Opening Prayer

+ O Lord, my only hope, do not leave me alone. My Strength, make hast to help me!

Scripture

As they led him away they took hold of a certain Simon, a Cyrenian,…and after laying the cross on him, they made him carry it behind Jesus. A large crowd of people followed Jesus, including many women who mourned and lamented him. When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him and the criminals there….Above him there was an inscription that read, “This is the King of the Jews.” It was now about noon and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon

because of an eclipse of the sun. Then the veil of the temple was torn down the middle.Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”; and when he had said this he breathed his last.The centurion who witnessed what had happened glorified God and said, “This man was innocent beyond doubt.” (cf. Luke 22.14-23.56)

Meditation

Fall Silent before the cross, our only hope. What a big statement. While reflecting on our theme for Holy Week, I kept coming back to the cross being “our only hope.” When I hear that, I think about all the things that might cause me to lose hope, like the fear of losing my husband or children, or the fear of losing control in my life. I fear the silence because it is where I am most vulnerable. In the silence, there is nothing to hide behind, nothing to keep me from confronting my own cross, my own struggles, or my own faults. Maybe that is why silence is such a challenge for so many of us. It challenges us to go deeper, to really face head-on the things we are so attached to in this world.

When faced with my own fears, I find myself clinging to what I can control and missing what’s really important. I plan ahead so meticulously, envisioning every possible outcome, that I forget to be present in the moment with the very people I would fear to lose. I find that I need to stop and ask God for the desire to give up control, for the desire to fall silent, because I’ve come to realize I can’t do it on my own.

Thankfully, God does not require our perfection. He is only asking us to take on our crosses. He is challenging us to hold our tongues in heated arguments and choose peace. He is challenging us to love and forgive the over-tired babies and toddlers during those extra Holy Week liturgies. He is asking us to love Him more and our vices less. He is asking us to choose Him, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts… especially when it hurts.

This season of Lent gives us a chance to find and identify those attachments and fears that are blocking God’s light from getting through to touch our hearts. Holy Week, in turn, is when we have the opportunity to really go deeper, focusing all of our attention on getting those barriers out of the way. Holy Week is sacrificial. It’s intense. It’s the last and biggest hill of the marathon of Lent, meant to prepare our hearts to be transformed and renewed by His love. We take down the iron bars of all our fears, and give them to Jesus. We scrape away the mud and dirt of sin and the pain we’ve caused, and give those to Jesus. We break down our barriers, our walls, and defenses so that only our hearts are left; our exposed, open, uncovered hearts. We open wide the inner-most doors of ourselves, take our hearts, and so vulnerably, give them to Jesus. It is there that we can fall silent with Him. When our hearts are filled with Jesus, there is no more room for fear. So let us fall silent, and let His cross be our only hope.

- Kathryn Van Besien, St. Edward