience of the Easter Triduum in the year 1991. I like what he wrote in his journal, and so I shall present it here as we journey through this night to Paschal dawn.