coronavirus – Frassati Reflections

A Light in Dark Places

In the first reading, 1 Kings 7-16, Elijah tells the widow, “Do not be afraid. Go and do as you propose. But first make me a little cake and bring it to me. Then you can prepare something for yourself and your son.” Elijah was giving instructions to this widow who God intended to provide for him. When Elijah asked for food and water, the widow was terrified. She did not even have enough food for herself and her son, let alone Elijah. Despite this fear, however, she followed Elijah’s instructions. As a result, from then on, her jug of oil never ran dry and she never ran out of flour in her jar.

Keeping faith in the Lord is hard when what He tells you doesn’t make sense. In these current times, faith in the Lord is difficult to maintain. There are many people who can empathize with the widow when she was faced with Elijah’s request. The widow even told Elijah that she and her son were going to die; she had lost all hope. The trials of our world today give rise to increasing hopelessness each day, and not being able to receive the holy sacraments in our churches has not made it easier for any of us to hear the Lord’s voice and to follow His will. Now is the time to conquer this fear. “Do not be afraid,” Elijah said. Sometimes all we need to hear is this phrase, even if we have no idea what is going to happen. The reassurance of these words renews our desire to live and carry on.

The Gospel reading asks us to take this desire a step further: not only are we to lose our fear; we are called to be examples to others who are afraid. When conditions in our lives seem to be at their worst, we must reveal our faith to the world and to be a light in its darkness. Jesus said, “your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father” (Matthew 5:16). Over the past few months, this world has been cast into darkness and people are falling victim to fear. When fear is so dominant, it can be challenging to rise above despair, but we have our faith and we can trust in it. We can be the change necessary to shine light in the darkness.

“Follow Me”: Being Led Where We Do Not Want to Go

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us”
J.R.R. Tolkien – The Fellowship of The Ring

As I consider the sadness and struggles of this pandemic time, I can identify with Frodo’s sentiment. Three months ago, I truly couldn’t have fathomed a world where friends didn’t gather, people couldn’t go in to work, children didn’t attend school in person, and families stayed home… where shops, restaurants, and theaters were dark… where hugs had to become air hugs from 6 feet apart. The tragic reality of illness has shaken the social and emotional fabric at the core of humanity.

As much as I identify with Frodo, I find equal inspiration and encouragement in Gandalf’s response. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us (Tolkien). We have received everything from an all-powerful, loving, and merciful Creator. Everything we have and everything we are has been bestowed on us by God. Our very creation is a gift from Him that we have received. So also, we have received from Him our identity and our mission. Our identity in Him, our relationship with our Heavenly Father is the core from which all else flows. And He has created you and me for a purpose, for a mission. We don’t get to choose the time in which we live, but we can choose to receive our mission from God, the one who chose to create us in this specific earthly time and place. Frodo may not have initially loved receiving the mission he was given, but he chose to receive it. He chose to move forward each and every day of the adventure, saying yes to the mission he was given.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus’ words echo a similar sentiment:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger,
you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted;
but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will dress you
and lead you where you do not want to go.”

God has created each of us in this specific time for a specific purpose and mission. It seems He is giving us an opportunity to mature in our faith… Jesus associates maturity with greater surrender and selflessness, a disposition of being led rather than leading oneself. The Gospel tells us Jesus says this signifying His death and how it will glorify God. It is not a sin to be upset, hesitant, or genuinely wish God had not put us where we are. We also know we are limited in our humanity. We cannot see the bigger picture. And Jesus, the Son of God, received the greatest mission of all. His receptivity and acceptance of his mission restored all of creation to its Creator.

We all have a part to play in the story of salvation. Our piece of the puzzle is here and now. We can partake in the ongoing movement of humanity toward God. We may wish that a pandemic “need not have happened” in our time. But we know who our God is. We know He is good. We know He gave His only Son for our salvation, and we know that by Christ’s death, suffering has become redemptive.

So knowing these truths, we must ask God for the grace to be grateful that we are living in such a time as this. For we know He has created each of us and gifted us life in this time for a purpose and for an ultimate good. We must decide “what to do with the time that is given us.”

