As I sit to write these few thoughts, the words of David Haas' "Now It Is Evening" are going through my head -- "Now it is evening, lights in the city bid us remember, Christ is our Light ..."
Yesterday, as I dealt with clearing out after Friday's messy weather, I was struck by the juxtaposition of the St. Patrick's Day celebrations and the commemorations of the fourth anniversary of the war in Iraq. I was struggling for thoughts to bring together the complexity of the world events of this weekend with the Fourth Sunday of Lent. Trying to synthesize those, I was thinking ahead to today's Gospel reading (which for us was from Cycle A because we have catechumens/elect among our community) -- the story of the blind man healed by Jesus. In Haas' lyrics, by no coincidence, is found the focus:
Christ is our Light!
In the midst of the darkness of the sorrows and struggles of life around us, Christ's light remains as a guidepost, as a comfort, as a sure and certain side that Jesus is with us. In the darkness of a world at war with one another and itself, we are called -- challenged -- to reflect Christ's light. Sometimes because of our human frailties and failings, the light may seem to flicker, but Lent calls us to fan the flame of Christ's light and penetrate the dark night one small flame at a time, recognizing that all of us together can illuminate the world with Christ-Light.
As this fourth Sunday of Lent -- Laetare -- draws to a closer, the invitation to reflect Christ's light renews itself and the question "How am I doing at how am I being?" continues to resonate for me.
Jesus, you came to bring light to a world yearning for you.
Enable us through our Lenten journey
to be healed of all that blinds us
and prevents us from reflecting Your Light
in all its brillance,