I dated Jesus for Lent - here's what happened

by Chiara Toone

Growing up as a girl in a Catholic environment surrounded by religious sisters and married couples with huge families, certainly had its impact on me. Seeing the beauty of these callings aroused a desire within me to seek out my vocation. A vocation was something that excited me, knowing that God had a wonderful plan for me; a plan for me to prosper (Jeremiah 29:11).

However, like many young women my age that feel called to discern marriage, my life soon began to revolve around finding “the one”. Every church I entered - maybe today! Every Youth 2000 event - maybe this time! Every Catholic guy - maybe him! My day-to-day thoughts became centered upon the idea that my life would not be full until I found “the one”. This process became exhausting - and clearly wasn’t getting me anywhere.  

I soon confided in some friends at the Leeds Youth 2000 event about my frustrations surrounding this and, as young Catholic women, they of course quickly empathized. They prayed with me, asking that Jesus be the king of my heart, and that anything else that had been enthroned there in place of Him would go. Then, one of them revealed to me that this year, after some hurt she had experienced in the dating area, she had decided to “date Jesus”. This meant she would focus all the attention she would have focused on a boyfriend, instead, on Jesus. Shock and inspiration simultaneously gripped me as I contemplated her brave choice. I thought - but surely only nuns see Jesus in a romantic way? I desire to be married, I can’t be in love with Jesus and my future spouse? However, as I contemplated this idea I felt convicted of Jesus’ desire for my whole heart, not just part of it, as the prophet Joel says, “But now - declares the Lord - come back to me with all your heart” (Joel 2:12).

I told my sister and my friend about this idea and they were convinced; we made the radical decision to “date Jesus” for Lent. Our relationship status had been changed. This meant we would spend time with Jesus not because we were obligated to, but because we wanted to. My time with God wouldn’t be filled with the next regimented prayer; instead it would be spending time just for the sake of spending time with Jesus.

After beginning dating Jesus, my perception of myself and how God saw me began to grow deeper. When I would look in the mirror first thing in the morning, or just before I went out, I would know that Jesus was looking at me in admiration, saying ‘You are wholly beautiful, my beloved, and without a blemish’ (The Song of Songs 4:7). When I walked outside I would admire the creative hand of God, letting him romance me as he says “I made these just for you” (Genesis 2:29). And most importantly, my worth would not come from the next guy who would look at me, or from the idea of being loved and admired by my future (God-willing!) spouse, but my worth would come from the one who spoke me into being, the one who I have always thirsted for. As Jesus says to the woman at the well, and says to all of us - “no one who drinks the water that I shall give them will ever be thirsty again” (John 4:14).

So, Lent has now ended yet I am still “dating Jesus” - and I plan on doing so wherever and however God takes me on my journey to His heavenly home.  And no, this process is not a means to an end, and is not a solution to ultimately finding “the one”; but it's a process of realising that Jesus is The One! Our worth comes from discovering the truth that we are already loved by Him, and not from seeking out our worth and identity in our vocation. 

Funnily enough, I think this time of finding my worth in God had been preparing me for this time of isolation. Many of us now are separated from things that may have accounted for our worth; our jobs, work, social life, our dating lives. We might infer now the idea of God as a “jealous God”, one who constantly seeks our gaze to be met with his constant, ever faithful and loving gaze. He has been desiring us all along and I have learnt (and am still learning) that Jesus has desired ME all along. So, if you’re feeling lonely and dissatisfied in this time of isolation, let Jesus take you on a couple of dates, he’s quite the catch (no fishing puns intended).

“O Lord, you have seduced me, and I let myself be seduced; you were stronger than me and you have prevailed.” (Jeremiah 20:7)

Quarantine reads: Our book recommendations (Part 1)

A Y2K Collaboration Blog

As many of us continue to stay at home to save lives, now would be a good time to pause the Netflix binge and pick up a book instead! Reading Christian books can help us keep the fire of the Spirit alive within us and strengthen our relationship with God. As a starting point, we’ve put together some recommendations from fellow young Catholics:

Rooted: The Hidden Places Where God Develops You by Banning Liebscher – recommended by Daisy Vanderputt

I am currently re-reading this book by the founder of Jesus Culture. It is making the perfect quarantine read, as it is all about how God develops us and grows us in the secret places of our lives. For many of us, we have experienced a sudden change in our lives, being inside for more of the day than we are used to. However, this book has been speaking into how God wants to meet us here and now, in the deepest parts of our hearts to help us grow in trust of Him. He writes:

“Whatever your age or season of life, it takes immense courage to slow down enough to let God grow a root system in your life so that you can bear fruit that remains. You are where you are because God has planted you there. Discover what it looks like to embrace His process so you can do what He has called you to: change the world.”