Christ’s words from the Gospel that I mentioned above were to signify “by what kind of death he would glorify God.” Christ willingly received His mission from the Father out of a heart of love. So too, we can ask the Holy Spirit to help us receive our mission and decide what to do with the time given us by God from a posture of love for our good Father. From where we stand, it may not look appealing, comfortable, safe or sane, but when the Father calls us out of the boat He is our security and He will not forsake us. The Gospel passage concludes: “And when he had said this, he said to him, ‘Follow me.'”

Let us decide what to do with the time we are given. Let us follow Him.

The Time Has Come

“They strengthened the spirits of the disciples and exhorted them to persevere in the faith, saying, ‘It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the Kingdom of God.'”
—Acts 14:22

After several weeks, it appears that the restrictions imposed on us due to COVID-19 are coming to an end. Now we are faced with difficult questions as to what life after quarantine will be like. Can we really go back to the way things were before this pandemic? For many people, there is a sincere desire to return to those ways because they were comfortable and familiar. However, as stated in this passage from the Acts of the Apostles, it is necessary to go through hardships in order to enter the kingdom of Heaven.

In the Gospel reading, Jesus tells His disciples that He will be leaving them but that they should not be afraid. He called them to go and spread the good news. In much the same way, we are now being called to the same mission. We will be released from isolation to go back into the world, which will no doubt be filled with great fear. We will be faced with new trials and uncertain approaches to interact with our communities. There will also be a powerful opportunity to show the world how mighty our Lord is. “The world must know that I love the Father and that I do just as the Father has commanded me” (John 14:31). The Lord has given us a chance to revitalize this world, and thanks to our time in isolation, we are equipped with the armor of God. The harvest is more plentiful than ever, and God needs more laborers! The world does not need to be convinced of our faith but to truly witness our faith. Through our example of hope, others will see the face of God and believe.

Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy

By Jacqueline Casquero

The first week when my Catholic school shut down, I was in complete shock. I couldn’t believe the changes that were happening. I felt that I had no control over the situation. I couldn’t go to work, as I was told to stay home except to buy from the supermarket and the pharmacy. The churches were closed, and my favorite place where I volunteered for severely disabled children was shut down. I couldn’t meet in person with my family and friends.

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. I was looking at a place of darkness but thought there must be light. Like the saying goes, “There is light in the end of the tunnel.” When I contemplate the coronation of Our Lady while praying the rosary, I tend to think she will step upon the coronavirus as she did with the serpent, who brought death and sin.

To thee do do we cry, poor banished children of Eve, to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. I was in tears when I heard about the severe shortage of hospital supplies such as masks, gloves, PPE, and ventilators. How many lives were at stake? The rising numbers of positive cases and deaths came upon my screen. How much I cried.

Turn then, O most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary! When my mother and I finished the decade of the rosary, I started to really feel and understand the Hail, Holy Queen prayer. I was definitely feeling in exile, mourning over so my losses such as the lives lost, the jobs lost, our daily lives changed, but in the midst of this tornado I felt a sense of hope. Maria is our star in the sky when our ship has lost its way in the shaky waves of the ocean in the midst of the storm. Our Lady is that bright star in the right direction, and our hope. She comes to us with our Savior to redeem the world.

Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God,
that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Why Are We Weeping?

The Gospel for today highlights a beautiful and candid moment shared between Mary Magdalene and Jesus. It is a story we have read over and over again, and though we know the meaning of it by heart, the feeling and emotion the passage evokes in us may feel slightly different this year. As I read it, I found my eyes filled with tears. My feelings of joy welled up in me as I read of the excitement in Mary Magdalene as she recognized her Lord standing in front of her. Our Savior had risen and conquered the grave.

Jesus spoke these sweet words: “Why are you weeping?”

I think these soft and comforting words can be posed to every one of us by Jesus this Easter Sunday. Throughout this Lenten season, we have been plagued by a pandemic. We have fasted, we have prayed unceasingly, we have truly suffered and learned what it really is like to be without the Body and Blood of Christ. We are all weeping while growing weary in these times of uncertainty. We were not even able to celebrate Easter with our family in Christ. We have lost all hope, just as Mary Magdalene did when she discovered her Lord was not in the tomb.

