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What Do I Know?

31/3/2026

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, April 5th, 2025:
The Solemnity of Easter Sunday

Acts
10.34a, 37-43

Peter began to speak: “You know the message that spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.

“We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead

“He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the Prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

“You know.… ” So what’s holding you back?

This has been a season of seeking deeper meaning, a time of walking closely with my corporal and spiritual poverty and the reality of the general frailty of the human mind and body. As Catherine Doherty has said, “Lent is a time of going very deeply into ourselves…. What is it that stands between us and God? Between us and our brothers and sisters? Between us and life, the life of the Spirit? Whatever it is, let us relentlessly tear it out, without a moment’s hesitation.” Let us relentlessly tear it out.

My path to divorcing myself from these things that are separating me from God has been one of trust and obedience. I have learned that obedience to my prayer time each morning sets the foundation for firmly trusting in God’s goodness, a trust that frees me to do the other difficult things He is calling me to – things like forgiveness, mercy, self-gift, an open and loving heart, all the things that oppose my desire to self-protect. Self-protection in and of itself perpetuates my belief that I know more than God knows.

Saint Peter walked this same road from time to time, as he found himself stuck in divisions created by man rather than in the love required by God, stuck in the mindset that he knew more than God knew. Yet God’s presence in Peter’s prayer — whether in his waking prayer or his dreams — provided a continual conversion of his heart and mind so that he could fully enter into the open disposition God was calling him to. The truth Peter preaches here comes from an awakening while he was sleeping, a profound dream emblematic of God’s desire for the unity of all peoples. And it convicted Peter of his poverty, and instilled in him a desire to share this message that is so rich in Truth.

The truth is: I am His chosen. I will eat and drink with Him this day. He, the Bread of Life, will be with me intimately as I celebrate with my brothers and sisters all that Saint Peter has confirmed.

He rose from the dead.

What more could He do to prove His sacrificial love and fidelity to me, His created? To affirm His saving omnipotence? To stir within me a desire to reflect and refract the love He poured out for me? To confirm that His knowingness is far beyond what I could ever know? To instill in me the knowledge of His protection if I can open myself to follow in His way?

The answer is: nothing. There is no more. It is finished. He is the One. He is here with me, all around me, within me. He has risen! Alleluia!

Lori MacDonald

2 Comments

Unpacking at His Feet

27/3/2026

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A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Matthew
27.11-54 (shorter)

(For the longer version, see the print edition of Living with Christ.)

Now Jesus stood before the governor; and the governor asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus said, “You say so.” But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he did not answer.

Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many accusations they make against you?” But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.

Now at the festival the governor was accustomed to release a prisoner for the crowd, anyone they wanted. At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Barabbas. So after they had gathered, Pilate said to them, “Whom do you want me to release for you, Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Christ?” For he realized that it was out of jealousy that they had handed him over.

While he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent word to him, “Have nothing to do with that innocent man, for today I have suffered a great deal because of a dream about him.”

Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed.

The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.”

Pilate said to them, “Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Christ?” All of them said, “Let him be crucified!”

Then he asked, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!”

So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Then the people as a whole answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” So he released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

As they went out, they came upon a man from Cyrene named Simon; they compelled this man to carry his Cross. And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull), they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall; but when he tasted it, he would not drink it. And when they had crucified him, they divided his clothes among themselves by casting lots; then they sat down there and kept watch over him. Over his head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” Then two bandits were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left.

Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the Cross.” In the same way the chief priests also, along with the scribes and elders were mocking him, saying, “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the Cross now, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he wants to; for he said, ‘I am God’s Son.’” The bandits who were crucified with him also taunted him in the same way.

From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “This man is calling for Elijah.” 48 At once one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink. But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.”

Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last.

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many.

Now when the centurion and those with him, who were keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were terrified and said, “Truly this man was God’s Son!”

