Each day until Divine Mercy Sunday on April 7th, I will email you one thought from that day’s brief reading from Fr. Michael Gaitley’s fine book, 33 Days to Merciful Love. I render full credit for these thoughts, respecting copyright laws, to Fr. Gaitley. Each reading ends with a prayer, which I ask you to pray with me for this intention: the conversion of our parish.
Day Twenty-Five
Mother Teresa said that we were “made for greater things: to love and be loved.” God made us for things “greater” than what we usually think are great: money, health, and friends. These things are good, Mother Teresa would agree, but they are not great. Only God is great, and God’s love (which transforms our human love) is the one thing necessary. We were made for Him.
But Mother Teresa went through fifty years of darkness, not knowing if God loved her or not, or even if He existed. St. Thérèse also underwent a period of darkness, and all of us go through times of relatively light darkness. Fr. Gaitley calls this the “daily darkness:” to be ignored by others, to feel unattractive and incompetent, to feel that our lives are meaningless. Today, Holy Saturday, Christ lies in the grave, a useless corpse.
Mother Teresa, and Thérèse of Lisieux, could not see the purpose in their lives. Like them, we feel like a failure even when people are telling us that we are wonderful. “If I ever become a saint,” Mother Teresa said, “it will be saint of darkness.” She had to believe in God’s purposes for her through her daily darkness, in the fog of unknowing that surrounded her day and night. She had to trust when she could not see one step in front of her. She looked up when the devil tempted her to look down. On this Holy Saturday, look up into God’s face, not down into the tomb. Tonight I will light a fire in the blackness of Geary Boulevard, and carry a paschal candle into the darkness of my church.
Prayer
Come, Holy Spirit, fire of mercy. Help me to live my ordinary life with an extraordinary faith, hope, and love.
Day Twenty-Five
Mother Teresa said that we were “made for greater things: to love and be loved.” God made us for things “greater” than what we usually think are great: money, health, and friends. These things are good, Mother Teresa would agree, but they are not great. Only God is great, and God’s love (which transforms our human love) is the one thing necessary. We were made for Him.
But Mother Teresa went through fifty years of darkness, not knowing if God loved her or not, or even if He existed. St. Thérèse also underwent a period of darkness, and all of us go through times of relatively light darkness. Fr. Gaitley calls this the “daily darkness:” to be ignored by others, to feel unattractive and incompetent, to feel that our lives are meaningless. Today, Holy Saturday, Christ lies in the grave, a useless corpse.
Mother Teresa, and Thérèse of Lisieux, could not see the purpose in their lives. Like them, we feel like a failure even when people are telling us that we are wonderful. “If I ever become a saint,” Mother Teresa said, “it will be saint of darkness.” She had to believe in God’s purposes for her through her daily darkness, in the fog of unknowing that surrounded her day and night. She had to trust when she could not see one step in front of her. She looked up when the devil tempted her to look down. On this Holy Saturday, look up into God’s face, not down into the tomb. Tonight I will light a fire in the blackness of Geary Boulevard, and carry a paschal candle into the darkness of my church.
Prayer
Come, Holy Spirit, fire of mercy. Help me to live my ordinary life with an extraordinary faith, hope, and love.
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