I had felt like God had maybe taken a pause on any spiritual growth He had planned for me due to quarantine, yet this book is an incredible reminder that He is constantly moving and wanting to use every season of my life. This book is really easy to read, however on every page you can find yourself wanting to stop and pray about what has been spoken. I would definitely recommend this book to everyone, for deeper insight and vision into the depths of relationship that God is calling you to as a Christian.

The Jeweler’s Shop by Karol Wojtyła (St Pope John Paul II) –

recommended by Georgia Clarke

This is a beautiful play written by St John Paul II, who had a deep love for the theatre (having established the Rhapsodic Theatre in 1941 and still being involved right up until he became Pope). In a more pastoral phase, Bishop Wojtyła wrote two works, The Radiation of Fatherhood – A Mystery and this one, The Jeweler’s Shop, though written under his pseudonym Andrzej Jawien.

It’s poetic, meditative, and reveals such beautiful truths about the nature of marriage, human love and union. “The future depends on love” is a fruitful reminder from the First Act. I’d particularly recommend reading each Act (there are three in total) alongside this wonderful commentary: https://www.deogratias.co.uk/post/the-jeweler-s-shop-act-one.

The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis 

– recommended by Brittany Moster

I read this book on the recommendation of my spiritual director. It's a short book and is easily digestible. Its simplicity makes its intensely human, wholly Christian message more potent: that the love we share on Earth should prepare us for the inconceivable love of heaven.

Lewis writes about love in four manifestations: affection, friendship, romantic love, and charity. All of these, Lewis writes, but not any one in isolation, bring us closer to God. He writes beautifully about the value of each of these types of love as being manifestations of human connection that, when they are good, enhance our connection with God. For example, he writes that friendship 'is born at the moment when one man says to another "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself..."' We've all felt the sudden heart-tug of joy at finding someone who shares our beliefs, and who understands us on a deeper level than most. Our ability to love, Lewis says, and the joy of fellowship that it entails, is a tiny foretaste of the joy of heaven.

This book is not a lesson in love; rather, it's a celebration of the types of love which God made humans capable of practicing in preparation for knowing him, and a warning against those connections which may seem like love, but aren't. Especially in these days of self-isolation, Lewis' message about love rings truer than ever: we need others to teach us the love of God.

Holy Daring: The Fearless Trust of St Thérèse of Lisieux by Fr John Udris –

-recommended by Charlotte Evans

We all know and love the Little Flower, but this book explores her characteristic trait – her trust in God. The book breaks down St Thérèse’s trust into a few narrower categories, making it great for examining the areas of our lives in which we find ourselves not quite acknowledging God’s power and providence.

I found this book easy to read without being simplistic, and it helped me to bring my awareness back to the part of faith that is regularly shaken up and challenged. Fr Udris takes his cue from the Greek word ‘parrhesia’, which can be translated and used various ways: it can mean speaking freely, plainly, with confidence, or even daring to call God our Father as we do in the Lord’s Prayer. Each chapter takes a facet of St Thérèse’s confidence in God’s goodness and looks at examples from her life that show her becoming more like Christ by acknowledging her weakness and trusting in Him. ‘If we allow Thérèse to tutor us in the gospel,’ Udris writes, ‘we may rejoice to find ourselves being taken into her confidence – literally.’

I would recommend reading this quite slowly, leaving some time to think and reflect after each chapter, but its engaging and pithy style makes it an ideal book for busier people, as a few pages can go a long way towards enriching your spiritual life.

Alive in God by Timothy Radcliffe 

– recommended by Bill Dallman

This is a cracking lockdown read! In brief, the book asks how Christianity can touch the imagination of our contemporaries, when ever fewer people in the West identify as religious, arguing that we must show how everything we believe is an invitation to live fully. It's a beautifully rich tapestry of stories, quotations, anecdotes and so much more which has helped me, particularly in lockdown, to develop a deeper appreciation of the world around me, and how we can use this to truly live, and to live abundantly.

Happy Lockdown Reading!

