Holy Week isn’t a mental exercise in theology, but a time to put on the mind of the Messiah and walk with him.
The promise is not anything normal. The promise is something new, finally. And this newness can, in fact, often be quite backwards and unexpected. And yet, it is precisely this that fulfills and satisfies in the most unforeseen and unforeseeable ways.
Sin is not just breaking the Father’s rules. Holiness is not just following the Father’s rules. We’re playing a different game.
The good news is that it is beside our well, the well we have dug out in our desert, that the Lord waits for us. Not on the other side of the desert—waiting for us to figure it out ourselves. No, he’s there. And it’s there—and only there—that the Lord offers to give us a water that will quench our thirst forever, that will give us “eternal life,” the life that come through Jesus, the life we saw in his Transfiguration—the life we’re looking for.
The account of the Transfiguration is more than a cool party trick. It reveals a path toward the radiant and transformed life we all want.
Lent is a time to allow ourselves to be tempted, to allow us to see who we truly are, and to allow us to receive the Lord’s restoring life once again.
There is a temptation to focus my energy on broad scale social issues. But perhaps God’s method is much more particular and scandalous than that.
Probably one of the most unnatural things we are asked to do? Show mercy and forgive.
Nothing has been as life-changing in my life as the hours I have committed to Eucharistic Adoration.
A Eucharistic renewal calls for a renewed look at what we are doing at the Mass.