A Sunday Thought to Start the Week Off Right
A lot going on this Sunday: It's the last day of the Easter Octave. It's also: the Sunday of Divine Mercy in the Novus Ordo Calendar; Low Sunday in the Traditional Calendar. Oh, and let's not forget that in the Traditional Calendar, "Low" (contrasting this Sunday with the greatest of all Sundays, Easter Sunday) is only one name for this Sunday. It's also called "White Sunday" in remembrance of the days when the newly baptized Christians would don white gowns and wear them throughout the Easter Octave. Then there's "Quasimodo" Sunday, a name taken from the first words of the Introit.
That is a lot, isn't it?
With all that, we're still only getting started with the Easter Season, which runs from Easter through Pentecost. The first forty days last through Ascension Thursday, with ten more days tacked on until Pentecost. Only then do we get back to "business as usual," what the newer calendar refers to as "Ordinary Time."
The joyful celebrations of Easter contrast with the physical and spiritual rigors of Lent. If you made the effort to observe Lent in some serious fashion, you might feel a certain lightening up in your soul. The practice of extra prayer, fasting, and almsgiving can add a weighty feeling when it lasts for forty days. And while we're certainly not putting our prayers, sacrifices and charity away in the closet as we did with our Christmas decorations, the intensity of all this eases up a bit.
Of course, we don't want to do a "180" here. Our Easter celebrations, to be enjoyed for sure, don't mean we all become heathens and forsake the pursuit of holiness, that desire to be closer to God. It's kind of like taking on a really intense, extreme work-out routine. You don't do it 365 days a year. There's a period of days or weeks where you really apply yourself all-out. You understand and embrace the reality of "no pain, no gain." It's the price you pay for improvement. Then there's a period of respite and restoration. But you don't run out and eat Crispy Creme donuts and guzzle beer during that break time. You maintain your discipline, just not with the same intensity; you recover and restore. Then, if you seek further improvement, perhaps you take on another round of those intense work-outs.
The difference between our desire for physical improvement and our desire (and need) for spiritual improvement: There's no "perhaps." We always seek further improvement in our spiritual lives. And we understand that our efforts will be accompanied by those crosses the Lord deigns to share with us. Those crosses are our spiritual "no pain, no gain." It's a price we willingly pay. And with time and persistence, the things of this world slowly fade from our list of "must haves" and those of the spirit take their place. This passage from The Inner Life of the Soul makes crystal clear the view of those who would persist in the spiritual life despite the price:
"Such men understand these things so clearly that they cannot comprehend how other men are blind; how other men care for things that are seen, things that can cheat and fade and die, when the Divine and Immortal is so near. A musician rapt in his music, a sculptor in his art, a poet in his fairest dreams, are only types of these divinely enamored souls. Men talk of mystics. There are more mystics in the Church to-day than many of us imagine. Other men misjudge them, and often God hides His face; humiliations come fast, and fall heavily; for these souls must be tried, as gold in the fire, till all dross is burned away. They are called fools and mad, as their Master was; and it is said sharply that they should be content to live like other people, an ordinary and easy life."
With the Easter Season now at full throttle, we end today's thoughts with these words of hope from St. Alphonsus Liguori's meditation on the final Station of the Cross:
I beseech Thee, by Thy resurrection, make me rise glorious with Thee at the last day, to be always united with Thee in heaven, to praise Thee and love Thee forever.
That is a lot, isn't it?
With all that, we're still only getting started with the Easter Season, which runs from Easter through Pentecost. The first forty days last through Ascension Thursday, with ten more days tacked on until Pentecost. Only then do we get back to "business as usual," what the newer calendar refers to as "Ordinary Time."
The joyful celebrations of Easter contrast with the physical and spiritual rigors of Lent. If you made the effort to observe Lent in some serious fashion, you might feel a certain lightening up in your soul. The practice of extra prayer, fasting, and almsgiving can add a weighty feeling when it lasts for forty days. And while we're certainly not putting our prayers, sacrifices and charity away in the closet as we did with our Christmas decorations, the intensity of all this eases up a bit.
Of course, we don't want to do a "180" here. Our Easter celebrations, to be enjoyed for sure, don't mean we all become heathens and forsake the pursuit of holiness, that desire to be closer to God. It's kind of like taking on a really intense, extreme work-out routine. You don't do it 365 days a year. There's a period of days or weeks where you really apply yourself all-out. You understand and embrace the reality of "no pain, no gain." It's the price you pay for improvement. Then there's a period of respite and restoration. But you don't run out and eat Crispy Creme donuts and guzzle beer during that break time. You maintain your discipline, just not with the same intensity; you recover and restore. Then, if you seek further improvement, perhaps you take on another round of those intense work-outs.
The difference between our desire for physical improvement and our desire (and need) for spiritual improvement: There's no "perhaps." We always seek further improvement in our spiritual lives. And we understand that our efforts will be accompanied by those crosses the Lord deigns to share with us. Those crosses are our spiritual "no pain, no gain." It's a price we willingly pay. And with time and persistence, the things of this world slowly fade from our list of "must haves" and those of the spirit take their place. This passage from The Inner Life of the Soul makes crystal clear the view of those who would persist in the spiritual life despite the price:
"Such men understand these things so clearly that they cannot comprehend how other men are blind; how other men care for things that are seen, things that can cheat and fade and die, when the Divine and Immortal is so near. A musician rapt in his music, a sculptor in his art, a poet in his fairest dreams, are only types of these divinely enamored souls. Men talk of mystics. There are more mystics in the Church to-day than many of us imagine. Other men misjudge them, and often God hides His face; humiliations come fast, and fall heavily; for these souls must be tried, as gold in the fire, till all dross is burned away. They are called fools and mad, as their Master was; and it is said sharply that they should be content to live like other people, an ordinary and easy life."
With the Easter Season now at full throttle, we end today's thoughts with these words of hope from St. Alphonsus Liguori's meditation on the final Station of the Cross:
I beseech Thee, by Thy resurrection, make me rise glorious with Thee at the last day, to be always united with Thee in heaven, to praise Thee and love Thee forever.
Happy Easter!
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