Easter Sunday - an anchor of hope during the storm

by Theresita Joseph 

“The very first words, then, that I would like to say to every young Christian are these: Christ is alive and he wants you to be alive! He is in you, He is with you and He never abandons you. However far you may wander, he is always there, the Risen One… Risen, he shows us the light of his face, and he does not abandon all those experiencing hardship, pain and sorrow… He calls you and He waits for you to return to Him and start over again.”

 – Pope Francis, from his Urbi et Orbi message last Easter

Last year on Easter Sunday, I woke up to the sound of my dad crying. Worried and disoriented, I made my way downstairs to see my parents watching a BBC news screen displaying images of a familiar church in flames, with injured people being brought out on stretchers and others crying in agony. Sri Lanka, the country of my heritage and full of people I love, had been attacked. It was a sickening few moments of realising that this had not just been any attack, but a religiously driven one, with bombs timed to blow up several churches during their Easter Sunday mass services.

The rest of Easter Sunday for me was a blur, to say the least. Sitting in my own parish church for mass later that day, I struggled to share the joy of the Easter message I had been so ready to proclaim. Whilst, thankfully none of my family or friends had been hurt, I couldn’t stop the shock and sadness I felt for the victims who had lost their lives so tragically, and for the families broken within seconds. The worlds injustice was not news to me, yet it was the first time it had felt so close to home, both in faith and in family, and I couldn’t process why God had let it happen. 

Fast forward a year, and I find myself in the midst of another disillusioning Easter, albeit a very different one. Within a month, normal life has been turned upside down by a microscopic virus; keeping us within our homes and limiting those we can see, which feels especially foreign at Easter. For many, it has been a time of grief and fear; some have lost loved ones, some are worried for health, and some have had their livelihoods changed overnight. 

As I sat at home watching the Easter Triduum services online, it occurred to me how the the timing of both years events with the message of Easter could not have been more poignant. I was struck by the beautiful words MGR John Armitage shared in his Good Friday homily. He reminded us of how faith in Christ is our anchor during this storm; it does not mean the storm stops, but gives us hope to face it head on with confidence. He says; 

“The ultimate safe anchorage is the love of God, it is what guides us through every moment of our life. For this is the love that won’t disappoint us, for it doesn’t change or is based on the ups or downs of life we face – it is something that even death cannot take away”. 

Looking back to my confusion and sadness last Easter, I had let part of my hope in God go as I had been trying to navigate what felt like a storm of faith. I hadn’t been fully giving my doubts to God, because I didn’t think He would answer my questions, or provide ones I would understand. I was reluctant to trust; because I couldn’t see past the pain that had already occurred to so many innocent people. And through these doubts and fears that I entertained, I had lost sight of the true message of Easter.

For Easter is the foundation of our faith; it is not just an annual remembrance of Christ’s death and resurrection 2000 years ago, but a celebration of the REALITY of a Risen Lord who lives with us in our broken world. From the cross, Jesus shows that there is no pain He has not endured, no injustice that He has not felt, and no love that is greater than what He has for us. And from the cross, Jesus tells us that He is there to share with us in our sorrows, not from a distance, but from our very hearts; as it is He who lives in us.

In our distress, Jesus promises us His peace; one which He promised to the disciples even before his own death; “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled; do not let them be afraid” - John 14: 27.  And in our moments of disillusionment, He defines the basis of our hope clearly “In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!”- John 16:33.

So, despite the new unknown storm that is here this Easter Sunday, I have courage because I choose to trust in Jesus, who came into this messy world and died to make His love known. In my moments of fear and confusion, I have courage that Jesus will be there to console and guide me, as it is what He promised. And I have courage despite what next year’s Easter may hold, as Jesus’ resurrection reminds me that there is nothing He can not overcome, and reveals there is more to life than this world. 

On this special Easter Sunday, let us therefore celebrate, and remember that our faith in God is the light that shines through the darkness. Though we are separated from one another, we are united by our hope and joy of our Risen Christ. Let us not be fearful by what we do not know or what we cannot change, but trust that Jesus will be by our side, as He always has. And as with any storm of life, we can await the rainbow, the sign of God’s love and promise to us, that all will be well with Him.

Have a happy and blessed Easter!

Prayer intentions: 

Let us remember this Easter all those who have ssed away from the current Coronavirus pandemic we face, for families and friends who are grieving, and all those putting their lives at risk on the frontline. Let our faith be a sign of hope to others, and together, let us pray for an end to this pandemic.

