Easter and the Pope's Death

This has been a very strange Easter. Indeed, a very strange Lent/Holy Week season as a whole, at least for me personally. In fact, I am inclined to quote Mr. Beaver when Lucy asks what has become of Aslan when he disappears without saying goodbye after their coronation in Narnia, "One moment you will see him, and another you won't...For after all, Aslan is not a tame lion."

That quote more or less sums up my journey to and through Easter. I have to admit, I was spiritually struggling a bit for most of Lent. It was not quite a season of spiritual desolation like is talked about in Jesuit theology. It was more of a Jimmy Carter style malaise. I could not seem to break into the spirit of the season. I just really wanted nothing to do with Lent this year, and I have no idea why exactly. It was not laziness nor barrenness nor some sort of spiritual attack. It was just like sometimes when Christmas rolls around and you just don't really want to put up a tree or do any of that hoopla. You just completely are not in the Christmas spirit. Every time any thing Lent rolled around, I just wanted to say a hearty Scrooge-esque Lenten "Anyone who goes around with a Blessed Lent on their lips should be fried in their own fish fry!"

I know that seems a very grumpy thing to write, and I feel bad about writing it on one level. Yet, that was largely where I was at for the whole of Lent. I gave up stuff and went through the motions as best I could, but I admit that my heart was not in it this year. Many a time I would sit down to say Morning Prayer, and I would just stare at my prayer book or screen (if I was praying the Offices on my phone) for like 15 minutes and finally just give up.

I have no idea what to make of that experience. I think I hit rock bottom the weekend of Palm Sunday. I had to be one of the readers for the dramatic reading of the Passion at one of the Masses that weekend. I think the Saturday before, I was really in the dumps for various reasons. I did not want to go to church that Palm Sunday, much less be a lector at Mass. Even walking up to the lectern to reading, I just felt defeated and worn out. I can't say I have ever felt that way about reading the Bible for Mass. That is usually one of my favorite things to do in any liturgy.

One would think having just been to the Holy Land and seen these amazing places in the last 2 or so months, I would have been rip roaring to go for Palm Sunday and Holy Week, but that was largely not the case. The malaise hit, and it was not really until the Easter vigil that I think I finally snapped out of it at least a bit. I did have to lector again for several of the readings, and I got to reach the marvelous creation story from Genesis. There are very few passages in the Bible that are as much fun to orally narrate as that one..."Evening came, and morning followed, the third day..." Just marvelous. 

And then came this morning, Easter Monday. I awoke and wandered downstairs. My wife said, "Happy birthday...and the Pope died." At first, I thought she was making a strange joke, which is unlike her, but she was just stating the facts. Seems a bit odd for the Pope to die on my birthday, not that my birthday had any bearing on anything to do with the Pope of course. But it did seem a strange capper to my strange Lenten malaise. 

I ask you to pray for the repose of the soul of +Pope Francis, and I wish to remind everyone that God is still in control. What will play out in the coming weeks will no doubt be a time of sadness and mourning but also a time of angst about what happens next.

Hear the words of St. John Paul II during his first homily during his inauguration Mass after getting elected Pope:

“Do not be afraid. Open, I say open wide the doors for Christ.”

 

Do Not Be Afraid.
God is still there, and Christ is still risen.
We will get through this, and God's will will ultimately be done.