Holy Saturday

Good Friday

I can't imagine knowing the day or the hour of my death. Death is a mystery I contemplate quite a bit, but not as if it is imminent. For some reason I can't stop thinking about the weight of Christ's self-knowledge. We know from the evangelist that Jesus wasn't born understanding everything about himself. We know the "child grew in wisdom (Luke2)." Yet during his public ministry the thought must have surfaced and receded a hundred times. The final journey to Jerusalem would be his last. Did he wonder at table that night what it would be like to die? Did he eat and drink and sing with his friends all the while slipping into a desperate sadness that would overflow in the nearby garden? Did he see those angels who came to comfort him? At what point did the fear give way to the certainty that GOD was with him? That GOD would make this selfless act the end of death itself? That beyond death there was a reality too wonderful to name or describe? I wonder... Christ's passion and death seem the point of complete cooperation - the place where humanity and divinity, in their fullness, resolve to choose love. The Word is flesh. The Son of God weeps and bleeds as we all do. But on that good Friday, so long ago, Love went where it had never gone before - into the depths of our fear and suffering - so that we'd never have to go there alone...ever again. "Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the Savior of the world. Come, let us worship."

Holy Thursday

He washed their feet. That carnal act of tender care never ceases to amaze me. Tonight, my prioress washed the feet of twelve willing souls – lay and monastic, male and female, young and old. It’s a powerful sight – a ritual that concretizes the gospel in a simple act of love. We are to be as he was – servant of all. It’s really that simple.

The feast that followed ushered in the new season – the great three days of Triduum. A lamb – symbol of the Paschal sacrifice – was shared among sisters and friends. Our simple dining room transformed into a banquet hall – we feasted in His honor.

It’s late for me now. But the night will go on here. We are staying awake with the Lord tonight. The Lord’s Supper and our festive banquet are past. Now, we sit and vigil before the Blessed Sacrament until midnight. Tonight, we treasure the presence of Him who will be taken from us tomorrow. We know how the story goes – unlike those poor apostles. How wonderful to stay awake an hour with Him – to strain against sleep for love of the risen One who need die no more. Even now – in risen glory – we remember his passage. We remember and we listen in the silence for the first bells of Easter. We remember and we believe.
Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki

Home for the holy days...

"Love and truth will meet; justice and peace will kiss.

Truth will spring from the earth; justice will look down from heaven.

The LORD will surely grant abundance; our land will yield its increase."
PSALM 85:11-13