But there is hope, a great and deep hope. Our Lord has risen from the dead and He has saved us. I can see, clear as day, Jesus coming to each one of us this Easter season, looking deep into our eyes and hearts, asking us “why are you weeping?” In true anguish, we fall into Him because we have grown tired of this burden we carry. He takes this burden away because He is our Savior. I believe this Easter season is bringing new hope to us. This pandemic will come to an end because Jesus Christ already conquered it on the cross two thousand years ago. We have a responsibility just like Mary Magdalene’s—we need to go and proclaim the good news. Our Lord is alive! There is no need to fear any more!

Veronica

In the Stations of the Cross, I’ve always felt a kind of sympathy for Simon of Cyrene. He didn’t sign up to bear the heavy cross, to enter into the horror of the Passion, to walk alongside a stranger experiencing the worst day of His life. He just happened to be standing there, minding his own business. But when the duty was pressed upon him, Simon responded. He put aside his own reservations to serve Jesus in His moment of need, and in doing so, he fulfilled a most sacred role. I have always felt an affinity for Simon’s reluctant heroism. However, this year, I have found myself drawn more toward Veronica.

Veronica had no such compulsions to step out into the brutality and chaos of Jerusalem’s streets that fateful day; she could very well have stayed in her home and closed the curtains, turning away from this scene of unimaginable suffering and sorrow. After all, it was not as though she could really do anything about this situation anyway, right? She looked out and saw the innocent Jesus in deep agony, bound for His death. She was helpless to change His course from Calvary; the crucifixion was inevitable. Approaching the suffering Jesus would only cause her pain, would it not? It certainly wouldn’t change the fact that Jesus was going to die; it would only increase her sorrows to stand witness to it.

And yet, Veronica stepped out toward Jesus. She volunteered to place herself in all the agony of that hour just to give Jesus what little she could: a small moment of comfort, a gesture of kindness, an affirmation of His dignity. She took her own veil and used it to wipe away the blood and sweat on His Holy Face. She looked into His eyes and offered a brief moment of companionship during His suffering. “I see You,” she might have said, “and I am not looking away.” After this interaction, the image of Jesus’s Holy Face was miraculously imprinted on Veronica’s veil: she went forth carrying the image of Christ to the world.

The name Veronica is derived from the Latin vera icon, meaning “true image.” She is called Veronica because of the role that she played during the Passion. We don’t know what Veronica’s “real” name was, but it doesn’t actually matter. Her truest identity is Veronica, true icon of Christ. In that moment on the road to Calvary, she didn’t just receive the image of Christ; she became the image of Christ. Her very person was forever changed by meeting Jesus and offering Him the simple gift of her presence.

In these strange and unsettling days of pandemic, we may find ourselves looking inward, becoming consumed by our own individual fears and anxieties. But if we are too self-occupied, we may miss the opportunity to reach out to another who would be comforted by our presence. Now, I’m not suggesting that we defy quarantine orders to step outside like Veronica did. But there are many ways that we can look outward toward the needs of others during this time. Like in the case of Veronica, we might be tempted to discouragement because we can’t fix this terrible situation. For instance, we might know someone who is painfully lonely and isolated, but we can’t actually change the fact that they will not be able to leave their home or receive any visitors for the foreseeable future. We can’t offer any solutions. But we can offer our emotional presence, if not our physical presence: we can let them know we’re thinking of them; we can send a thoughtful card or gift; we can call them to chat; we can invite them to online community prayer. These gestures might seem small, but like the Face of Jesus on Veronica’s veil, they can leave a deep impression.

Most of us will receive no compulsory demand to walk alongside someone in this crisis and help them carry their cross. And unless we strive to imitate Veronica—being attentive to the needs of others instead of closing in upon ourselves—we will miss our chance. As we walk the way of Calvary this Good Friday, let us not be ruled by our fears but instead be led by compassion, offering our kindness in the face of great trial.

