Meditation for Palm Sunday: I Crucified Him by MY Sins!

We hailed you on Palm Sunday, O Lord, and then screamed
 "Crucify him!" five days later. Forgive us, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.

In many ways I hate reading the passion on Palm Sunday. Not because it's long and I get tired of standing. No, not that, but the stark reminder that MY sins, MY wickedness, caused the Lord I know and love to die a horrifying death.

He suffered His agony in the garden for MY sins. He underwent the cruel trial for MY sins. He fell under the weight of the cross for MY sins. It was MY sins that were reflected in the mocking, the scourging, and the crowning with thorns. It was MY sins that hammered the nails into His hands and feet and drove the spear into His side. Father, forgive me; I didn't know what I was doing.

Like Amazing Grace says, I once was lost, but now am found. Why? Because He saved a wretch like Me. Help me, Lord, this Holy Week, to come face to face with all my past sins. I deserve eternal damnation, but by Your stripes I'm healed. I repent of all my sins and ask that you help me to never sin against you again. My sins make me want to hide, like Adam and Eve in the garden.

Lenten Meditation: The Prodigal Son -- Who are you in the story?

Prodigal Son by Murillo

Today's gospel reading is Jesus relating the parable of the prodigal son.

I have a confession to make. Whenever I read that story, I can't help sympathizing with (and relating to?) the older brother. His part of the story begins with the fact that he "was coming in from the fields." That tells me he was out working. Of course, he's working for himself as well as for his father because one day all the property remaining will be his. The younger son already got his share. At least, that's what the story says. But maybe the older son thinks all that will change. Now that his younger brother is back will Dad not only kill the fatted calf, but give half the herd to his brother? Will he change his mind and write younger brother back into the will? What exactly was going on in the mind of the older son? We only know from his actions that he resented what his father did in welcoming back his sibling.

Lenten Meditation: Remember, man, that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return!

We prayed our rosary today in an old cemetery. There were so many graves of little children from the 19th century: a brother and sister who were a toddler and a newborn, a teenage girl and her 9-year-old brother who drowned, the grave of a little one who died after a few days with the gravestone message, "Budded on earth, bloomed in heaven."

We saw at least a dozen graves of confederate soldiers and sailors some who clearly died in the war and others who lived to tell about it. There were graves of men and women taken in the prime of life and two graves of women who were nearly 100 when they died. They were the exception.

We prayed our usual intentions for family and friends both living and dead and for all those buried in the cemetery as well. Walking through a cemetery is a sobering experience. Nothing is guaranteed: not tomorrow, not next week, not the next minute. As Fr. James Buckley reminds retreatants during his Ignatian retreats, he once saw a gravestone in an English cemetery that read, "What you are I once was, what I am you will be." There is nothing more certain than death and judgment.

Each of us would do well to reflect on death, especially during Lent. The Church urges us to think often about the four last things: death, judgment, heaven or hell. There are saints who made their examination of conscience at the end of the day imagining themselves in hell and asking, "What did you do today, poor soul, to land you in this evil place?" Not a bad idea for people who don't want to go there.

Remember, man, that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return.