Patience - G.M. Hopkins, sj

PATIENCE, hard thing! the hard thing but to pray,
But bid for, Patience is! Patience who asks
Wants war, wants wounds; weary his times, his tasks;
To do without, take tosses, and obey.

Rare patience roots in these, and, these away,
Nowhere. Natural heart’s ivy, Patience masks
Our ruins of wrecked past purpose. There she basks
Purple eyes and seas of liquid leaves all day.

We hear our hearts grate on themselves: it kills
To bruise them dearer. Yet the rebellious wills
Of us we do bid God bend to him even so.

And where is he who more and more distils
Delicious kindness?—He is patient. Patience fills
His crisp combs, and that comes those ways we know.

From Lent to Easter

I began my journey towards easter last Ash Wednesday giving in to my curiosity about the etymology of words “lent” and “easter”. These English words for the liturgical season that we started to celebrate are so different from the words used here in Europe and elsewhere: “quaresima” (orig. latin = referring to “40 days”) and “pasqua” (orig. Hebrew referring to “Pesach”, then latinized to "Pasche"). What did I find so far?
Here’s what an online dictionary says: Lent= short for Lenten, from old English “lencten” (spring); from *lanngaz (root of lang "long") + *tina-, a root meaning "day" (cf. Goth. sin-teins "daily"); the compound probably refers to the increasing daylight. Lent, therefore, refers to the natural cycle of the lengthening of daylight when spring approaches, leaving the long nights of winter. The church has consequently “baptized” this period giving it a liturgical sense as the "period between Ash Wednesday and Easter.”
Easter, on the other hand, seemed easy to decipher at first glance, given the root word “east” – from where the sun rises, reminding me of the first verses of St. Mark’s resurrection gospel (Mk 16:2 = “very early when the sun had risen” = Jesus’ rising? ). And yet, what did I find? Here’s what the same dictionary says: Old English = Eastre (Northumbrian Eostre), from Greek mythology *Austron, a goddess of fertility and sunrise whose feast was celebrated at the spring equinox, from *austra-, from *aus- "to shine" (especially of the dawn). Bede says Anglo-Saxon Christians adopted her name and many of the celebratory practices for their Mass of Christ's resurrection. It is indeed very interesting to note the parallel here with the origin of the Christmas celebration as an adaptation of the “invincible sun” of the pagan practices. At any rate, what becomes evident is that the Roman liturgical terminology holds on to the Judaeo-latin word base while the English terminology is more affiliated to nature (creation theology, anyone?).
In spiritual life, what this invites me to do as I re-program my journey harmonizing it with the present liturgical moment is this: struggle to find in my human nature what needs to be “lengthened”. Lent – lengthening of days, invites me to lengthen my patience with myself considering my weaknesses and those of others. Easter – looking to the East that is “Christ-rising” invites me to look forward in hope. Transformation is possible because Christ, our hope, has conquered suffering and death. Notwithstanding the signs of corruption and decay that I see around me (and sometimes, even inside me), my faith in Christ tells me that “all shall be well...”
And as if to confirm this spiritual project, I got this message from an Indian priest giving me formidable example of someone who has effected transformation in the world through the change he effected in himself. See here... It is striking to note how close his words and ways were to that of our Lord Jesus, even if he was not a Christian. Remember the last slide of this presentation: "You must be the change you wish to see in the world."

Have a holy journey towards Easter!

The "music is the same..."

I have been struggling to make sense of today's Gospel reading from St. Luke ( cf Lk 6:17-27) more popularly known as the "blessing and the woes", parallel to St. Matthew's Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12). My “struggle” is to read it in the perspective of real people today: like the Haitians after the devastating earthquake suffered a month ago leaving a third of the population practically without anything; like a very close friend who discovered she had cancer just three weeks ago and is now waiting what happens next…
It sounds like a “very passive” Gospel to me in the sense that those who are blessed or fortunate didn’t have to do anything. They just have to be: poor, hungry, weeping, hated-excluded-insulted and denounced as evil on account of the Son of Man. These are the recipients of God’s blessings that is, his Kingdom, his joy! How could that come about?
Of course, the clue is always in the life of Jesus – the one who has lived through the extremest “contrasts” in life: God-made-man, as man, denounced-crucified-killed, whose only crime was “because he did all things well” (Mk 7:37). Going deeper into this clue which means going right into the heart of the relationship between Jesus and his Father, I gradually get some light: yes, the beatitudes make sense if we manage to relate with each other along this sphere. This insight came to me, thanks to a late afternoon email from a sister in Taiwan with an attached inspirational clip. Watch this and you’ll see what I mean.