—
1. Mattia Preti, Saint Veronica with the Veil / PD-US
2. Antonio Arias Fernández, Cristo con la Cruz a cuestas, encuentra a la Verónica / PD-US
3. Carlo Caliari, Jesus Meeting Veronica / PD-US

Hope, O My Soul

Hope is the “sure and steadfast anchor of the soul . . . that enters . . . where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf.” (CCC 1820)

Today is my mom’s birthday, which is fitting since I felt called to write on a virtue I have learned from and observed in her: Hope. My mom radiates a steadfast love for the Lord. She possesses an enduring faith. In my own lifetime, I’ve seen her place her trust in the Lord time and time again, a virtue that had been growing in her years before I was born. My mom has experienced trials and tragedy beginning in her childhood that would make many question God – yet her trust in and love for Him is what has defined her life. She has truly placed her hope in the Lord and she knows He is faithful to His promises. As Hebrews 10:23 says, “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.”

Right now, the world at large is in need of hope. What does is mean to have hope? It is important for us to remember that hope is something we can grow to attain, that we can come to possess. As Catholics, we understand that Hope is a virtue. It is one of the three theological virtues – faith, hope, and charity – meaning it relates us directly to God and disposes us to live in relationship with the Holy Trinity (Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 1812). Hope is rooted in God.

Through the eyes of faith, we see that Hope is the response to the desire for happiness that God has placed in the heart of humankind (CCC 1818). Our desire for happiness is good; our longing to have something to hope for has been placed within us by God Himself. And what is it we hope for? “In every circumstance, each one of us should hope, with the grace of God, to persevere ‘to the end’ and to obtain the joy of heaven” (CCC 1821, emphasis added).

Are you personally finding it difficult to have hope right now? If you are, you are not alone, and God wants to meet you there and grow this virtue in you. If you do have hope, praise the Lord, and let’s keep going! I know there is plenty of room for all of us to grow deeper in this beautiful virtue. And the world needs it.

The first step is re-establishing our faith in Jesus Christ and our trust in God’s promises. The Catechism gives us a simple, practical, yet profound way to both “express” our Hope and “nourish” it so it may grow: prayer. And specifically, praying the Our Father, “the summary of everything that hope leads us to desire” (CCC 1820).

So today, I ask you to join me in praying the Our Father, specifically asking the Lord to increase Hope in each of us. I encourage you to pray it slowly, pausing after each line, to allow the Truth to sink in and to profess it whole-heartedly to our Father in Heaven. This is an act of faith that will serve to remind us of the truth, the truth in which our hope is grounded. I also encourage you to call to mind Scriptures that you lean on in times of trial. Dwell on these truths to nourish your hope. I will list some Scriptures below that have been nourishing my soul lately:

Joshua 1:9 – “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

Philippians 4:6-7 — Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

John 16:33 — These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”

We must stay grounded in God’s truth. He is faithful to His promises. This will be the source of our Hope.

My friends, it is a blessing to be united in prayer with you in the midst of this difficult time. I am praying for each one of you – that the Lord is especially close to you and that you are drawing near to Him. I encourage you to take a minute now to thoughtfully pray the Our Father. …and can I ask a favor? Can you lift up my mom on her birthday — the woman who first taught me what hope looks like? I know she will appreciate that gift! Lifting up you and your intentions, my friends. May God be with you.

Hope, O my soul, hope. You know neither the day nor the hour. Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one. Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end.
St. Theresa of Avila, Excl. 15:3

The Land of Not Yet

One day when my friend Heidi’s son Nicholas was just two years old, he was playing in the next room with his baby sister. Suddenly little Theresa started to cry. Their grandfather called out to Nicholas, “Nicholas, are you hurting your sister?”

An honest little voice piped back, “Not yet…!”

Even at two, Nicholas understood that there was a measure of inevitability in the words “not yet.”

And yet so often as adults, when God seems to say, “not yet,” we translate that as “no” and throw toddler-like tantrums of despair. We take for granted the inevitability of bad things, but waver when it comes to good things. As the pandemic of fear spreads across the country and doomsday predictions increase, we are invited to remember the inevitability of God’s goodness, the fulfillment of all His promises.

