Christ is Risen

Please listen to this great song by Matt Maher; it captures the beauty, triumph, and challenge of the Resurrection. A blessed Easter to each one of you!

Jesus Christ, Our King, is Risen!

REJOICE, HEAVENLY POWERS! SING, CHOIRS OF ANGELS!

Exult, all creation around God's throne! Jesus Christ, our King, is risen!

Sound the trumpet of salvation! Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendor,

radiant in the brightness of your King! Christ has conquered! Glory fills you! Darkness vanishes for ever!

Rejoice, O Mother Church! Exult in glory!

The risen Savior shines upon you!

Let this place resound with joy,

echoing the mighty song of all God's people!

My dearest friends,

standing with me in this holy light,

join me in asking God for mercy,

that he may give his unworthy minister

grace to sing his Easter praises.

Deacon: The Lord be with you.

People: And also with you.

Deacon: Lift up your hearts.

People: We lift them up to the Lord.

Deacon: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

People: It is right to give him thanks and praise.

It is truly right

that with full hearts and minds and voices

we should praise the unseen God, the all-powerful Father,

and his only Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.

For Christ has ransomed us with his blood,

and paid for us the price of Adam's sin to our eternal Father!

This is our passover feast,

when Christ, the true Lamb, is slain,

whose blood consecrates the homes of all believers.

This is the night

when first you saved our fathers:

you freed the people of Israel from their slavery

and led them dry-shod through the sea.

This is the night

when the pillar of fire destroyed the darkness of sin!

This is the night

when Christians everywhere,

washed clean of sin and freed from all defilement,

are restored to grace and grow together in holiness.

This is the night

when Jesus Christ broke the chains of death

and rose triumphant from the grave.

What good would life have been to us,

had Christ not come as our Redeemer?

Father, how wonderful your care for us!

How boundless your merciful love!

To ransom a slave you gave away your Son.

O happy fault,

O necessary sin of Adam,

which gained for us so great a Redeemer!

Most blessed of all nights,

chosen by God to see Christ rising from the dead!

Of this night scripture says:

"The night will be as clear as day:

it will become my light, my joy."

The power of this holy night dispels all evil,

washes guilt away, restores lost innocence,

brings mourners joy;

it casts out hatred, brings us peace,

and humbles earthly pride.

Night truly blessed when heaven is wedded to earth

and man is reconciled with God!

Therefore, heavenly Father,

in the joy of this night,

receive our evening sacrifice of praise,

your Church's solemn offering.

Accept this Easter candle,

a flame divided but undimmed,

a pillar of fire that glows to the honor of God.

Let it mingle with the lights of heaven

and continue bravely burning

to dispel the darkness of this night!

May the Morning Star which never sets

find this flame still burning:

Christ, that Morning Star,

who came back from the dead,

and shed his peaceful light on all mankind,

your Son, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

Amen.

The Cross

The Cross. It's the very sign of faith in Christ. We sign it all the time, wear it around our necks, and see it present in every tribe, tongue, people and nation. This Friday called "Good" marks the day when Jesus gave His life up for our sakes, to save us from sin, and to restore us to the promise of everlasting life--by dying on a cross.

Yesterday evening as blood dripped from His pores, Jesus asked His Father if there might be another way for Him to save us all. While He asked if the cup might pass before Him, He knew full well that the cup which lay before Him must be filled with His own Blood "so that sins may be forgiven." When we drink of the cup filled for us at Calvary, we receive an elixir unlike any other. We receive Him into our very bodies--and souls--to replenish, restore, and redeem.

But if we are really to be Christ-like, can we expect not to bear crosses of our own? This is what we're asked today.

A major fault we suffer from is the downplay of Good Friday and the exaltation of Easter Sunday. We shy away from bruised and bloody Jesus, from the torments and tortures He endured, instead looking to the Resurrection, the glorious Christ in a clean white robe, ready to be revealed to His followers once more. But if we forget about the Crucifixion, we fail to see the connection between Christ's life and our own. We're only able to receive Him through the Eucharist because He gave Himself up as the ultimate sacrifice!

So, too do our sacrifices have meaning, especially when we unite them to the one on Calvary. For those who have truly experienced some deep suffering, they know that superficial consolations or fleeting comforts don't do a think to ease the pain they face. But when that suffering is given a purpose--uniting our sufferings to Jesus' on the Cross for the sake of others, we're able to persevere and call upon Jesus to be with us one our Stations, on our way to Calvary. It's called redemptive suffering, and it's exactly what being Christian is all about, offering one's life for many, in even the smallest of ways.