A year on from the Easter Day attack in Sri Lanka, let us remember all those who died are now martyrs in heaven, and ask them to pray for us during this time. 

Let us pray for all Christians around the world who face persecution for proclaiming their faith, and for all those who struggle to believe in Christ because of the darkness of this world.

Good Friday: A guided mediation

By Greg Finn

Following on from yesterday's Holy Thursday meditation, here is one for today based on St. John's Passion narrative. Read slowly and ask the Holy Spirit to help guide you through the scenes. Try to immerse yourself in them. Consider what you can see, hear and touch. Try to be aware of how your heart is moved at each stage and, most importantly, try to focus on Jesus throughout. Ask yourself how his face appears. How does he move? How does he interact with you?  

Good Friday Meditation

The dawn sun sends a blinding spear of light into your eyes as you bolt through the city. Your heart hammers in your chest. You sprint through the sandy back alleys of Jerusalem. 

"They have taken him to the praetorium!" The words reverberate through your mind as you gasp for air.

You skid around a corner and there, rearing up before you, are the gates of the Roman fortress. The street here is a crowded hive of activity buzzing with a menacing energy. It is a melee of threatening faces, shoving hands and fierce shouts. Fear prickles down your spine but you press through the gates and into a heaving courtyard.

The tumultuous atmosphere outside is amplified within the tight confines of the praetorium. Bodies begin to crush against you. The mob surges and your feet are swept forward uncontrollably across the pavement slabs.

The area is enclosed on each side by large grey pillars and ahead of you are stone steps leading to the dark interior of the Procurators palace. Legionaries are stationed atop the stairs. Their eyes glare with suspicion across the scene, their shoulders tense as they grip their weapons tightly.

Below the steps you spy priests and elders of the temple. They are clothed in flowing white vestments and mutter to one another through clenched teeth.

The agitated hum of the crowd breaks suddenly into raucous cries. Curses are spat venomously from all around as clenched fists thrash the air. There you see him. Jesus comes into view at the top of the steps, dragged forward before the baying mob. His face is sickeningly swollen, blood is spattered across his clothing and his wrists are bound with a metal chain. Gradually he raises his eyes and you look into his bruised face. What do you see?

Standing beside Jesus is the Roman governor. He is adorned in armour and wears a steely expression. Pontius Pilate glowers down at the Jewish leaders with contemptuous loathing. He raises a hand and the yells around you subside.

“I find no basis for a charge against him." He cries "But it is your custom for me to release to you one prisoner at the time of the Passover. Do you want me to release ‘the king of the Jews’?”
Immediately voices everywhere shriek “Give us Barabbas!”

Jesus is dragged savagely out of sight. 

Another man emerges and is thrust down the stairs. With a bewildered glance behind, he disappears into the crowd.

Pilate's platform is empty once more. The sun has now risen and you begin to feel its harsh heat against your face. You notice some of the temple guards moving quietly between the people. A tension clenches your stomach and you hastily pull your outer garment over your head. You are not among friends here.

It seems as though hours pass before Jesus is brought out once more. His back is hunched now and deep red stripes can be seen rippling across his raw skin. A blood-sodden purple robe hangs about his shoulders. His face is unrecognisable. A mangle of thorns has been excruciatingly pressed into his forehead.

A blast of jeers and ridiculing shouts greet him. You look on. How do you feel when you see Jesus there?

The atmosphere has swiftly become ferocious and you hear deafening cries of "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Panic is exploding within you. As you shriek out for it to stop, a furious fist hits the side of your head and you plummet to the floor. By the time you have fought to your feet Jesus is nowhere to be seen.

Dazed, you scramble back out onto the streets. The wave of people is now careering away towards the city walls. Dread floods your veins. You franticly attempt to push through the droves but the mass of bodies is impassable. Up ahead, the lashing sound of a whip crackles through the air and there follows a clatter of wood on the ground.

You heave your way forward and pass through the walls of the city. Now you see him and pain slices through your heart.

Jesus hangs on a cross. Cruel nails pierce his hands and his feet, his body is limp and torn.

As you stagger forwards, soldiers cackle with one another and brazen taunts can be heard from those gathered around. Jesus remains silent, head bowed. 

