Year of Mercy, reflections and hope

one of the sweet women we visited on our travels through cuba
one of the sweet women we visited on our travels through Cuba

I started the Year of Mercy by attending a funeral. One often hears how funerals are for the living. There’s some truth to that — there’s grace in the consoling outpouring of love at this time — but funerals are also for the deceased. We pray for their souls — hopeful of their entry in heaven. It is a Corporal Work of Mercy.

I don’t think we pay enough attention to Works of Mercy. My eyes were opened to this recently in a very intimate way.

Works of Mercy
Works of Mercy

I’ve been anticipating the Year of Mercy since I returned from Cuba in late September. In fact, while I was in Cuba, I became aware that my trip home was a pilgrimage of mercy on many levels. That was the tag line for the Pope’s apostolic visit, but I didn’t realize I would live it so beautifully!

The first several days were spent in pilgrimage-mode. We attended Masses, including the Mass celebrated by Pope Francis in Holguin. Every meeting, every visit, each gathering had elements of the spiritual works. Homilies and public discourse included charitable catechesis — teaching about the faith, about Jesus Christ. The public talk was about forgiveness, and there were a few times when the Truth was spoken quite clearly. I watched, an observer, recognizing the example of the spiritual works of mercy as they continually played out before me.

Then as the Pope’s visit ended, we began a second kind of journey, more personal, definitely private, as we began a trek toward Havana, stopping at the homes of family and friends. This was the piece that brought me great peace. We visited the tomb of my grandparents and prayed there for them and others. We visited the sick. We visited shut-ins. We loved, abundantly and unconditionally.

I had a fundamental shift in the way I see the Works of Mercy. For all the outpouring that I initiated, I received double in return. I was visited. I was loved. I was fed. I was instructed.

I was corrected.

It was humbling. And merciful.

As I reflect on that now, entering into these first days of the Year of Mercy, I am encouraged to seek a deeper relationship with Christ.

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

oh boy, Lent is soooo much work

It’s just plain easier to be a sinner. It ends rather poorly, so I’m motivated to make some life-changing…um, changes. It’s not easy, but I need to start somewhere, and the Corporal Works of Mercy seem a good fit for me this year.

There’s a lot to be said for getting ideas for Lent from the internet pit stops I make throughout my day. It’s like a giant spiritual smorgasbord, and I get to fill my plate with the tastiest looking, yummiest selections.

I’m happy to read these posts and make plans for implementing new practices on Ash Wednesday. Yet, I have to honestly ask myself why I need to wait until Ash Wednesday, or more precisely, why I think I should set a particular date to begin working on my redemption.

It’s like New Year’s resolutions. If I wait until January to start a diet, am I going to eat cheesecake every day for the next ten months?

Sounds sinfully appealing.

In today’s busy world, where we are pulled by our responsibilities to family, work, friends, and all the extra things we find piled on our plates, it’s probably not a bad idea to prayerfully discern a particular course for Lent. Why not get ideas from people who’ve managed to make it work, or managed to articulate it in a manner we can comprehend and apply.

So I give you my own idea. I hope you go read about it here.

Pat Gohn invited me to guest post at her column, A Word in Season, at the Catholic Portal at Patheos.com. Check out Pat’s work and all the other great writers at the Catholic Portal.

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