Fifth Sunday of Lent

There are times when I feel a longing for times past and of memories of family and friends. I have shared before of memories of the home where I grew up and of my mom's plans to move from her home. Next week she moves from her home where she has lived for forty-two years into my brother's new home. When I was back in Indianapolis in January and stayed at mom's, being that I am the kind who experiences moments of nostalgia, I made the point that the night before I returned to Portland I would have my “last supper” in the home where I grew up, sharing this last meal with my mom and my brother, Frank. We also gathered the next morning, the day I left to come back to Portland, to celebrate the last home mass. I typically say mass when I am home, so for this mass I composed a prayer I said at the end, thanking God for the home that was shelter and comfort for our family, blessing it one last time.

I ask my mom how she is feeling about moving and she says she tires not to think about it too much. It will be a loss to leave a place that has been home for so many years. Yet, I trust the move to my brother's new home will be okay, and will soon feel like home. He has built a large kitchen, lots of counter space and modern appliances, and Mom likes to cook and bake, so I have a feeling she will enjoy that a lot.

When we visit our past we may feel comfort in the nostalgia of memories, and maybe even gratitude, for what has been. Yet, when we look at the present and the future before us, we may also feel grateful, and hopeful. We have moved on from our past, even our losses.

But often, in our spiritual lives, we have a sense that some things of the past are not resolved and reconciled, experiences that have no closure, and we are uncertain about a better, more hopeful future. We can be stuck in the past, with our hurts, sins, failings, betrayals, losses, and regrets holding us down, keeping us from living in the present with a spiritual freedom, and from moving into the future with hope.

The readings today are about the past and the future. St. Paul speaks of just one thing, “forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead...” Isaiah writes, “Remember not the events of the past...see I am doing something new.” And in the gospel, the woman caught in adultery, and the crowd ready to stone her, both have to contend with the past and what they will do in the future--for the woman, to turn away from sin; for the crowd, to recognize their past sins and whether to reform their lives.

On these Wednesdays of March, we have been gathering for a series of talks about the Sacrament of Reconciliation. One of the things we understand about the Sacrament is that it is meant to help us reconcile our past so that we can experience God’s grace in our lives now and in the future. For many, the inability to find God's peace to heal the past keeps us from living fully our lives with God in the present, and confidence about where God's love is leading us into the future.

Recently, a celebrity, speaking about her past of sexual abuse, said, “It's not that heavy to carry.” So she doesn't carry the hurt and anger and betrayal; nothing would diminish her spirit and keep her from living her life. Though a victim, she somehow made peace with the past and is able to live as fully as she was able in the present, and with confidence about the future.

Sometimes, remembering the past can make us feel hurt all over again, and we don't know how we are going to heal. Yet, God's desire is for our well being and peace. God loves us. God heals us. During this season of Lent, we seek the love and healing of God, moving from the past, moving towards the future, with hope. Even our losses can heal, and we can be optimistic about the path ahead. The words of today's psalm speak of God’s abundant mercy, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.”