First Week of Lent

Lenten reflection:

March 11, 2025

Walking out of work the other day, in a hurry, and Jesus stopped me. He said, “My friend, my car won’t start, I’m scared and don’t know what to do!” Of course, my response was predictable. First, an empathetic statement: “So sorry, that must be very stressful for you!” Then, practical advice: “If you have jumper cables, you can just ask somebody to pull up next to you and follow the directions on the instruction sheet.” And then, the clean break: “On my way to an appointment, I’m being interviewed about my ministry today! Good luck!” Jesus did not flinch, he was not fazed by the irony, he just kept looking at me. Finally, honesty: “Where are you parked? It’s no problem, it will only take a few minutes.” May my constant need to be given over to others in service be paired with the graced awareness that Jesus is constantly calling out to me in the poverty of a world that is still in formation. May my Lent be an occasion to see Jesus and rejoice.

March 13, 2025

Let’s walk a labyrinth during Lent! This meditative path is not a maze. We don’t need to figure anything out, or struggle to read clues, or feel lost in a mirror of confusion. Rather, walking a labyrinth is designed for our benefit, a flowing pattern with a clear beginning and a clear end point with lots of mystery in between. The only choice for one who walks a labyrinth is simply whether to move forward or not. This journey trains us to trust: while we may have a very clear idea of the destination, the way there seems to constantly take us away from our goal and thus challenges us to put one foot in front of the other and be open to the possibilities. Such a surprise orientation to life will draw us more closely to the empty tomb where we shall be overcome with the emotion of his resurrection.

Brother Don Alger, FSC, Ed.D.

Looking at the art:

Balassi has depicted the iconic scene recounted in John’s Gospel where Mary Magdalene approaches the empty tomb and finds the risen Jesus whom she had thought to be the gardener. As she draws close to see if it’s really the one they recently crucified, Jesus recoils telling her not to touch him. The scene has been portrayed in Christian art from the third century to the present. Here Balassi endows it with typical Italian Baroque characteristics, namely arrested action and chiaroscuro, which highlights the contrast between dark and light. Set against a dark background, dim light shines on Jesus’s body while brighter light shines on Mary’s face and particularly on her sleeve as she gestures toward him. The hands and Jesus’s flowing robes suggest stopped action across the diagonal of the canvas. Additionally, the two figures are carefully contrasted by the different colors of their robes, Jesus in blue and Mary in red with muted brown, thus separating the two figures and countering even a visual touch between them.

Reflection

It may seem strange to start a series of Lenten Reflections with a resurrection appearance.  The idea of starting with a resurrection appearance highlights the inseparable connection between death and resurrection, reminding us that renewal and transformation often come through letting go of the familiar.

The command that Mary receives from Jesus Noli Me Tangere (Do not touch me) in the Greek is closer to “Cease clinging to me.” The phrase “Cease clinging to me” resonates deeply, suggesting that our spiritual growth requires us to release our hold on past experiences and comfort zones. This can indeed be challenging, but it’s through this process that we open ourselves to new insights and deeper relationships with Jesus. Lent calls us to renew our relationship with Jesus in anticipation of the great feast of Easter.  Each year i approach Easter with a full year of experiences that I did not have last Easter.  Those experiences should lead me to examine how my relationship with Jesus is changing and what I need to let go of so that some new insight or image can take root.  Letting go is always difficult.  It is always easier to cling to what I am comfortable with than to move toward something that may not be as safe, that may require something from me.

As I approach Easter with a year’s worth of new experiences, it’s a wonderful opportunity to reflect on how these have shaped my faith and what I might need to release to embrace the renewal that the Resurrection offers. It’s a journey of trust and courage, moving towards something greater and more profound. But to experience the Resurrection I really don’t have any choice.