At times when I pray before a crucifix I find myself saying to God, "For me? Really?" Christ's love for us is so total, all that He is for us, that I find myself cowering from it, thinking it too great to receive. But like the Centurian who said "Lord, I am not worthy to receive You," Christ is offering to heal us, no matter how unworthy we may be. The truth is we're all unworthy and He wants to wash away our "iniquities" with His Blood--in Baptism, in Reconciliation, in the Eucharist Himself. The more we unite with Him the more the Cross becomes something invaluable, necessary to wear not just over our hearts--but on our hearts as well.

He died on the Cross for you. He loves you so much. Seek Him where He may be found--on the Cross, on which is hung our Salvation.

Stay Here With Me

A chilly night

Stars scattered across the clear black night. 

Dew settling on the olive trees, cold earth, a sent of pollen. 

Winter mixed with Spring.

Jesus, ahead some distance, 

Bent over, tired, distressed.

While in that dark garden, Jesus enters into such fervent prayer and wrenching emotions that he begins to sweat blood. He can hardly hold himself together, much less, take care of his bumbling companions. "Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me. . ." Weak, scared, and knowing he will be killed, Jesus trusts nevertheless. ". . . still, not my will but yours be done." When everything in his body told him to run away, Jesus trusted. Jesus loved his Father and, like a child, held his loving hand as he wandered into the unknown chaos of darkness.

Enter the sleeping disciples: the antithesis of Jesus' trust and obedience. Be it their Passover feast, the evening's wine, the previous week's travels, or the latest heated debates in Jerusalem about Jesus, the four apostles are exhausted and just cannot keep themselves awake. They are taken defenseless by sleep.

Somehow composing himself, Jesus returns to the apostles: "So you could not keep watch with me for one hour? Watch and pray that you may not undergo the test. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

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The more true we are to Christianity, the more certain we are to experience the loneliness of the darkest nights. With every prayer we say and work of mercy we perform, we are giving ourselves over to the same fate that Jesus did: resurrection through the cross. Just like Jesus, in one way or another we will be stripped of the things in which we found comfort. People will leave us. Others will mock us. Time and time again we will second guess ourselves. We will wonder: is carrying my cross really worth it?


Brothers and sisters, we will want to give up and jump ship when our Christian journey has carried us to our lowest of lows. Like the apostles we will want to Jesus into the authorities, denied our friendship with him, leave him alone in the garden at his time of great need.  When we are exhausted, confused, and want nothing more than to have our lives be "nice and simple like they used to be," we are all but bound to give up the cross of Christianity. If we know anything, it's that we get things wrong; we mess up; we are imperfect.


But we have hope if we stay with Christ, if we join him in prayer. Paul puts it best:


If we have died with him we shall also live with him;

If we persevere we shall also reign with him.
But . . . if we are unfaithful he remains faithful,
For he cannot deny himself. (2 Timothy 2: 11-13)


When we falter, Christ lovingly carries us onward. All the more, Christ carries the burdens of sacrifice when we are too scared and unwilling to face loneliness, mockery, and rejection that comes with it.


As for me, I trust that in this Christian life, if I am to truly succeed, than I must give up my ego, my pride, and my security to Jesus. I must give him my all, the parts of me for which I rejoice and the parts I hide in shame. If I am his, all I have and possess is his. I must walk with Jesus to his trial, his sentencing, and to his final execution. It's a scary journey to be sure. And more often than not I am hesitant that to journey with him. But looking behind me, all I see is darkness and death. So, I stay with Christ  because I believe that his love has become this world's light through which all is made visible. I am blind without it. I must follow it, and, with great humility, preach it to the world.


Let us pray to Christ for the grace that we may heed his Father's request to "Stay here with me." May we have the grace in these days to come to recall with Christ his journey to Calvary. Moreover, that, having received his graces, we can be faithful to Him in our times of greatest darkness, fear, and uncertainty.


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Passion Sunday

Preparing for his entrance into Jerusalem and subsequent celebration of the Jewish Passover feast, Jesus appointed two of his disciples to go ahead of him and prepare a room, saying to the housekeeper:

"The teacher says, 'my appointed time draws near; in your house I shall celebrate the Passover with my disciples'” (Mt 26: 18).

Inspired by such a command, Two by Two wishes to share with you that the time to remember Christ's passion has come. With Lent having zoomed by, we are at the threshold of the most sacred days of the Church year. Walking with Christ these past 40 days has finally brought us to our destination: Jerusalem. And here, during our one short week in the Holy City, we will be witnesses to his last supper, prayerful passion, trial, sentencing, crucifixion, death, burial, and glorious resurrection.

This week is what our Christian faith is all about. Holy Week is a gift. Amidst all our daily life's demands, we should make an added effort this week to pray, reflect, and give God thanks. Spend some time in silence, open up the family Bible, attend the Holy Week services at the parish. In short, let us make time for Christ to enter more fully in our lives!

For our part, Brian and I will be posting on Two by Two from Thursday through Sunday so as to aid the prayer of our readers (and of ourselves). So, with that being said, check us out come Holy Thursday.

