Dusty Rose is NOT Pepto-Bismol Pink: Homily for Laetare Sunday

 

2 Chr 36:14-16, 19-23

Ps 137 1-6

Eph 2:4-10

Jn 3:14-21

 

"Laetare Jerusalem:

et conventum facite omnes

qui diligitis eam."

 

"Rejoice, O Jerusalem;

and gather round,

all you who love her."

 

The Fourth Sunday of Lent is traditionally known as Laetare Sunday, with the name deriving from the first word of the entrance antiphon,  Laetare. “Rejoice.”

 

We mark Laetare Sunday visually by replacing the somber purple vestments with dusty rose. Note, dusty rose is absolutely NOT Pepto-Bismol or Barbie’s Dream House pink. There is a significant difference.  The dusty rose visually remind us

of a subtle lightening of mood, transient though it may be, now that the penitential time is more than half over.   That change of color is an important signifier of that brief respite that Jesuit Father Jim Schall described in one of his many essays.

 

"Laetare Sunday is traditionally called a respite.  It makes us begin to feel the nearness of the Passion and the Resurrection, but with a reminder that even amid the Lenten fast and the coming remembrance of the Crucifixion, we are not to forget that Christianity is a religion of joy."  He goes to explain that "Christianity is a religion of joy since it knows this world is not all there is; there is something precious beyond the world."  That precious something is apparent in today's readings and particularly in John's Gospel.

 

Commenting on the first reading, The Jewish Study Bible notes that "one of the hallmarks of the Book of Chronicles is its notion of divine providence and retribution . . . through which virtuous deeds lead to reward, and bad deeds bring punishment and suffering."  The book's uniqueness is its view of Divine compassion, that allows for repentance and forgiveness of sin. That compassion brings an eternal message of hope.  

 

No matter how often the Israelites violated the covenant forgiveness was available. God never forgot the covenant even when his people repeatedly did,

even when they chose to worship false pagan gods. We are blessed because

through  God's mercy we receive forgiveness for our sins in the sacrament of confession, as often as we wish to partake of it.  

 

The responsorial, Psalm 137, is fascinating.  It reflects the notion of retribution for sin found in Chronicles. It illustrates the importance of holding to God, recalling and living within the covenant God made with His people. It is also one of the few instances in all of scripture in which a physician can make an accurate diagnosis. 

 

"If I forget you O Jerusalem,

may my right hand wither,

may my tongue cleave

to the roof of my mouth

if I remember you not."

 

As punishment for forgetting the covenant, the psalmist is calling down upon himself the Ancient Near Eastern version of the old schoolyard oath, "If I am lying may God strike me dead."  He is calling down a specific punishment that even today many find worse than death. Should he sin by forgetting what God had done for his people, the psalmist is asking that he be punished by a stroke on the left side of his brain, the type of stroke that results in paralysis and atrophy of the right hand and arm, along with the garbled speech of expressive aphasia that does, in fact, sound as if the tongue is stuck to the roof of the mouth. It is important to note that God is not threatening this punishment.  The psalmist is calling it down upon himself for the sin of forgetting God and His covenant.

 

St. John Paul II of happy memory took words from Paul's Letter to the Ephesian for the title of his second encyclical Dives in Misericordia (Rich in Mercy), an encyclical in which he explored the mystery of redemption.  We read in section seven:  "mercy is an indispensable dimension of love; it is . . . love's second name, and, at the same time, the specific manner in which love is revealed and effected . . ."

 

We have been saved by grace and mercy.  John tells us as much in the gospel

where he wrote, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life."  This truth never loses its power to stun the believer into silence at the power of the cross while leaving the non-believer perplexed by the scandal of the same cross. 

 

It is critical to recall when contemplating these words that they do not even hint

that our bodies will not die. Rather, these words tell us that the power of death itself has been overthrown.  We will all die.  It cannot be otherwise.

 

Ideally that moment will occur at the natural end of our lives rather than through so-called physician prescribed death, a euphemism for putting down those who are ill. We will all die. But, death itself has lost its power over us and will never regain it. 

 

"Laetare Jerusalem:

et conventum facite omnes

qui diligitis eam."

 

________________________________________________________

At this point in Lent of 2011 I was part of the Australian Tertianship.  We were making the Long Retreat at Sevenhill, South Australia, a 1000 acre winery near Clare, South Australia, that is best described as being in the middle of nowhere. 

 

 

Brother Vincent making his midday meditation. 

We knew where the key was for the church's choir loft.  Fortunately I had the camera with me the first time I went up.  The cross for the veneration liturgy on Good Friday was in place.  Took many many photos of this over a few days.

We had an unusual amount of rain.  I posted this in honor of the anniversary of the release of the movie version of "The Sound of Music" on 2 March 1965, fifty-nine years ago last week.

My familiar lament:  if only I had the equipment then that I have now.  Kangaroos are fast and difficult to get near.

The altar cross.  The stained glass was non-figurative and cast great light.

The altar at around the same time of the day.  The church was oriented directly east thus late afternoon (it was autumn in Australia) was a great time to capture the light. 

 

 

Fr. Jack, SJ, MD