We are gradually moving farther away from each other, enlarging the "empty tomb" in size and depth. Absence is slowly defining human life in a world wrapped in universal grief. How possible is it to imagine any glimpse of hope in the absence we continue to experience?
After having been touched by a new comprehension, my call to be prophetic takes a turn in the spiral of life, a turn from which there is no return. And that means a change of attitude about who I am and what I do.
Learning from the Resurrection message, in this time of darkness, as we witness suffering and death, how are we being called to reach out in compassion to those around us?
Handel's "Messiah" was first performed at Easter in Dublin 278 years ago. It stands today an incomparable work, a total experience — not a theatrical show or a performance just for entertainment. Its portrayal of the life of Christ through Scripture set to music just gets into your soul.
When we entered the Lenten season just six weeks ago, who among us would have imagined celebrating Holy Week and Easter amid so much death and suffering?
Horizons - In these circumstances, the Passion takes on new meaning. Just as I now cringe as I notice the distance between people in life, on TV and in movies, I immerse myself in the way of the cross in a new way.
Now, in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, it's hand-washing that is the very big deal. We wash our own hands. Over and over. We wash them for each other: ritual — the Resilience of Reciprocity.
Contemplate This - This pandemic is a moment when the "I" is becoming a "we." It is going to be painful and we will suffer. But how we understand and experience that suffering is critical to how we emerge from this.
Young sisters living in multigenerational communities express concern for their sisters who are in the highest risk groups for COVID-19, some of whom are not heeding advice of the medical community.
Horizons - This Lent, we are stripping away so much. We are left with the presence of God in our solidarity, the coming of spring, phone calls, video chats, emails, and the care and concern we show to one another.
We had found excuses, justifying our way of living in the midst of people yet away from them. Then, we began our new project in September, and every family welcomed us with much joy and spent time in conversation with us.
This is a new reality for me, a physician assistant, as I have always prided myself on doing the very best for my patients and really going the extra mile. I have advocated for patients who have nothing. Now there are times I feel like I have very little to offer.
Horizons - Off and on, for the past few years, I have sensed a crisis looming. But I never thought it would be like this, a global coronavirus pandemic. Yet here we are. The crisis has arrived, and it is serious and costly.
The feast of the Annunciation - Recently at my friend's funeral, I started to think of all the nods we give in a day, just a simple bowing of the head. Yes.
I ask myself in times of reflection, "Is God still waiting for me to discover what has been planned out for me? Are the signs there but I continue to miss them?"
Contemplate This - It is hard to gain a perspective when you are in the middle of uncertainty like the coronavirus pandemic, to make sense of what is going on and how the future will emerge.
Horizons - No one belongs on a pedestal. It is both lonely and dangerous. We are meant to live on the earth, grounded in reality and feet firmly planted. This could easily turn cynical, I realize. To fail to admire good qualities in another is no virtue.