You edge towards the foot of the cross and for the first time see some faces you recognise. There are friends who came to listen to Jesus speak in the Temple. Also, you notice women from Galilee. They stand motionless and clutching each other. One is down on her knees, her face low. Tears fall silently from her cheeks dampening the rocky ground. Jesus's mother weeps helplessly beneath her child.

A devilish chill is in the air. You look up as forbidding clouds sweep across the ashen sky. Your sorrowful gaze is then met by the eyes of another. Jesus looks down at you. How do you feel to have his eyes upon you now? 

The tormented wind begins to howl. The Roman soldiers anxiously stand and look towards the darkening firmament, but Jesus still has his eyes on you. He opens his lips and speaks to you. Listen now to what he has to say.

Jesus slowly looks away. He mouths "I thirst."  A jar of wine vinegar is by the cross, a Roman soaks a sponge in it, puts the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifts it to Jesus’s lips. Jesus then whispers, “It is finished.” With that, he bows his head and gives up his spirit.

Lord Jesus, thank you for dying for me on the cross. Thank you for loving me so completely. Help me to consider your sorrowful Passion this day. Allow it to strengthen me, build my faith and give me the courage to overcome trials in my own life. Let my love for you grow deeper. Amen  

Holy Thursday - a guided meditation

by Greg Finn

Here is a guided meditation based on the Gospel accounts of Holy Thursday. You can ask the Holy Spirit to guide you through the scenes. Try to immerse yourself in them, considering what you can see, hear, smell, taste and touch. Be aware of how your heart is moved at each stage and most importantly try to focus on Jesus throughout. Ask yourself how His face appears? How does He move? How does He interact with you?

“When darkness reigns”

A cool breeze sweeps in from the west, through an opening and into the upper room. The chill on your cheek snaps you from a swirl of bewildered thoughts bringing you back to full awareness. As you look out over the Hinnom Valley, the setting sun casts a rich copper glow across the lush slopes. What does this night hold?

Turning to the room, the oil lamps on the table cast flickering shadows. Jesus sits among your friends. His eyes are down, unmoving, his expression is hard to read. The others are hushed, some are casting nervous glances at one another. They have so many questions for Jesus but are too uneasy to ask.

Often the Teacher has spoken in ways difficult to decipher. Tonight it was as though every word he spoke was loaded with meaning just beyond the grasp of your understanding. Why had he spoken so vehemently of breaking his own body and of pouring out his blood? Why did he decline to drink from the Cup of Completion and leave the Passover ritual incomplete?

You remember that the bitter herbs tasted particularly acrid as Jesus had announced “One of you will betray me.”

Without consideration you blurted out “Is it I Lord?” and Jesus’ auburn eyes locked on yours for the briefest of moments, before he quickly looked away. What did you see in those eyes?
The room is still now as Judas hurries away and down the stairs. Where is he going? Jesus does not ask?

You re-join the table and without warning Jesus begins to pray and you join him in the traditional Psalms of praise. Jesus sings with a growing fervour. With closed eyes and raised hands he delivers the closing lines. You listen intently to his voice as he sings…

“You are my God, and I will praise you;

you are my God, and I will exalt you.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;

His love endures forever.”

Jesus then rises, descends the stairs and walks out into the darkness. You and the others scramble to your feet and follow. Your footsteps echo eerily on the stone as you pass through a shadowy gateway and into the lower city. You meet no one but hurrying through the twisting alleyways, the muffled strain of hymns can be heard behind barred doors.

You slip out of the city and down a dusty path into the depths of the Kidron Valley. The Holy Temple towers up to your left, dark and imposing. Suddenly Jesus turns and once more his eyes meet yours. “You will all fall away; for it is written ‘I will strike the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered.” How do you feel when Jesus says this to you?

Peter surges past you and drops at Jesus’ feet. “I will not fall away!” he cries.
A mournful smile spreads across Jesus’ face; he picks Peter up, embraces him and whispers in his ear. Peter’s shoulders slump and his head droops as Jesus once more turns and begins the ascent to the Mount of Olives. It is a walk you know well.

Near the summit Jesus stops. Some are told to wait at that spot but he beckons you and a few others onwards into a garden.

The air in the garden is thick with the aroma of olives and the clouded sky casts foreboding shadows among the gnarled tree trunks. Only the hum of chirping crickets penetrates the silence. Jesus begins to stagger. “Sit here while I pray.” he whispers and drifts deeper into the grove. You glance at your companions. What do you see in their faces now?