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

I feel a unique sense of excitement, along with a deeper sense of responsibility, during Lent. It truly feels different from other seasons. I am not sure if this stems from the observances during the Lenten season or perhaps the consciousness of an open invitation to learn of the one that first loved me – Jesus. Well, probably the latter because love is always exciting and that is why, even with all the sacrifices that come with it, we can still choose to love.

As I meditate on the 27th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, my mind quickly drifts to the crowd. How they were easily swayed and how they shouted to crucify Him. Then I am reminded about the tendencies to do the same in the present time. Once again, I am compelled to consider my ways, while asking myself questions such as am I crying out as the crowd did? Or am I truly in the Lord’s army?

Am I receiving the opinions of “hustle grind” or the prevailing culture and saying yes to His crucifixion in my heart by allowing events and situations to take Word study, worship and praise time away, or is Father-daughter time still a priority?

Furthermore, I consider Pilate – he perceived that they had handed Jesus over to him out of jealousy, and then his wife sent him words about a disturbing dream she had and advised him to let Jesus be. Pilate knew the right thing but quivered and chose to be politically correct or neutral. As I ponder on this, the question that comes to mind is am I a Pilate? Do I choose to be neutral or politically correct when it is glaring what Jesus teaches or has instructed? Do I downplay the nudging of the Holy Spirit for personal biases? The beauty of Lent for me is not just fasting but a call to self reflect, a call to evolve and be a better soldier of Christ.

The answer to most or perhaps all of these questions has been yes at one point or another in my life, but Jesus reaches out each time with compassion and love, reminding me that He figured all of it in and He paid the greatest sacrifice that will ever be paid. He nailed it all to the cross and finished it so that I can boldly return to His love and gladly call Him Abba!

Lastly, God never leaves us without help in this journey of Lent and, indeed, in the journey of life. Simon of Cyrene was there, present through Jesus’ suffering, close enough to be compelled when Jesus was humanly weak. Simon helped in carrying the cross so that Jesus could complete His assignment of the sacrifice. God will not give us any burden too difficult or beyond our capacity to bear. As the psalmist in the 46th chapter of the Psalms mentioned, God is our very present help in times of trouble (need). However, do I acknowledge the presence of this help (the Holy Spirit) and seek His counsel, or am I trying to figure it out on my own because I believe “that shouldn’t be rocket science”?

These are some of the questions that help me recalibrate, and there is no crowd in that meeting room: just me and my maker. I am unpacking everything and laying it bare, while He is patiently, lovingly, and righteously aligning me to His will. I invite you to go on the journey of Lent, as the Lord truly yearns to give you a new heart.

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.” —Ezekiel 36:26-27

Celia Omionawele

2 Comments

Choosing the Way of Humble Love

26/3/2026

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A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Philippians
2.6-11

Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross.

Therefore God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

When I first read this passage from Philippians, that Jesus “did not use His equality with God for His own advantage, but emptied Himself and became humble and obedient,” I didn’t really know what to think about it or how it applied to my life.

As a wife, a mother, and a working woman, I often feel empty already. My days are full, my energy stretched between meetings, family schedules, and the quiet responsibilities no one else sees. The idea of “emptying myself” sounded less like holiness and more like exhaustion. But over time, I’ve come to see it differently.

What stands out to me most is that Jesus had every reason to hold onto His power. But He didn’t. He didn’t demand attention or make people serve Him. He chose to be humble because He loved us.

When I think about my own life, I see how I often do the opposite. I want to be right when I argue with my husband. I want someone to notice how hard I worked all day. I get frustrated when my plans get messed up. Deep down, I want to feel seen and appreciated. But most days, following Jesus doesn’t look big or dramatic. It looks simple. It looks like listening to my child, even when I’m tired. It looks like saying sorry first, even when I don’t feel like it. It looks like choosing peace instead of trying to win.

At work, it means asking myself hard questions. Am I trying to help others, or just trying to look good? Am I okay letting someone else get the credit? Is my value based on how well I perform, or on who I am as God’s child?