In today’s First Reading, Abram is shown the Promised Land, but is invited to take up residence in a land of Not Yet.

He is told that he will be the father of many nations (this is repeated, multiple times), but at the moment he is the father of none, not even of one son. In fact, he will have to wait twenty-six years for Isaac! He is shown a land that will be the permanent possession of his descendants, but it is the land of Canaan. He is told that an everlasting blessing will come through him, but his life in the subsequent chapters of Genesis doesn’t show, externally, a lot of blessing. This blessing will come after hundreds of years, in Jesus.

The New Testament speaks of Abraham as “our father in faith.” Faith, Hebrews 11:1 tells us, “is the assurance of things hoped for, the substance of things unseen.”

Abraham is our father in faith because he moves through a land of promises; he lives with trust in the One who makes, and keeps, His Promises.

Abraham does not do this perfectly. In fact, after some years, he seems to doubt God’s timing, when the promised son has not materialized. He tries to speed up the promise by conceiving a child, not with his wife, but with her servant Hagar.

But even so God renews His covenant with Abraham, renews His promise for a son. Isaac is the son born of Sarah, although both she and Abraham are advanced in years.

And then God asks Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.

We cannot imagine what was going on in the heart of Abraham at that moment. What kind of a father would comply with such a command? Only one who knew the heart of his Father. He knew that God was good, that He would in some way bring good from whatever might look like disaster.

God blessed Abraham’s trust in His heart. He revealed for all time that it was not in fact His desire that we sacrifice the blood of other humans to show our love for Him. Indeed, in Jesus He would sacrifice His own blood to show His love for us.

Hebrews 11 continues:

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, without knowing where he was going. By faith he dwelt in the promised land as a stranger in a foreign country. He lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. (Hebrews 11: 8-10)

Abraham lives in the Promised Land before it is realized externally. He is able to do this because he lives in the heart of God, lives in trust of the Promise.

This living in the land of promise, the land of Not Yet, will continue for the descendants of Abraham for centuries. Much of the Old Testament involves the seeking of this land, fighting for it, claiming it, only to be exiled from it, to return, only to be exiled again, to return, only to be living under foreign occupation.

When Jesus comes, the people are living in the Promised Land, but they are under enemy occupation. They expect the Messiah to free them.

Instead He shows them that He is the Promised Land. We know Jesus is the only Son, we know He is the descendant through which everlasting blessing will come. Do we also realize that He is the Promised Land?

This promised land is more than a real estate acquisition. It, He, is the place of providence and protection, the place for God’s family to live together in love.

Jesus Christ Has Won. Love Has Won.

Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry come to you.
O Lord, hear my prayer,
And let my cry come to you.
Hide not your face from me
In the day of my distress.
Incline your ear to me;
In the day when I call, answer me speedily.
—Psalm 102:2–3

The responsorial psalm for today is piercing through my soul. Due to the current COVID-19 crisis in the world, how many of us are crying out to the Lord in distress, praying for a miracle? Many of us. How many of us might be feeling anxiety, fear, and loneliness? Many of us. How many of us are clinging to faith in this time of uncertainty? I hope, too, that the answer is many of us.

The last time in which I celebrated communion, I did not know it would be “the last time.” I had accepted the Body of Christ and rejoiced in a beautiful Holy Hour. I remember feeling FULL, feeling HAPPY, feeling THANKFUL. I am holding on to those feelings of peace as I obediently wait for the church doors to be opened to the public again. But, as I wait, I know that the Church is ALIVE. I know that God the Father loves all His children. I know that Jesus Christ has won.

In today’s first reading, the people of Israel were complaining about the manna bread that God had given them to eat in the desert. They had been wandering in the desert for years, only eating of the miraculous manna bread that fell from heaven to sustain their lives. Yes, they were in the hot and lonely desert. Yes, they did not have a variety of food to choose from. But the people of Israel failed to see the good within the situation that they were in; they had much to be thankful for. First, they were freed from slavery in Egypt—they had been enslaved for 400 years and God broke their chains. Second, they had food and water—the manna bread does not naturally grow in the desert; it was bread from heaven that God provided for His children to eat so they’d be nourished and remain strong. And have you heard of this rolling rock that just followed them in the desert and provided water?

