Good Friday - Veneration of the Cross

A short video clip from our veneration of the Cross during the Commemoration of Our Lord's Passion today.

Daffodills

 

As I wandered round our garden, a few days ago, looking sadly at our “hosts of golden daffodils” which had given us so much joy and delight in recent weeks, but now were withering and dying in the bitter April winds that were sweeping across the lawns, Isaiah chapter 53 came spontaneously to mind :

“See my Servant……

as the crowds were appalled on seeing him, so disfigured did he look that he seemed no longer human…

Like a sapling he grew up in front of us, like a root in arid ground.

No look to attract our eyes,

without beauty, without majesty we saw him….

a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering.”

There, in the dying daffodils, I could visualise Jesus writhing in pain, being bent to the ground, buffeted by the wind – his skin drying up…. many flowers had already fallen – rejected – no longer any use to decorate our altars or tables. Yes, there he was, crushed for our sins, symbolically portrayed by the dying flowers. And as I looked around and saw all the other rows of daffodils – another line of Scripture came to mind, this time from Matthew 9 :

“And when he saw the crowds, he felt sorry for them, because they were harassed and dejected like sheep without a shepherd.”

So many sad and broken people in our country, in our world – hungry – yes, for food, but deeper still a hunger and yearning for – they know not what.

They have never heard or, having heard, rejected him – the One who died for us all, only to rise again after three days in the tomb, in a glorious resurrection giving radiant life to his little children.

Yes, the daffodils too will die and be thrown out  on a compost heap – and will lie there until perhaps next spring, when they will be nourishment for other young plants.

Father, you have so many ways to teach us. Thank you for the wonders hidden in our “hosts of golden daffodils”

Reflection on the Readings for Palm Sunday

The First Reading for Palm Sunday is taken from Isaiah (50:4-9) - which seems a very good start to the week ahead. Worth thinking about and contemplating ... 'Each morning he wakes me to hear: to listen, like a disciple ...' St Dominic is said to have carried with him wherever he walked (and he certainly walked, ... and walked ... and walked ....) the Gospel according to St Matthew. He is a good model for us who profess to be Dominicans, and Isaiah too has very appropriate advice for us, I think. 

We cannot begin to understand what the Lord has done for us, unless we listen to what is happening and said in all the events of Holy Week; we need to be people whose ears are attuned to God, so that we may the more sincerely open ourselves to receive all He wants to give us ... and to remember that He has died for this very reason. May the Blessed Mother of God and our St Dominic be with us to accompany us in our journey through the week; and intercede for us and for all those around the world who will not have the joy or the freedom to share in the Liturgy; for those who have not the faith to know how they are loved; for those who do not know the wonder of the gift of life.

Farewall to Sr Agata Teresa

On Tuesday last, Sr Agata Teresa flew back to her monastery in Austria early in the morning. We had a 'goodbye' recreation the evening before and Sr Agata Teresa produced produced some beautiful surprises for us ... have a look at the photos below ... and then through the April showers, broke a fascinating rainbow, to the glory of God!

Is it a fan?
Not a fan at all! A whole lot of little nuns - a community in fact!
Wherever did she find the time to do all that?!

A close up.
Can you guess who is who?

Each of us is represented here somehow - the challenge is to try and recognise which one fits our identity ...

 

And here we are ... trying to figure it out .. makes a change from doing the crossword!

Sorted! Everyone had met her match!

With St Dominic in our cloister garth .. and a rainbow ..
a nice gift from the Lord for Sr Agata just before the sun sets