Half hidden in the gloom you see Jesus drop onto a large rock. His head plunges down upon it. You watch him silently but the night air has become bitingly cold. You sit and rest your back against an olive tree and wrap your cloak around yourself. You keep your eyes on Jesus as the moonlight breaks through and casts crooked shadows on the ground.

A hand touches your shoulder, you were sleeping. You look up into the face of Jesus. His brow glistens with sweat, his eyes swollen with tears and full of pain. It is the same expression you saw dash his face before the tomb of Lazarus. “Could you not watch one hour?” he sighs, “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” A tear slips down his cheek.

How does it feel to hear those words? Jesus reels away and returns to the same spot to pray. You shake your head and widen your eyes, determined to stay alert.

“Wake up! Why are you sleeping?” Jesus is over you once again, the same anguish in his eyes. He says no more but turns and heads away into the darkness. You listen as the crickets chirp on. An owl hoots slowly somewhere up above.

A hand grabs beneath your elbow and hauls you up. You stand beside Peter bleary-eyed. Jesus is facing you. “The hour has come, let us go, see my betrayer is here.”

Jesus’ voice has changed now. The steely calmness that you know so well has returned. He looks like the one who nobody dared to challenge in the temple, the one who drew a line in the sand, the one who left the teachers of the law unable to reply.

Jesus looks beyond you. You feel a change in the atmosphere. The hairs on your neck rise and your heartbeat quickens. Someone is coming through the trees. Torches blaze and you hear the chinking of steel.

Menacing figures begin to surround you on all sides. They are armed, snarling, and their eyes dart between you and your companions. One steps forward and the torchlight illuminates his face. It is Judas, how do you feel to see your friend here? What is he doing?

Judas approaches Jesus who stands statuesque. How is he so peaceful at a time like this? Judas kisses Jesus.

The armed men immediately lurch into action, their bounty marked. They are here for Jesus. How are beginning to feel now?

Your fists clench and you take a step forward. Peter hurtles past you but the gentlest of hands touches your wrist. It is Jesus beside you, the edges of his mouth curl into a smile as he shakes his head. He calls to Peter and you sense the faint clang of metal landing on rock, but your eyes are on Jesus’. For a moment, everything is still. Jesus’ eyes are ablaze and his smile remains. He nods gently to you, his hand still resting on your wrist.

A black bag is thrown over Jesus’ head. A shoulder thuds into your chest and you fly backwards onto the hard earth. Jesus is ripped from your view.

As you regain your senses you see the backs of the soldiers as they bolt away through the trees. Jesus has been taken. You sit in the dirt alone. The crickets chip on, the owl cries and the moon throws twisted shadows in the garden.

Lord Jesus, thank you for your passion and the way you accepted suffering because you knew it would bring me closer to you. Help me walk with you over these next few days and give me the grace to not leave you. Amen

Easter from home: Ways to prepare for a Triduum like no other

By Paddie Denton

As many of the memes are saying, the time when the “Lentist Lent we have ever Lented” is almost coming to an end. However - it's not coming to an end in the way so many of us will be used to. As the liturgical highpoint of the year, Easter is a celebration that after weeks of fasting, prayer and alms, we finally acclaim “Alle….” (well it ain't Sunday yet). It is a time of processions, music, incense, creme eggs for the kids (yes I do still take one), and ultimately – a community celebration of Jesus’ resurrection from death and salvation for us all.

So, in this time of isolation, it is natural to feel heartbroken by not being able to participate how we are used to or expected. To feel heartbroken for our priests who cannot celebrate or serve the way they were ordained to. For the candidates all over the country who were to be received into the Church family this Easter. The flower arrangers, musical directors, masters of ceremonies, and all the people who will have probably been planning this Easter weekend since Christmas.

Equally, many of us are going into the Easter Triduum feeling hurt, broken and afraid in the midst of COVID-19. We are confused and concerned about our families, friends and communities. It's okay to not know how it's going to be on the other side of this season (both Lent and pandemic). But truthfully, we are in good company.

Let’s go back to the very first Easter, when the whole of human history changed. When Jesus gave us the Eucharistic celebration at the Last super, was arrested, tortured, and crucified. Jesus's followers had no idea. They were shut inside hiding from what was outside (except Jesus' key workers!). They were heartbroken because they could no longer be with Jesus. All they had known for so long from their travels with Christ, their ‘normal’, was suddenly gone with next to no warning.