There is quiet surrender in these moments. A letting go of control, of ego, of the need to prove myself. But I’ve noticed something beautiful: When I loosen my grip, peace follows.
When I choose humility, relationships deepen. When I trust God instead of insisting on my way, my heart feels lighter.

The passage doesn’t end in sadness or shame. It ends in glory. After Jesus humbled Himself, God lifted Him up.

In my life, that lifting up doesn’t look big or dramatic. It looks like the quiet happiness of a peaceful home. It feels like calm confidence when I know I did the right thing. It’s the stronger love that grows when I choose humility instead of pride.

Empty my heart of anything that keeps me from loving well,
and fill it instead with Your peace.
May my small, daily surrenders bring You glory.
Amen.

Shelly Fillmore

3 Comments

Dark Night of the Soul

25/3/2026

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A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Psalm 22

R. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

All who see me mock at me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads; “Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver; let him rescue the one in whom he delights!”

R. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

For dogs are all around me; a company of evildoers encircles me. My hands and feet have shrivelled; I can count all my bones.

R. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

They divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots. But you, O Lord, do not be far away! O my help, come quickly to my aid!

R. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you: You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him; stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!

R. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Saint Mother Teresa wrote in profound ways about her experience with what she called the “dark night of the soul” – a period of time where she felt completely abandoned by God. Her every waking hour was committed to God, through her prayer time and through serving Him in the poorest and weakest among us. Yet for many years, this work bore no personal fruit for her. She struggled with fame and feared she was drawing people to herself rather than Jesus, but the more she pulled away from the cameras, the more they were drawn to her. When she lived, people thought of her as someone very close to God, but she felt very far from Him. I imagine it must have been something of a comfort to know that Jesus felt the same way. Both Saint Matthew and Saint Mark record Jesus as crying out the refrain of Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

There are theological disputes about the meaning of this – some scholars argue that Jesus was citing Psalm 22 as a reference to its end, which closes in a faithful praise of God. But I tend to agree with those scholars who believe it was sincerely said, and reflected the emotions of Jesus as He experienced the agony of the Cross. I find that very reassuring, though heartbreaking, because if Jesus was without sin and He felt forsaken, then there is no sin in my own experiences of feeling unseen by God.

These feelings are real, and like both Jesus and Saint Mother Teresa, we should have no fear in expressing them – and yet I so often do. I’ve struggled with infertility for many years now, and it has often left me feeling like God is far away or like He isn’t hearing my prayers. Surely if He heard them, He would heal me? Or at least reassure me? Instead, it feels sometimes like my prayers fall on deaf ears. And then those feelings come with a double dose of shame – shame that I can’t trust in God’s goodness, and shame rooted in a fear that my prayers are ignored because God thinks less of me than of others whose prayers get answered.

The irony is that the only times I’ve ever been able to get through these dark nights is by expressing my feelings, the thing I’m so scared to do, and then (like Saint Mother Teresa) continuing to trust God as an action, even when the feelings aren’t there. I know this brings me healing and peace, but that doesn’t make it any easier to be brave enough to voice my fears and to practise faith – trusting God in my heart even when my mind is scrambled and lost.

The truth is that I am not forsaken. God is with us in the easy times and the hard, whether we feel it or not, whether His voice is loud or whisper-quiet. Pain can get so loud that it drowns Him out for us, but that doesn’t mean we’ve been forsaken. It simply means we need to tell God how we feel, trusting He’s big enough to have compassion when we are angry with Him.

Some dark nights get very long, but there will always be a dawn.

Jenna Young

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What Do I Know?

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, April 5th, 2025:The Solemnity of Easter Sunday

Unpacking at His Feet

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Choosing the Way of Humble Love

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Dark Night of the Soul

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Archives

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, April 5th, 2025:
The Solemnity of Easter Sunday

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, March 29th, 2026:
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord