One Hour Retreat for Holy Week: Who Am I? Where Is My Heart?

Pope Francis’ homily from Palm Sunday 2014 has always remained with me. For this year’s “One Hour Retreat for Holy Week,” I recommend that you first go back to the Passion story as told by Matthew, which we read together at Mass on Sunday. Then read Pope Francis’ reflection below, which is structured around a series of questions, each asking us to examine ourselves and our own place in the story of Jesus’ final hours.

Take your time with each question as you ponder the biblical text. Imagine yourself in the story. Be there with Jesus. Be honest with Jesus.

A very blessed Holy Week and a joyous Easter to each of you!

POPE FRANCIS’ PALM SUNDAY HOMILY 2014

“This week begins with the festive procession with olive branches: the entire populace welcomes Jesus. The children and young people sing, praising Jesus.  But this week continues in the mystery of Jesus’ death and his resurrection. We have just listened to the Passion of our Lord. We might well ask ourselves just one question:  Who am I? Who am I, before my Lord? Who am I, before Jesus who enters Jerusalem amid the enthusiasm of the crowd? Am I ready to express my joy, to praise him? Or do I stand back? Who am I, before the suffering Jesus?

We have just heard many, many names. The group of leaders, some priests, the Pharisees, the teachers of the law, who had decided to kill Jesus. They were waiting for the chance to arrest him. Am I like one of them?

We have also heard another name: Judas. Thirty pieces of silver. Am I like Judas? We have heard other names too: the disciples who understand nothing, who fell asleep while the Lord was suffering. Has my life fallen asleep? Or am I like the disciples, who did not realize what it was to betray Jesus? Or like that other disciple, who wanted to settle everything with a sword? Am I like them? Am I like Judas, who feigns loved and then kisses the Master in order to hand him over, to betray him? Am I a traitor?

Am I like those people in power who hastily summon a tribunal and seek false witnesses: am I like them? And when I do these things, if I do them, do I think that in this way I am saving the people?

Am I like Pilate? When I see that the situation is difficult, do I wash my hands and dodge my responsibility, allowing people to be condemned – or condemning them myself?

Am I like that crowd which was not sure whether they were at a religious meeting, a trial or a circus, and then chose Barabbas? For them it was all the same: it was more entertaining to humiliate Jesus.

Am I like the soldiers who strike the Lord, spit on him, insult him, find entertainment in humiliating him?

Am I like the Cyrenean, who was returning from work, weary, yet was good enough to help the Lord carry his cross?

Am I like those who walked by the cross and mocked Jesus:  “He was so courageous! Let him come down from the cross and then we will believe in him!” Mocking Jesus….

Am I like those fearless women, and like the mother of Jesus, who were there, suffering in silence?

Am I like Joseph [of Arimathea], the hidden disciple, who lovingly carries the body of Jesus to give it burial?

Am I like the two Marys, who remained at the Tomb, weeping and praying?

Am I like those leaders who went the next day to Pilate and said, “Look, this man said that he was going to rise again.  We cannot let another fraud take place!”, and who block life, who block the tomb, in order to maintain doctrine, lest life come forth?

Where is my heart? Which of these persons am I like? May this question remain with us throughout the entire week.”

* * * * *

Homily delivered by Pope Francis from St. Peter’s Square, Vatican, April 13, 2014; to see text on Vatican website, click here.

To see previous years' "One Hour Retreats for Holy Week," click here and here.

Unknown Egyptian artist. Gouache on papyrus. Courtesy Sacred Art Pilgrim.

Some Lenten Levity, Courtesy Dorothy Day

In honor of Laetare Sunday (“Rejoice Sunday,” marking roughly our halfway mark through Lent), I thought I’d share a story with quasi-Lenten undertones (that’s a stretch) that made me laugh out loud.

It’s from a wonderful book put together by Rosalie G. Riegle entitled Dorothy Day: Portraits by Those Who Knew Her.  The book is full of impressions, stories and memories about the real Dorothy Day from a wide survey of people who knew her in all sorts of capacities throughout her life.  

A little background on this particular story – apparently Dorothy was known for disliking contemporary music!  Rosalie narrates with the help of longtime Catholic Worker Brian Terrell:

“Often the young [Catholic] Workers would ‘have a hard time understanding the grumbling of their elder leader as an expression of love,’ as Brian Terrell says. ‘For all its craziness, the Worker is a family, and in families it often happens that the elders complain about…the younger generation.’ Brian tells a generational story about Dorothy coming upon some young people at work in Maryhouse and listening to the Carly Simon song ‘I Haven’t Got Time for the Pain.’ Dorothy shook her cane at them and said, ‘You’ve always got to have time for the pain.’”

Dorothy Day! When I'm old enough to shake my cane at people, may God grant me your panache!

I doubt Dorothy ever shook her cane at these four whipper-snappers: Ralph DiGia, Dan Berrigan, Chris Kearns, and Tom Cornell. Photo courtesy of Jim Forest’s online photo album.  Click on the picture to visit Jim’s “Dorothy Day” album.

In Every Life: My New Collection of Blog Posts Available on Amazon!

I’m excited to announce that my second book, In Every Life: 50 Reflections, is now available on amazon.com as a paperback or eBook.  In Every Life is a collection of my blogs from 2015-2016. (That Mighty Heart is my 2014 blog collection, also available on amazon.)  To go to the amazon page, click here.

I’m very grateful to my talented and generous brother, John Vineyard, who designed the beautiful cover for me.  Thank you, John!

I’m also proud of the cover because it sports book endorsements from three special people in my life:  Jim Forest, Cackie Upchurch, and Fr. Frank Matera.  Trifecta!

“Amy Ekeh writes one of the best liturgy-centered blogs, as this collection bears witness. Column after column she finds surprising stories that anchor her insights to the real world as well as to the church calendar. And did I mention that she has a sense of humor? If you get the paper edition, put it in a handy location. And if you read the e-book edition, it will be just a few clicks away.” – Jim Forest, author of biographies of Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton and Daniel Berrigan

 “Beadwork is done by selecting the appropriate colors and shapes, having in mind a final look that will make a necklace or bracelet.  It’s a fine craft to create a piece that is beautiful and timeless. In this book, Amy Ekeh proves that she knows how to select just the right colors and shapes of the spiritual life, stringing them together to make a fitting gift. Her sources are liturgy, family life, Scripture, ministry, even the radio!  She’s perfected the art of finding beauty and humor and, therefore, finding God.” – Cackie (Catherine) Upchurch, Director, Little Rock Scripture Study

 “God is always present to us, but we rarely experience that presence. Amy Ekeh, however, has learned to see God’s presence in the ordinary events of life we take for granted. Throughout this book, Amy shows us how to enjoy the God who is always present to us. Read and savor this thoughtful collection of reflections.” – Frank J. Matera, Professor Emeritus, The Catholic University of America

Thanks also to Mary Lee and Joe Gaffney, Jim Creed and Ruth Vineyard for their valuable editorial assistance!

In Every Life is also available at any of my programs. 

If you read the book, I would love for you to review it on amazon.com!

Thank you all for your support and encouragement as blog readers and as friends!

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Your Paper-Thin Wings

At Saturday’s retreat on prayer, my retreatants and I reflected on how we are made for prayer. We are human; we are free; we are made for relationships. Prayer is our relationship with God. God is not “up there” while we are “down here.” Rather, God is with us, and he desires intimacy with us. Although prayer is indisputably challenging, we were made for it. It was meant to be.

To illustrate this point, I shared something I recently heard on a Radiolab podcast (with four kids in four schools this year, I do a lot of driving and a lot of podcasting!). Radiolab was investigating how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. Do you know how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly?

A caterpillar does not simply grow wings inside its chrysalis. No, first the caterpillar dissolves into a goop. That’s right, goop. If you cut open a chrysalis during this stage, goop spills out! Somehow that goop becomes a butterfly.

But where do the wings come from?

As it turns out, the wings are already formed inside the caterpillar. Careful dissection of a prepupal caterpillar reveals paper-thin, transparent wings, tiny antennae and even legs! The structures of “butterfly-ness” exist just below the caterpillar's outer skin, waiting for transformation.

We were made for prayer, friends. The wings are already there, paper-thin, transparent, and a bit pent up. With God’s help, we can stretch out and fly.

I hope you will enjoy this Radiolab broadcast:  “Goo and You.”

"Life history of the silk moth (Bombyx mori). A, caterpillar; B, pupa; C, imago; the cocoon is cut open to show the pupa lying within." Source: J. Arthur Thomson, M.A., LL.D. Outlines of Zoology (New York, NY: D. Appleton & Company, 1916).

Lent: Are We Living Dangerously Enough?

At Lent retreats, I used to ask participants if they had ever been to the desert.  But after moving up to Connecticut, I finally stopped.  Everyone said “no.”  Except a few who would ask, “Does Las Vegas count?”

No, Las Vegas does not count.

Have you ever been to the desert? 

I have.  I understand what the desert is all about.  It is quiet, still, empty, beautiful, harsh and dangerous.  In the desert, you are always one false move away from needing something desperately.  Like water, or shade, or an antidote for a snake or spider bite. Yes, my desert had tarantulas.

In the desert you face your own fragility and the fragility of those around you.  All it takes is that mercilessly hot West Texas sun to remind you that your place in the universe is small and precarious.  Survival is not a given.

Jesus spent forty days in the desert.  Israel spent forty years.  Days and years of precarious living.  Days and years of facing one’s own weakness, accepting that survival is not a given, looking beyond oneself or one’s environment for certainty. 

Leaning heavily upon God alone, Jesus and Israel emerged from their deserts.  Israel settled in a new land and embarked upon an enormous task, to live faithfully as God’s people.  Jesus was strengthened and resolved for mission, to tell God’s story to the human race and to love his own to the end.

We speak of Lent as our desert time.  In this desert, do we recognize how fragile we are, how precarious life is, how the structures and things we depend on for security are one false move away from falling around us like a house of cards? 

Precarious living is actually Gospel living.  It recognizes that total dependence on God is where true strength is found.  The trials of the desert are where we meet God and live only by what he offers – living water, the shadow of his wing, and the antidote of his love. 

From Lent, from life, from desert, we may not emerge unscathed.  But we can emerge as God’s own, strengthened, emboldened for mission and “filled with the power of the Spirit” (Lk. 4:14). 

* * *

“If we ask God for so little it may well be because we feel the need for him so little.  We are leading complacent, secure, well-protected, mediocre lives.  We aren’t living dangerously enough; we aren’t living the way Jesus wanted us to live when he proclaimed the good news” (Anthony de Mello, Contact with God: Retreat Conferences). 

Briton Riviere, The Temptation in the Wilderness, 1898