And it's not just the apostles who have lived in the unknown, or the fear of knowing the truth but being unable to proclaim Him. Around the world today, many of our brothers and sisters are persecuted and martyred for declaring Jesus as Lord and Saviour. For years, many have been unable to physically go to mass on Easter, like we are experiencing for the first time now.

So this Triduum presents us with a unique opportunity to, despite the distance, enter into the celebration, the liturgy and narrative in ways we wouldn't normally. First things first, work out when you are accessing the various celebrations online, and from where. With so much virtually available, we can celebrate from our own parishes live stream, or even jet set straight to mass with Pope Francis in St Peter’s Basilica!

As we begin the next few days, here is a reminder of the events that will follow, and ways to participate in the events to the full from your homes. 

Maunday Thursday - Feasts and Humility

The night we remember the Last Supper that Jesus shared with his the disciples. Food is such a integral part of our faith; the quiche at the parish parties, cake at first communion, dram of whiskey at a funeral. So it's no wonder that our Lord and Saviour loved food himself, and so often shared meals when He was with friends and teaching. And that doesn't stop now! In this Easter of isolation, why not drop off biscuits for the elderly, cook a meal for your house, or if you live alone; share a meal over a video conference!

There is another important part of the Thursday service that is one of my favourites;'The Washing of Feet'. A moment in scripture of pure humility; both of the King who washes the feet of His people, but also of the faithful servant who allows himself to be served too. Read John 13: 1-17, and think about how over this weekend can we serve? Can we call an elderly parishioner; help them work out mass streaming, listen to their worries, or say a rosary together? Or do we need to allow ourselves to be served? Are we currently ill and need to admit that we need rest and be cared for? Are we hurting, and need to allow people and Jesus in to provide comfort?

Ultimately this isolation being asked of us is a great act of humility, not just for our needs but the needs of those who are most vulnerable. Every time the feeling of isolation hits, take a moment to offer for healing and an increase in our humility.

Good Friday - Grief and Uncertainty

The only day of the year mass isn't normally celebrated; yet is the ongoing reality we are experiencing right now. Over these past two weeks, each time I have participated in Mass via live stream and made my spiritual communion, my heart longs to be back in church with my community and receive Jesus. But each time my heart breaks, Jesus steps in; and it heals stronger and is more filled with Him each time.

This Good Friday provides a unique chance to journey with the apostles, to experience a glimmer of their own experience. In the midst grief and uncertainty of what is next, the apostles too must have had these worries and questions spinning around in their heads from the moment Jesus was arrested. Their emotions of doubt and fear would have trapped them inside; as the outside world didn’t make sense.

On this day of solemnity, implement periods of silence, such as in the morning or at the 3pm Holy hour. Take down some pictures or wall art to create bare spaces. Fast not only from food but from other daily distractions, such as social media or music. Take part in the online service and reading of the Passion, and reflect what it would have been like in the crowd.

Contemplate the cross, and offer up the distance you may be feeling. Embrace it, who knew how much we longed for Jesus in the Eucharist? Who knew how much we loved Him? This love we are feeling out of heartbreak pales in comparison of the love of Jesus broken on the cross and His desire to be with us. Let it make our hearts and capacity for love grow.

Holy Saturday – Eagerly waiting and trust

The day after the events of the night before; a morning of reflection and an afternoon of anticipation for the vigil in the evening. 

I do have one very particular reading recommendation for you all. On Saturday in the office of readings (which you will find on the Universalis website), the second reading is from the wealth of Church tradition and is a writing called "the Harrowing of hell". It is a poem which describes and helps us visualise what Jesus was doing between death and resurrection when He descended into Hell defeating death, saving souls and rising again. It is beautiful and thought provoking, and is a reminder that even when we don't know what He is doing, and could feel like Jesus has left us, He has a plan and is busy saving us, which I know is what Christ is doing in these times.

Easter Vigil - Hope has Risen

The day we have all been waiting for, especially during this period of confusion – Christ’s winning of our salvation. And now it is finally here, we must do something radical. Live out HOPE in a time of crisis. Because Jesus IS risen. He HAS conquered death. And it's time for us to live that way.