As humans sometimes we tend to only focus on the bad and choose to sit with it. We neglect to acknowledge all the good that God has already done in our lives. And at times, even in the midst of living in the good of life, we fail to give proper thanks to God. The people of Israel eventually realized their sin in complaining against God and asked for mercy. God then instructed Moses to make a serpent out of bronze and mount it on a pole; anyone who had previously been ill had only to look at the mounted serpent and would be healed.

How interesting that God chose the image of a serpent to be mounted on the pole. A serpent was the creature that manipulated Adam and Eve to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, causing the fall of mankind. A serpent, representative of sin; that is what the people of Israel looked at to be healed—their sins hung on a wooden pole. We also need to look at our own sin. We need to acknowledge our wrongdoings, acknowledge when we complain against God and ask for mercy. We need to look at Jesus Christ crucified on the cross. We need to see the Son of God sacrificed for our salvation. Look at the cross, walk towards it, lay all that is weighing you down at the foot of the cross, and let Jesus heal you.

Throughout the bad that is present in the world, we must keep faith to that which is good. Our faith tells us that the battle is already won. Jesus Christ died and was nailed to a cross for the forgiveness of our sins. Love has won.

These are very difficult and unprecedented times. The COVID-19 virus has affected all of us. But have faith, the Church remains alive. Pray and invite God into your life for peace. The people of Israel asked for prayer—I encourage you to submit your prayer intentions HERE so that, as one body in Christ, we can pray for you as well.

the-bronze-serpent — Image Credit: Moses showing the bronze serpent, mounted on a pole to the people of Israel [Public Domain].

The Lord Is Close to the Brokenhearted

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted;
and those who are crushed in spirit he saves.
Many are the troubles of the just man,
but out of them all the LORD delivers him.
—Psalm 34:19–20

The weight of these days can feel crushing indeed, the coronavirus pandemic like a cloud that lingers overhead. It is easy to feel a sense of helplessness when dealing with a situation that is so far beyond our control. But in these moments of suffering and uncertainty, we are closer to God than ever. The Lord draws close to us beleaguered and brokenhearted; He looks upon us with a special tenderness.

In Pope Francis’s Urbi et Orbi blessing today, he reflected on the story of the disciples who were fearful during a storm at sea as Jesus was sleeping in the boat (Mark 4:35–41). They called to Jesus, “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” And these words, the Pope said, would have shaken Jesus, “because He, more than anyone, cares about us.”¹

The Pope continued:

The storm exposes our vulnerability and uncovers those false and superfluous certainties around which we have constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities. It shows us how we have allowed to become dull and feeble the very things that nourish, sustain and strengthen our lives and our communities. The tempest lays bare all our prepackaged ideas and forgetfulness of what nourishes our people’s souls; all those attempts that anesthetize us with ways of thinking and acting that supposedly “save” us, but instead prove incapable of putting us in touch with our roots and keeping alive the memory of those who have gone before us. We deprive ourselves of the antibodies we need to confront adversity.¹

Jesus did not abandon His disciples in the storm, and He will not abandon us now. He is with us in the midst of our distress, and He will redeem all our sorrows. God shows mercy to us even in the face of our worst moments, our stubborn refusals to choose the good. When we allow ourselves to become paralyzed by fear instead of trusting in His providence, He is hurt by our distrust, but He does not turn away. Our distrust in God can entrap us in a life that is less than what He has called us to. And yet He meets our stubbornness with undeserved grace, radical forgiveness. He offers us another chance.

Let us wake up each morning and recommit ourselves in trust to God as we weather the fears, uncertainties, and sorrows of the coronavirus pandemic. He is close to all the brokenhearted, and He is with us in the midst of this storm.

—
1. Vatican News, “Pope at Urbi et orbi: Full text of his meditation”