Last week of Lent: Sunday reflection

We got up early and went to Vashon Island, to see Michael's lambs. As I understand it, he became a shephard by accident, starting with one lamb but now has several. They are lovely creatures, set on a beautiful farm in the middle of the island. The mothers are fascinating to watch, as they constantly herd the little ones away from the strange creatures [three humans trying to feed them]. Eventually one of the little lambs came to the fence and ate grass from our hands, nibbled on our fingers.

The voice [bahhhhhhh] of the little lambs is primitive, like a universal wail of an innocent soul. How could Our Father not hear this voice, in any place, any context? There is a connection to this past Friday's sister parish [Chiapas] gathering, where Jeannie talked about the lost sheep. Wherever we go, we can be heard, and found.

Tonite's Palm Sunday mass included a dramatic version of the Passion of Christ. Even in this abstract form, it's difficult for me to watch, and absorb it's full intensity. There is pain at the deepest level, to imagine the great goodbye between Christ and His immediate community. He knew what lay ahead, they perhaps did not but would eventually become fully aware of the dawn of His ministry. Until then, oh what sadness must have overcome them to witness the steps leading to the dawn.

As a greater, extended family we have suffered deeply the past few years. We have felt loss, we have felt troubles in many forms. We may have even strayed from the herd, unable to grasp the meaning of it all. No matter where we go, there is always a path back to the Good Shephard. One of my enduring prayers is that we come closer together, to be one family seeking the truth about our suffering. We all suffer, we all grow weary from the weigth of our daily chores. Let us be one in this journey, to turn the grey into bright vivid colors of love and beauty.

con paz,
frank