Plan celebrations for yourself over the weekend. Read John 20: 1-9 and let the truth of Jesus’ triumph over death sink in. Indulge on eggs, wear a bonnet, declare Alleluia (oops said it that time). Make time for people (phone calls/FaceTime) so you can rejoice together and remember that we are all united as God’s children. No matter where you are and who you are separated from, allow this year’s experience of Easter to prepare and fill you to serve our communities with prayer, acts of service and love in this season.

“May we not be concerned with what we lack but with what good we can do for others”. - Pope Francis at World Youth Day 2020 (Palm Sunday)

Finding Solid Ground in Turbulent Times

by Simeon Elderfield

Three weeks ago, I was sitting in a conference room in the House of Lords, listening to the Chief Operating Officer of Premier, the parent company of Premier Christian Radio. He was telling a room full of people from a wide variety of Christian churches, what Premier’s long-term strategy was to equip the Christian Church in continuing to do it’s work in the Digital sphere. I went as part of the Diocese of Westminster’s team, to listen and work out how we can work with their vision, transforming the church into something which evangelises effectively in all areas.

Since that meeting in the House of Lords, I have learned that God moves quickly when he wants to. In such a short space of time, Masses are streamed, resources are being produced, and Cardinal Vincent was on Sunday Breakfast hinting heavily that the BBC should consider live streaming the Easter celebrations. Even Westminster Cathedral is getting cameras permanently installed so that Mass and other liturgies can be broadcast. A new status quo is coming into play.

At times over the past week, watching the Church come to terms with where it’s at, it has been emotional. I remember talking with one priest who openly admitted he cried at the consecration of his last public Mass. With the schools closing and no clear timeframe as to when restrictions will be lifted, there is an existential question hanging over the heads of those employed by diocesan curia.

I work within that system, in the communications team and it is at these times that doing my job well becomes critical. We become a conduit through which information flows, making sure any messages we put out don’t add to the confusion. We must be strategic and sensitive, not just to the people we serve, but also the trends and chatter of the wider world. Ours is not to police content, but to communicate the messages which need to be heard.

What has struck me over the past two weeks is how the institution of the church, frequently labelled immovable, has moved swiftly to ensure the message is clear and the content is sound. In a crisis, the organisation has responded, and that is a credit to every lay person and member of the clergy working there.

But then, we forget that change is often not as gradual as it seems. Rather evolution on a wider scale is triggered by short sharp shocks. A meteorite, a revolution, a war, a disease. Rapid change in short time.

It seems fair to say that we are currently living through a paradigm shift. On the side of society, you need only hear that a Conservative government seriously floated the idea of a universal basic income to realise how far we’ve come. But on the side of the Church, more than ever it is challenged to go out to the margins and meet the isolated, so that those who feel lost can find home. Especially as it embraces the digital world, so many new avenues have opened and the end of the road we are started on could truly be a more engaged church, unified around a single purpose.

We are forced to engage in our faith in a way which isn’t simply just turning up for a Mass on Sunday. The things we took for granted are no more, and that can only challenge us to mature into a deeper relationship with God. This was expanded upon by Pope Francis in his Urbi et Orbi address which was around the passage in the Gospel of Mark where Jesus calms the storms. The storm, said the pope, exposes ‘our vulnerability and uncovers those false and superfluous certainties around which we have constructed our daily schedules'.

The disciples urge Jesus to act, accusing him of not caring. On the contrary, Jesus slept knowing that God cared so much, no matter the outcome, they would be safe. In death and in life, they could be confident of the love of God.

The adage says we don’t know what we miss till it’s gone. On Sunday, I watched and participated in my first live-streamed Mass and that saying rang true. It was quite something to sit there on my couch, watching my television. It seemed strange that the divine had entered what seemed so ordinary, but then, I shouldn’t be surprised. God has form in this regard.

For myself, taking this as an opportunity to read the Bible, pray the Office of Readings, and give God my times of silence: these are the ways I am using to deepen my relationship with God. I commend them to you whole heartedly as valuable methods of processing what we are going through, rooted in tradition. Aptly, as we enter a time of even stricter isolation, the words which most touched my heart recently come from Cardinal Vincent, in his video after the news broke that public acts of worship would be suspended. I hope we bear them in mind over the coming days: 

‘Please, don’t lose heart. Please, get deeper rooted. When a plant is deprived of some surface water, it has to put down deeper roots. We are going to have to put down deeper roots of the Spirit and we know that God will nurture us.’

Images used within this blog: © Mazur/cbcew.org.uk