Blessings on you and all you love during this sacred week!

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A Sonnet on Celibacy

This evening my classmates and I will sign oaths of celibacy, fidelity to the Church, and make a profession of faith as we prepare for our ordinations in less than a month's time. While I'm usually long-winded, the following expresses my sentiments about the gift of celibacy. Please keep us in your prayers today!

Early in life our prayers begin like this:

I love you Lord; what do you ask of me?

Slowly He shows the path of our true bliss

For some like me He asks celibacy

Punishment not—no He blesses my life

Although the world thinks it a waste of time

Young man! Go forth and find yourself a wife!

But what you ask of me, Lord, makes me Thine

No spouse, no kids but father just the same

And with Your grace abundant seeds are sown

Regardless of my failures or acclaim

I know that I shall never be alone

For You an oath, You shall I behold

For what I give, receive a hundredfold…

The Habit of Christ

The Catholic Church is big, 1.16 billion big to be exact.

We have within our Church: Westerners and Easterners, White Robes and Black Robes, Celibates and Married, defenders of the Faith and seekers of the Truth, university scholars and village peasants, CEO's and refugees, priests and pilgrims, the cloistered and the apostolic. As a Universal Church, the list could very literally go on forever, from one polar opposite to the other.

So what is it that unifies this old ragtag Church of ours?

As a member of an apostolic religious community, I am always particularly amazed by my counterpart in the Church: the monastics: the men and women throughout the world who haven chosen to follow Christ within the walls of their cloister or monastery. You have probably already heard of some of these groups. They have names like the Benedictines, Carmelites, Trappists, Augustinians, and Carthusians. By the time the Jesuits were starting to traverse the globe, most of these monastic groups were already considered by their contemporary society to be ancient ways of life. Yet despite their long heritage (or should I say, because of it?), each generation of the Church's monks and nuns continue to passionately follow Christ according to the specific teachings and habits laid out by their group's founder.

To many people inside the Catholic faith (and outside it for that matter), these monks and nuns are the world's true radicals. Just think about it: their routine of prayer (7x/day), unique robes, their unassuming austerity and simple diet, their uncomfortably communal way of life, their tested humility and persistent commitment to silence.

Located within a world saturated with materialism and individualism, their community shares each others' burdens and collectively raises them to our Father in Heaven. In his obedience, his chastity, and his poverty, each monk makes his life an offering to Christ. They live in the hope that, in response, Christ will do with him what He wills.

If I make a monk's life sound too romantic, that's only because I am not a monk. For sure, being a monk is hard work. Waking up early each day for prayer, keeping himself in silence, being grateful for his community, accepting that sometimes he will be misunderstood, constantly dedicating himself to his study and work, doing it all over again day in and day out.

Why do we consider monks to be so radical? As I have been reflecting on the life of a monk, I cannot help but wonder just how similar in spirit the routine life of a monk is to that of a parent.

Thinking about it, the mother wakes up early too, takes care of others, spends time at the desk, fills out the bills and family schedules, finds nuggets of time for rest and a prayer, feeds her family, puts the kids to sleep. Then, she does it all over again the next day. Although the parental robes look nothing like those of Carthusian and the parent's routine is anything but silent, overall, the daily life of a dedicated, faithful, and loving parent is not totally dissimilar from the daily life of the monks.

All faithful people share the habit (the day-in and day-out routine) of following Christ. All of us seek to have Him be our center, our teacher, our friend, and our Savior.

All too often we tend to think of monks as holier than the rest of us. For sure, monks are holy people, but so is everyone else who gives their lives to the Gospel. Holiness is not dependent upon what you wear, where you live, or the specific prayers you say. Holiness is dependent upon Christ. Whether we are a stay-at-home mom or the president of a company, a seminarian or a lapsed Catholic, to be holy is to give our lives to the teaching, example, and life of Jesus Christ. The Church is big and there is no one style of Catholicism that is "more right" than the others save that of making Christ the center of our lives. Whether we are in the Grande Chartreuse or Suburbia, USA, a life centered in Christ comes through the routine experiences of the Sacraments, service, community, and prayer.

In a review for PBS of the award-winning film Of Gods and Men, Fr. James Martin, SJ, said this: "The life of the contemplative and the life of the active person are untied in the monks and should be united in all religious people." Well said, Fr. Martin!

As a Jesuit, my life is lived more out of a suitcase than a monastery cell. So it goes that I am not a monk. The overwhelming majority of the Church aren't monks either. But as they hold a rich and lasting tradition in the Church, they have something to teach us about dedicating ourselves to a routine life rooted in the person of Christ. So when you have the time, search around the Church's attic. With 1.16 billion members, you will never ceased to be surprised by what you will find and, moreover, in what way those finding relates to you.